You know, reasonable excuses.
Perhaps Derik had insulted his mother once in a reckless argument, thinking no one would remember or care. Or maybe Simon had threatened him with a knife. I didn’t care. Anything was better than the truth, which was that Max was possessive to a fault.
Finally, I nodded, hoping that told Daisy enough.
“I’d expect that from mobsters. I heard they had to deal with Mason too. Something about him working with Valentina?”
Max had always been intense, his emotions running deeper than most. It was one of my favorite things about him, regrettably.
The room seemed to blur around me as I thought about him.
“Well,” Daisy said, trying to lighten the mood, “let’s not dwell on that tonight. There are too many people to greet. Momma invited everyone, including your husband’s family, unfortunately. You know, I’ve had just about enough of them. Those Romanos, always ruining my seating arrangements and my neat decorations?—”
“I’m a Romano. Careful.”
She looked at me. “Oh, I suppose you are.”
As we mingled, I tried to focus on the conversations, polite exchanges, and laughter, but my mind kept drifting back to Max. I glanced down at my watch, realizing it had been almost an hour since the party started. Anxiety bubbled up inside of me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong.
I took another sip of my martini to calm my nerves. The party continued all around me, but I felt increasingly disconnected, as if I were watching it from a distance.
As I stepped through the patio doors, my grandmother, Esme, turned to face me. “Rosalie, dear,” she said warmly, enveloping me in a hug. “I was just telling your mother how radiant you look tonight.”
I managed a smile, trying to hide the worry I felt deep down. “Thank you, Grandma.”
She pulled back, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied me. “There’s something different about you. You’re glowing.”
I laughed softly, brushing off her observation. “It’s just the excitement of the party, I suppose.”
Esme raised an eyebrow, not easily convinced. “No, it’s something more than that.” She tilted her head, her gaze piercing. “Are you pregnant?”
I felt the color drain from my face, the question catching me completely off-guard. “What? No, of course not,” I stammered, trying to regain my composure. “Why would you think that?”
Esme’s expression softened, but she didn’t back down. “It’s just a feeling I have. A grandmother’s intuition, if you will.”
I shook my head, still reeling. I couldn’t be. I was still on birth control no matter how many times Max had demanded I get off it.
“I promise you, Grandma, I’m not pregnant.”
Esme gave me one last lingering look before wandering off to greet other guests.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. This evening was proving to be more complicated than I anticipated.
Daisy returned to my side, having noticed Grandma. “What did Esme want?” she asked, her curiosity piqued. “Did she say anything about Angela’s dress? I told Esme she’d wear something like that.”
I shook my head. “No, but she thinks I’m pregnant.”
Daisy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, let’s hope not. I wonder if your babies will come out with red horns and tails.”
“Thanks, Daisy. I needed that.”
Just then, the door opened. It was Vincenzo. He spotted me and made his way over, his expression serious.
“Vincenzo,” I greeted him, my voice betraying my concern. “Have you seen Max?”
He paused, giving me a once-over, his eyes softening. He looked a lot like Max, with his dark hair and long legs. They even had the same crow’s feet in the corners of their eyes.
“Sorry, gorgeous, no Max in sight. But don’t worry your pretty little head. You know him—he’s probably somewhere putting out a fire or two. He’ll show up,” he said, giving my shoulder a squeeze.
