“You’re hiding something. Spill it.Now.”
“I’m not!”
“Are you really going to sit here and lie to me? Have you forgotten I know you? Sometimes better than you know yourself,” she scoffs.
I roll my eyes. “I’m just happy you’re home.”
“You’re such a liar.” As she sips her champagne, she studies me. For several seconds, I think she’s going to give up, then she gasps loudly, her manicured hand flying to her crimson lips. “You met someone!”
On instinct, I shake my head. “No! I?—”
“Donotlie to me, Vincenza Mae Paladino.”
The look in Raina’s eye—equal parts pissed off and curious—reminds me she always gets her way. Sighing dramatically, I twist in my seat so that I’m facing her.
“Fine, but this needs to be taken to the grave.”
Holding up two fingers, she says, “Scout’s honor.”
“I’m serious, Raina. This could ruin me. If anyone finds out?—”
“When have Ieverspilled your secrets?”
“Mason,” I snap, glaring at her.
I’m not actually angry, but she did tell him I liked him when we were teenagers, after promising she wouldn’t. Still, that’s been the only “secret” she’s ever repeated, and if I’m being honest, my feelings for Mason were so obvious, everyone knew about them without her meddling.
She swishes her hand in front of her while she takes another sip of champagne. “Ugh, please. Mason was a secret that needed to be spilled. You crushed on him foryearsbefore I finally told him. I thought it’d be a nudge in the right direction.”
“Okay, well, what I’m about to tell you can never leave this car.Ever.”
“Okay, okay, I get it!” Her eyes glance at the partition that’s rolled up. “You sure driving Miss Daisy up there won’t be able to hear though?”
“No, Father made sure the backs of the town cars were soundproof.” I never asked why, but I can imagine.
My heart begins to hammer in my chest as I work up the courage to tell her. I’m not sure why it feels different than when I told Cecilia, but it does. Raina would never judge me or rat me out, but I still hesitate.
“Wow, Vins. I feel like you’re about to tell me you’re dating a mafia don, or something equally as dramatic.”
“Sly Lucchetti,” I croak, clearing my throat. Sitting up straighter in my seat, I say it again. “I’m seeing Sly Lucchetti.”
“Lucchetti,” she repeats skeptically. “As in, theonefamilyyour family absolutely despises?”
“The one and the same.”
Her loud cackle echoes through the car. “Oh, babes. You’re so screwed if anyone finds out. How did this evenhappen? Tell me every little detail, even the dirty ones.”
“That's the thing!” I toss my hands into the air. “I don’t even know how I let it happen! I saw him for the first time since we were teenagers, at the masquerade ball my mother made me attend back in July. After that,we kept running into each other. One of the times, quite literally.”
“What does that mean?”
“He was coming out from somewhere and I was leaving a coffee shop. Neither of us were paying attention and ran right into each other. My coffee spilled down the front of me, and he offered to let me borrow one of his shirts…”
“You’ve been to his apartment?”
Biting my lip, I look down into my lap and smile. “A couple of times now.”
“Damn. Then what?”
