Mara clocks it and her eyes narrow. "What's going on, guys?"
"Nothing," I say too fast. "I was just... looking for him. Found him." I force a weird smile.
Mara's brows stay knotted as she glances at him and then at me, but she lets it go with a high-pitchedhmmand smiles. "Are you having fun, babe? You look gorgeous in that yellow. I knew it."
Ben turns back to me for a beat, his eyes running over melike an old reflex. Then he drags a hand over his jaw and walks toward the window.
When I notice Mara waiting for an answer, I nod a little too hard. "Oh yeah. So much. You're a stunner, by the way."
Mara beams, spinning so her chiffon skirt flares like champagne fizz. She points proudly to her white sneakers with silver bows. "Had to change so I can dance."
She turns to Ben but speaks to me. "Would you mind giving me a minute with my brother?"
There's no mistaking the shift in tone—sweet but non-negotiable, so I nod and walk out.
Well, half-out because the moment the door clicks behind me, my traitor of a body stays rooted there.
I dart my eyes around, making sure no one can see me, even though it feels like everyone's watching anyway.
The little crucifix on the far wall is, and you know what, I don't even care if it judges me or not anymore.
"Tell me what happened," Mara says to Ben, her voice softening. "You look like hell. Why are you drinking all night like you're trying to become a vegetable?"
"My little sister's getting married. I'm Italian. What do you want me to do?" he mutters.
Mara snorts. "Yeah, right. It has nothing to do with me."
A pause before his voice returns, warmed up. "It does. I'm happy for you."
"You think I'm stupid?" she jumps in, voice that maternal sharpness now. "I've seen the way you and Emma look at each other tonight. That's not friendly or flirtatious. Somethinghappened between you two. Something very serious."
Ben blows a long breath. "Don't ask me. You wouldn't be very proud of me if you knew—"
Mara lets out a long breath, too. "I think I know."
What? What does she mean?
A beat.
My ear presses harder against the wood, trying to grab every word that comes next.
"You know what?" Ben asks tentatively.
Mara sighs again, louder this time. "You think I didn't play my part? I staged that coffee so you guys could talk. Told her you for sure weren't coming so she wouldn't rabbit. I asked her to join us to Nevada and told you right away to get her a ticket. Because I knew you still cared for her."
Ben huffs, probably equally stunned as I am.
"You went three years, praying she'd show up," she adds.
"I didn't," he shoots defensively.
I can practically hear Mara's look on him. "Beniamino? When you heard she was coming, you built her a damn palace in the desert with fairy lights so she'd have somewhere to sleep. Stop lying to me for once,dai."
My heart seizes. So that's why he was dodging my questions. He didn't go for the fun or the art. He went because I used to talk about it constantly, and he thought I might actually show up, and needed to be there if I did.
"Okay. Fine. All of it's true," he says irritably. "Now what?"
Mara sighs. "You're so dramatic. It's fine."
