Everything went into crisis mode.
My uncle decided to decimate the company rather than let him have it, and every day became a fight. There’s no time for me to fall apart or to work on myself. There’s still no time.
I blow-dry my hair and pat my face with a cold cloth. By the time I head downstairs, I’ve hidden all evidence of the weakness I can’t let Rafe see.
Can’t let anyone see.
The house has been restored from the dinner-turned-party last night. The large, airy rooms look pristine again, and the double doors are open to the terrace to let in the warm breeze from the lake. Branches from a large olive tree in a terracotta pot sway outside the kitchen door.
I grab breakfast from the kitchen and chat with Antonella. With each sip of cool water and easy conversation, I feel moreand more like myself. It’s easier to push away what happened earlier.
“Do you know where Rafe is?” I ask.
“He’s meeting with his PR team, I believe,” she says. She’s filling up the wine fridge in the kitchen, the radio playing crooning Italian songs. “He always has busy mornings.”
I blink. “His PR team?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Thank you so much.” I slip off the chair and hurry up the stairs to his study. I find him sitting in the same chair as last time, but he’s not alone. There’s a redheaded woman and a dark-haired man sitting opposite him. Itisa meeting. An actual meeting.
Rafe looks up. “Ah. She finally made it. Paige, meet Wren, head of Valmont PR, and Karim, my executive assistant. They flew in this morning to start working on our wedding.”
I should be in this meeting. I know it, and so does he, judging by the smug freaking look on his face.
“Thank you forinformingme,” I say.
“I knocked on your door this morning. There was no response.” He nods to the empty chair next to the redheaded woman named Wren. “Have a seat.”
I can’t believe I wasturned onby him last night. Now I want nothing more than to be as far away from him as possible.
But instead of running, I sit and smile widely at both of his associates. I might want to strangle him with his own starched linen shirt, but I’ll be damned if anyone else thinks of me as difficult.
He’s the only one I want to drive insane.
“Thank you both for helping us with this,” I say. “I’ll be a team player in any way I can when it comes to public perception. What have you discussed so far?”
They’ve done impressive work. Wren walks through her idea of giving a big fashion magazine an exclusive. “We’dgiveLusteran exclusive interview, as well as the first pictures of the wedding and details of the planning,” she finishes. She has an Australian accent, and I’m continually struck by how international Rafe’s team is. I’m guessing he only hires the best, and it doesn’t matter where he has to relocate them from.
“It’s invasive,” he says.
“It’s brilliant,” I say.
Wren smiles. “It is both, yes. But it gives us a chance to control the narrative as well as the stamp of credibility from a huge publication. We’ve set up a wedding cake tasting for you tomorrow, to be photographed.Lusterwill be sending a local correspondent fromLuster Italia. After that, I believe Karim has something planned.”
“Yes,” he says, and opens a binder. “You’ll come back here and try wines for the wedding. There will be a brief photography session, not more than ten minutes or so. But the decisions you make tomorrow will make it into your wedding, so it’s not just for show.” He has a faint, polished French accent.
“I don’t care about the cake, the food, or the wine,” Rafe says. “Make whatever decisions are best.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s to make it lookreal.”
“I understand that,” he says, eyes on mine, “but looking real and being real are two different things.”
“Trust me, I know all about that,” I say, and think of him carrying me yesterday, his arms around me.
“We’ll take care of everything that’s not public,” Karim interjects. “Tomorrow is only so elaborate because of the photographers. But the wedding invitations, for example, have already been designed. We went with cream paper with a subtle sheen and deep lavender text.”
“The list of guests?” Rafe asks.
