Page 83 of Marry Me Not
“Can I ask what’s going on?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just raise the limits, would you?”
“Well,” he said slowly, “you’re the one who told me to keep them at two hundred and fifty thousand. In fact, I have it written in my notes. You know, I keep detailed notes.” He cleared his throat. “You said that if you ever asked me to raise your limit, I should remind you that someone needs to manage the costs, and in this case, that someone is me.”
“I know what I fucking said. But that was before I got myself an expensive wife.”
Silence. Then Jerry chuckled knowingly.
“Ah. Wives. Yes, they’re known to be expensive, depreciating assets.”
I went very still. “Jerry. You ever call my wife a depreciating asset again, and you’ll be the one getting written off. Permanently. You understand?”
“Oh—geez. I’m sorry, Cosimo. I didn’t mean—I didn’t think you’d take it like that.”
“Raise the fucking limits,” I barked into the phone and hung up.
CHAPTER 28
FABIANA
Tink.Tink. Tink.
I was convinced that tinkling sound would haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life.
The sea of rhinestones on the floor around me just kept growing. My reflection stared back at me from the mirrors lining the walls of the accessible bathroom I’d locked myself in. The mirrors confirmed that with so many of the rhinestones gone, I didn’t look decent from any angle.
My earlier panic had dulled into a resigned kind of despair.
Why didn’t I just listen to Cosimo when he warned me about Anthony? I’d ignored him, so sure he was just being condescending and dismissive of a misunderstood artist.
But he’d judged Anthony exactly right. Beautiful or not, what was the point of a dress if it didn’t last through the night?
I let out a low sigh. Music and the sound of people talking filtered through the door at an escalating volume. I couldn’tstay here forever. Eventually, someone would need to use the bathroom, and really, there was no point in delaying the inevitable.
I had to get back out there. Hopefully, I’d be able to slip away without people looking at me too closely. Cosimo’s jacket covered most of me, which was a relief. I just wanted to get home, crawl into bed, and not poke my head out for a week or two.
I dug inside my purse for my phone. I’d text Cosimo and let him know I was leaving. He was probably furious with me. I thought he might come find me by now, but it had been at least fifteen minutes since I ran from him, and he hadn’t even texted.
Hurt flickered inside my chest.
No. I didn’t get to feel sorry for myself. This was all my fault.
I began to type that I was going to take a taxi home.
KNOCK KNOCK.
Shit. I grabbed Cosimo’s jacket from where I’d left it on the counter and pressed it against my front. “Just one moment!”
“It’s me.”
Cosimo.I rushed to the door to let him in. “I was just about to text you. I—” As he stepped inside, my eyes widened on the garment bag slung over his arm. “What’s that?”
He locked the door behind him, an air of annoyance wafting off him. “Your new dress. Put it on so we can have a drink and forget this ever happened.”
“What?” I asked, stunned. “Where did you get that?”
“Lost and found.”
