The words cloud in the air like smoke from Bianca's culinary disaster.
“That wasn’t—“ I start, then stop.
Because maybe it is true.
Maybe I have spent my entire adult life accepting whatever treatment people were willing to give me, grateful for any scraps of affection or respect.
"Mia," Jules says softly, "when's the last time you asked for what you actually wanted instead of just being grateful for what someone else decided you deserved?"
I stare at my pizza, thinking about every job I've taken.
Every relationship I've settled for.
Every time I've made myself smaller to fit into someone else's life.
"You're scared," Bianca continues."You're scared that if you ask for more, you'll lose what little you have.But honey, what you have right now is a man who's clearly falling for you but thinks he has to protect you from himself."
"And instead of showing him that you're strong enough to make your own choices," Jules adds, "you're planning to disappear and let him think he was right to keep his distance."
"It's not that simple?—"
"It is that simple."Bianca stands up, pacing to her easel where a half-finished painting captures the Monaco harbor in brilliant blues and golds."You like him.You like him a lot.And he likes you.Everything else is just fear talking."
"I never said I-I liked him."
Both my sisters give me identical looks of pitying exasperation.
"Mia," Jules says patiently, "you've been glowing like a woman in love since the day you started working for him.And before you say it's just good sex, let me remind you that you've never glowed after any of Ricardo's efforts."
"Can we not discuss my sex life over pizza?"
"We can discuss whatever we want over pizza," Bianca declares.“Now the only question is what are you going to do about it?"
I look at both of them—Jules with her practical wisdom and protective instincts, Bianca with her artistic soul and fierce loyalty—and realize they're right.
I have been running.
When you get to my age, sometimes you figure you should stop asking for the things you asked for in your twenties.You figure you should accept whatever comes your way.
And honestly?That’s been me.Accepting crumbs instead of asking for the whole meal.
ButGod, the whole meal tastes good.And now that this thing with Roarke has given me a bite of what better could be, I know—deep in my soul...that I can never have crumbs again.
"I'm going to negotiate," I hear myself say.
"Negotiate what?"Jules asks.
"My contract terms."I reach for my phone, scrolling to Claire's contact."If Roarke thinks this is just about professional boundaries, maybe it's time to make it about something else entirely."
As I start typing, both my sisters grin.
"That's our girl," Bianca says."About time you remembered you're a catch, not a consolation prize."
For the first time in months—Hell, years—I feel like I might actually deserve something good.
Time to find out if Roarke West agrees.
11
