Page 157 of Mario
But if I don't make it right, the wound will remain.
It will grow.
We both know what happens then.
I take a deep breath.
"It is true that I didn't think you'd be interested in her," I admit. "Not for more than a few nights, and that might have been detrimental to the work."
Diego studies me.
"But I was not only thinking about the company."
His eyebrows lift, the corners of his mouth tilt up, and I know whatever it was has passed.
"Ah," he says.
I let out a very creative insult in Italian.
He laughs.
"That is anatomically impossible, brother, but why don't you try it with the pretty lawyer and get back to me?"
"Get the hell out of my office."
"Do you not like it when I call her pretty?" he says, acting innocent. "I would hate to think you were capable of something so petty as jealousy. That’s only for us mere mortals.”
"I'm not."
"No. Of course not."
"And even if I were," I say, my tone turning dry, "I certainly would not be jealous of you."
"Because, for the record," he says, "I do think she's very pretty. Beautiful, in fact."
I narrow my eyes.
He grins and starts for the door. "And now I know saying so annoys you."
"Your face annoys me."
He just laughs.
"Fine. Not another word about her." He opens the door. "But you can't stop me from thinking it."
He closes the door on my snarl.
Chapter Seventeen
Victoria
By Friday afternoon, I am going a little mad.
Quietly.
The kind of madness that lets me sit at a desk, answer emails, revise access recommendations, and calmly explain to a senior manager why “I’ve always had that permission” is not a business justification, while some entirely separate part of my brain is lying on my bedroom floor in front of an open white box.
Deep blue lace.
