“Why not? An entire night with the attention all on you.” Carmen was a true born and bred socialite who adored the chance to take center stage. I wasn’t as keen on the idea.
“Exactly. An entire night of everyone waiting for me to slip up,” I told her. Luc had been trying to convince me to have a party, but it seemed a brash move for someone with my history. Wouldn’t it be better for me to ease into it with an event that was lower key?
“Luc wouldn’t invite anyone that was waiting for you to fall on your face. You’d be with friends.”
“His. Not mine,” I reminded her. My friendship circle was considerably smaller and part of it was miles away.
“They won’t be yours if you hide away for the rest of your life. Go and show them that you’re back and that you’re here to stay. You and that baby are a permanent part of the family.”
“Actually, speaking of babies, I have a question for you. Maternity clothes. I don’t think my jeans and baggy sweatshirts are going to cut it here.”
“I’ll send you a list of names.” Carmen grinned. A list of names. No longer a department store with generic brands, because that wasn’t enough. I’d be given the individual designers to peruse through and figure out what I liked best.
“Thanks.” I hesitated for a moment. “What about other stuff?”
“Such as?”
“Catering? Event planning?” I was trying my best not to say much, but the look on Carmen’s face said that she had cottoned on to why I was suddenly curious to bolster the staff repertoire.
“You’re better off asking someone closer to home,” she told me. “Every family has different tastes.”
“I know. I’ve had a list from Luc and Dante.”
“There’s got to be someone you can ask. What about Vittoria?”
“I’m playing with enough fire, Carmen. I’m not willing to throw myself straight into hell just yet.”
“No, you just intend to marry Lucifer and rule over it instead,” she laughed.
“I’m glad you find all of this amusing. I hope you’ll have plenty of jokes scattered in my eulogy.”
“Don’t joke about that, Mia,” Carmen said, sobering up. “I’d rather not contemplate that reality.”
Neither would I, but occasionally it crept up on me. We hadn’t planned on asking Dante about being a Godfather until our baby boy had arrived, but there was a distinct possibility that we may not make it to a christening. At least this way, Dante knew he had a vital role in case our plans failed spectacularly.
“There is someone else you could ask,” Carmen said, tapping her chin, and I waited for her to divulge her latest thought.
∞∞∞
“Hi,” I greeted the receptionist as brightly as possible. “Mia Griffin. I’m here to visit Maria Evans.” I’d called ahead to check it was okay to visit and filled out the visitation forms.
I let a carer guide me through the hallways until we entered a brightly lit day room where various occupants sat enjoying music and doing therapeutic activities. The home was nothing like the one I’d worked at. No expense had been spared for the residents here. Maria was easy to pick out from the crowd, with her bright red hair, sitting by the window with a book in her hands.
“Maria,” the carer called her name as we came to a stop by her chair. “You have a visitor.”
When Maria looked up at me her face gave nothing away. “Thank you, Natalie.” The carer offered us both a kind smile before leaving, and Maria turned her attention on me. “If you’ve come for another fight, I’m not interested.”
“That’s not why I came.”
“So, why are you here? A message from Luc?” she asked. I couldn’t stop the blood that rushed to my cheeks as I sat down in the chair opposite her. “Oh, he doesn’t know you’re here. This should be interesting.”
“He’s at work at the moment,” I informed her.
“And you told him you planned to visit me?”
“He won’t care.”
“I think we both know that’s not quite true. My son can hold a grudge and he’ll expect you to hold it with him.”
