“So you’re just covertly living in the penthouse, watching over her for fun then?” She gives me a wry look. “You can’t fool me, Romeo. I know beneath that murderous exterior, you’re secretly a teddy bear inside.”
“You’ve got me all figured out,” I answer dryly. “Don’t tell the others. I wouldn’t want to ruin my reputation as the world’s biggest asshole.”
“You know that’s not what we think of you. World’s biggest smart-ass is a more accurate description. Every family needs one.”
“Good to know I serve a purpose.”
She relaxes against the lounge, circling back to the reason she’s here. “When are you going to tell her?”
“She says she doesn’t want to know. That’s probably for the best.”
Abella watches me as I pull the blunt from my pocket, desperately itching to smoke it. I don’t like this fucking feeling in my chest.
“Well, I can’t hide this from her,” she says. “I’ll tell her I know who Eros is, and whether she wants your identity or not is up to her.”
“I figured.”
“Does this thing have an expiration date?” she asks.
“That’s what we agreed on.”
“Agreements can change—just ask your brother. But don’t wait until she’s walking down the aisle to figure it out.”
“He’s nothing if not dramatic.”
She laughs, but her amusement fades quickly.
“Are you really going to let her marry Riccardo?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“Sounds exactly like what a man in love might say,” she chirps.
“Maybe you should stage an intervention. Clearly, I’m spiraling.”
“Joke all you want, but I know you’re doodling hearts around her name in your head.”
“Are you charging me by the hour for this psychoanalysis, or is it complimentary?”
“I’ll let you have this one for free.” Abella smirks. “But only because you’ve always protected her, even when she didn’t know it.”
With that cryptic thought, she checks the time on her phone and gets up to leave.
“Hang on a second.” I scrape a hand over the back of my neck. “I need your help with something.”
“Okay. What is it?”
“It’s Gabi.” I blow out a breath. “She’s having some problems at school.”
26
GABRIELA
I had hopedthat by keeping my head down, things would eventually blow over. But this week has proven the opposite to be true.
We’re now in the muslin development portion of the semester, and it seems I’m being sabotaged at every turn.
On Monday, I was horrified to find that some of the pattern pieces I’d hung on the wall had been swapped. I didn’t realize it until the waist seam refused to line up and the entire muslin draped wrong. I spent the rest of that night trying to correct it, only to discover someone also shifted a dart point and erased my balance marks.
