They’re too difficult to handle.
The weight on my chest intensifies in a clear signal. I’ve felt this too many times. For years, I’ve managed to keep them at bay, ensuring the attacks come few and far between.But this is the third one since Rafe revealed how many shares he owns of Mather & Wilde.
I focus on breathing through the vise around my chest.
Everyone back home will read these headlines. Everyone who works at Mather & Wilde, the skilled craftspeople who make our bags and our loafers, will be talking about this. Right this second.
I’m trying to save the company for them, for all of us.
I can’t have a panic attack. I don’t have the time.
Some people recommend breathing deeply, trying to calm yourself. But I can’t sit with my anxiety for a second longer than I have to. So I stick my feet in a pair of flats and pull on a sundress.
My rings lie on the dresser by the door. Gold and large and haunting. I reach out and slide them both onto my ring finger. There’s only one way to solve the negative press, and as much as I hate it, I’m going to do it.
If I cansolvethis, it might make the panic disappear.
I set out in search of Rafe.
Villa Egeria is large, and I have only a vague sense of the sprawling hallways and spiral staircases to guide me. Light streams in through the windows and beckons of summer outside. Maybe I should go swimming after this. The cool water will help.
I walk fast and feel the tight noose around my chest shift with every step.
Movement helps. Movement has always helped.
He’s not in the sitting rooms or out on the terrace. Not in the kitchen, either. I don’t see Antonella or the gardeners. He’d said no pets, but this place would be wonderful with a dog or two.A whole pack of them.I discover an expansive wine cellar and a butler’s pantry, but no Hunter in Cashmere.
That’s when I hear voices from upstairs.
I follow them back up the staircase and down the hall toward his bedroom. Beside it is a large library with a pooltable in the middle, and across from it a small study. It has dusty blue walls and dark furniture, with a window overlooking the lake.
And sitting at the desk, his computer open and on the phone, is my biggest headache.
“Give them nothing. Kill it if you can,” he tells the person on the phone. His eyes are on me, and he clicks off the call without saying goodbye. “Good morning.”
The politeness in his tone, like he’s dealing with someone he barely knows, throws me off. “Good morning.”
“I take it you’ve seen the news.”
“Yes. They won’t stop speculating,” I say, and wonder if I’m going to have a panic attack right in front of him. I can’t. The embarrassment would kill me.
“I suspect so.” He looks like everything I’m not, leaned back in his chair, linen shirt pressed. The only thing off are the shadows beneath his eyes, like he hasn’t slept. “But I’m handling it.”
“How? By sayingno commentto newspapers?”
His eyes dip down my body before he looks back at my face. It’s only a millisecond. I wonder if he disapproves of the rumpled sundress I threw on. He’s the kind of man who wears tailored suits and bespoke Artemis watches.
“It’s a good strategy. We also got this,” he says, and pushes over a stack of documents. It looks like a legal complaint, and seeing the name of the plaintiff makes me feel sick.
“My uncle is contesting our marriage?”
“Yes, as expected. He’s saying you did it to get your shares, and that we’re not a love match.” Rafe lifts an eyebrow. “Love of your life, I believe your parents’ will specifies.”
“We knew he would contest it.”
“Yes. But he has no case. It’s not for a court of law to dictate emotions, and that clause wouldn’t hold up in court.”
My nails dig into the meat of my palms. Maybe. But Idon’t want to risk it. “He could make things very uncomfortable for us. And public.”
