Miss you. I’ve got a date tonight with a hottie who’s here from Spain, but he said his friend would be tagging along, too. Think I’ll end up with a menage situation? When in Paris?
Isn’t the expression ‘When in Rome?’
Close enough.
A snort of laughter bubbles through me as my fingers fly over the on-screen keyboard.
Turn on your location, okay?
Yes, mom. Don’t worry, I’ll be under the protection of Javierand Felipe.
Who you literally just met.
Don’t be such a buzzkill.
“Really, Sis?” Luciano elbows me in the arm softly. “Texting during brunch? You’re lucky Leighton is distracted.”
“You’re lucky Father hasn’t put you in an early grave for disrespecting our mother by calling her by her first name,” I quip, typing out one last message to Raina.
Gotta go, Luciano’s giving me grief. Love you. Be safe. Hope you get two dicks tonight.
Tell Luciano there’s still room for one more if he wants to hop on a flight really quick. Love you!
Inwardly, I shudder. Raina has been goading me foryearsabout how attractive she thinks my brother is.
Five years older than us, he always embodied that ‘older, forbidden man’ vibe to her, and for some reason, it’s kept her interested. Luciano has never so much as batted an eye in her direction.
Stowing my phone back in my clutch, I look up in time to see several of the waitstaff step onto the patio with our plates in hand. The scent immediately fills the open air, and my mouth waters, realizing I’m much hungrier than I thought.
As like every Sunday, there’s comfortable small talkwhile we eat, and I do my best to dodge my mother’s incessant questions about whether I’ve met anyone, the next event I’d be available to attend, or anything of the sort.
I’m grateful to Luciano for helping steer the conversation away from me by engaging our mother in any topic of meaningless conversation he can think of.
When my father’s voice booms from across the table suddenly, I startle. “How’re things at the firm, Luciano? I heard Gamble took the Hopper case?”
Luciano is a very prominent divorce lawyer in Manhattan. Funny that a drug connoisseur's son would become a lawyer, isn’t it? He made quite the name for himself when he went into business with Simon Gamble, the top divorce lawyer in all of New York, and attached his name to the building.
The Hopper divorce has been the talk of the town for the last three weeks—one of the biggest cheating scandals to shake the Upper East Side in years. Mr. Hopper—whose name escapes me—came home early from a business trip to find his wife in bed with three of his colleagues.
Now, Mr. Hopper wants to make sure his wife is left without a dime to her name. Makes sense he’d have Gamble on retainer.
“Gamble won’t stop gloating to anyone who will listen about how much of a slam dunk the case will be.”
“Well, it’s not like Liliana had a simple indiscretion. Her husband found her in bed withthreemen.” My mother sounds horrified, and without her realizing it,she’s clutching an invisible string of pearls as she brushes her fingers against her collarbone.
“I hope the man utterly destroys her,” Father muses. “Both financially, and her reputation. Hopper is a good man.”
Is he, though? Not from what I’ve heard.
“Mmhmm,” Luciano murmurs, clearly trying to dismiss the conversation. “Attorney-client privilege—I can’t say much.”
“Well, any big case at the firm reflects positively on you. Excellent job, my boy,” my father praises.
The scowl on Joseph's face deepens.
I’m grateful when we all finish our meals, ready to leave and get some distance. Even though we’re outside, the air feels stifling.
“Aww, my sweet girl. Call me this week? We’ll do lunch,” my mother coos, pulling me in for a tight hug and a kiss on each cheek.
