Page 23 of Twisted Temptation

"Charles Harrington. I manage Mr. Di Zaro's household and personal affairs." His eyes travel from my hair to my bare feet and back up. "The others will be here soon."

“Others?”

He sets a leather folio on the dining table and unclips a pen from his breast pocket. "Mr. Di Zaro has requested a complete wardrobe. Day wear, evening wear, items for formal events, others for casual. Shoes, accessories, outerwear. I’ve taken the liberty of passing on certain necessities to your personal shopper, and she will have all the items sent over this afternoon. So, it’s just your seamstress who will be joining us this morning."

"A complete wardrobe?" I put down my toast and wipe the crumbs from my fingers on my yoga pants. “For me?”

"Unless there's another future Mrs. Di Zaro behind the sofa, yes, you."

I really, really wish there was another Mrs. Di Zaro hiding behind the sofa.

"I don't need a designer wardrobe,” I say. “I'm a jeans and boots girl."

"And it’s charming, I’m sure." His face is so straight I can't tell if he's mocking me. “But Mr. Di Zaro has certain expectations.”

“Is that right? Well…” I pick up my toast and take a savage bite out of it. “If Mr. Di Zaro wants to waste his money on clothes I’ll never wear, then he can go right ahead.”

“Of course.” He smiles despite the fact that I’m talking with my mouth full, which I get the feeling would horrify him. “But first, we need to organize the dress.”

“The dress?” I ask.

“Yes, your bridal gown.”

I stop chewing to stare at him.

“For the wedding. You and Mr. Di Zaro. Getting married. Why are you looking at me like I’m speaking a different language?”

I swallow the toast despite my throat suddenly becoming dry.

“When is the wedding?”

“Tonight, of course.”

I cough. “Tonight?”

I drop my toast onto the plate.

“He can’t be serious,” I whisper with disbelief.

"I assure you, Mr. Di Zaro is many things. But unserious is not among them."

I let out a breath as my brain scrambles to make sense of what is about to happen.

Maybe Charles got it wrong.

“Are you sure he meant tonight?"

Charles looks miffed that I would even suggest he might’ve gotten it wrong. “As the sky is blue, Miss Meadows.”

“But how is that even possible?”

“With me, Miss Meadows. I make that possible.”

I turn toward the kitchen counter. “Oh God, how is this my life? It’s too quick. And what about my father⁠—”

“Miss Meadows⁠—”

“I don’t even know where he is⁠—"