The doorbell rings, and I grimace. Mia has a key from when she lived here, but she always uses the bell—claims it’s her way of respecting boundaries, of reminding me this space is mine not hers.
I open the door. “Baby, you?—”
Fuck me!
Not Mia.
Diana.
She’s in a Hugo Boss suit. Her lipstick is a touch too red, her eyes calculating. I don’t move to invite her in.
“Go away,” I say, and am about to shut the door when she puts her hand on it.
“Please, Aiden. Just a few minutes.”
I let her in. Not because I owe her anything, but because I’d rather not have this conversation on my front step for the neighbors to chew on.AndI am curious.
She stands in the living room, looking around like she’s scanning the place. Probably buying time. I don’t ask her to take a seat. She’s not going to be here long enough.
“Well?” I snap.
“I…need your help.”
I let out a short, humorless laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”
She shakes her head slowly. I see fear in her eyes. I’ve never seen that before.
“It’s only been a couple of months, you can’t have already fucked it up,” I deadpan, because why not?
She looks away, jaw tight like she’s holding it together.
“I thought it would take at least six months, but Mia was sure you’d be up shit creek without a paddle in less than three.” I tilt my head, more entertained than I should be.
“The Farmington deal fell through.” Her lips quiver.
I arch an eyebrow, genuinely surprised that she fucked it up. “All you had to do was get them to sign the damn paperwork, Diana. I did the heavy lifting on that.”
Her eyes darken, her lips press into a tight line.
“And you probably couldn’t bring the Molinari people to the finish line.”
She doesn’t say anything, but her silence speaks volumes.
“Look…I…cleared it with the board to bring you back on as a consultant, and?—"
“I’m not interested,” I cut her off flatly.
“Come on, Aiden. The Molinari Foundation…they said they’ll sign if you’re officially working on the deal.”
“Hard pass.”
She blinks. That wasn’t the script she had prepared. “You can’t tell me you’re not itching to get back in the game.”
“I can.” I tilt my head, not even bothering to hide my glee. I wish I could record this because I know Mia would enjoy it very much.
“Aiden, the board?—”
“Isn’t my problem anymore,” I interrupt.
