Despite her distress, I smile at her analogy to the Getaway pinball game we played for hours as kids.
I run my palms down her arms to hold her hands. “What if you let me take control on one side, and you take the other? We always got the highest scores when we played the game together.”
A beautiful smile softens her features, and I know she’s remembering how much fun we had playing that old machine.
“What I’m saying, Luce, is that you don’t have to do this alone. You can lean on me. It’s probably going to be difficult finding the right balance with us getting married, but I’m still here. I’m your friend first and foremost. You can share things with me.”
“Thank you. I think I needed to hear that.” She gives my hands a light squeeze while the crease between her brows smooths. “I know this is hard, for all of us. Gio looks miserable most of the time. While you seem angry.” She draws in another deep breath, her shoulders dropping on the release. “And I’m just lost.”
There’s no denying her summary of the situation. Anger is exactly how I’d describe the force flowing through my veins having to watch from the sidelines.
“Gio is taking his break from Tori hard. For the first time, he seemed to really be falling for someone, but now it’s over.” A heavy sigh is forced from my lungs. “And I get angry at the paparazzi shoving cameras in your face and demanding you two kiss.” My confession is met with a further softening of her expression and the faintest hint of a smile.
“Promise me that through all this mess, you won’t stop being my friend.”
“I promise, Lucia. Nothing could ever ruin that.” Dropping her hands, I give her a quick hug. “Now, do you want a drink?” I walk away before I’m tempted to do more than hug her. Our friendship is changing, and until I learn how to deal with that, it’s best I minimize the physical contact between us.
“Have you spoken to your father this visit?” I ask, grasping at a topic change like I’m drowning at sea and it’s all that will keep me afloat.
“Sì, but I wish I hadn’t.”
Hmm, so that’s the reason for her melancholy mood.
“Though he doesn’t know I’m still here in the city,” she mutters as she wanders over to the window that overlooks the river.
“Well, you’re always welcome to hide out with me.”
The smile she throws me over her shoulder is a little sheepish this time. “I was hoping you’d say that. My bag is in the rental car downstairs.” She turns back my way. “Every time I speak to my parents, all they want to know is if I’ve set a date. It’s only going to get harder to keep up the lie if I don’t give them something soon.” She scrunches up her nose. It’s an adorable habit she’s had since she was a teen. “I was hoping we could discuss a timeline while I was here.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing. I’ll message Gio now to ask him to drop in when he finishes at the office.”
“He’s still working?”
“That’s all he does lately. I think he’ll be happy to have a date sorted too.”
Lucia picks up the glass of wine I’ve poured her, and walks over to sit on the sofa, her bare feet tucked underneath her.
“The last time we shared a drink like this was in Capri.”
She stares into empty space. “That seems like a lifetime ago.”
“A lot has happened since then.”
I drop onto the cushions beside her, lounging back with my legs stretched out in front of me and my eyes closed. It’s been a long day, and moments of relaxation like this are a rarity.
She shifts beside me, and the cushion sinks lower. “I asked Papa about the marriage contract,” she muses.
“What did he say?” I tilt my head to the side and peel my eyes open. Her elbow rests on the back of the sofa, her head lying in her hand. She’s so close her perfume wafts around me in a floral cloud and the tips of her auburn waves tickle my arm. My fingers flex with the temptation to twist a curl around them.
What the hell am I thinking?This is Lucia, not a date. I sit up straighter and take a gulp of wine.
Only, Lucia’s eyes follow my movements. “Your father asked him for a loan about twenty years ago when the Barbieri Corporation was suffering some cash-flow problems. Papa decided to use the marriage contract as leverage in case your father didn’t pay him back.” She sighs. “My father has never passed up an opportunity to take advantage of another person’s misfortune. He even sounded proud of the deal when he told me.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, knowing how much her father’s callous actions hurt her. “Did the loan get paid off?”
“Sì, but the marriage contract remained. It wasn’t tied to the original loan. Papa must have forgotten about it, because I’m sure if he had remembered, we would have been in this position a lot sooner.”
“What made him remember now?”
