“Well it’s about damn time,” Justine’s aunt said in a raspy voice. “Where the hell have you been, girl?”
“Me? You’re the one not returning my calls.” Warmth unfurled, her aunt’s familiar voice a soothing balm where her family had rubbed her raw.
“Sorry, Mom. I meant to call you last night,” Xavier was saying.
“Hmm. Is that Xavier I hear?” Aunt Rosie asked. “Exactly what time is it there?”
Justine glanced at her phone. Seven a.m. “Er, what time is it there?”
“It’s four o’clock in the afternoon, and I’m sharing wine and antipasti with a handsome Italian count.” A man’s deep laughter, followed by words in Italian, followed.
“Oh, nice. How’s Tuscany, Aunt Rosie?”
Xavier tiptoed out of bed and grabbed his underwear before darting out of the room.
“I know that was Xavier,” Rosie muttered. “Fine. Don’t tell your aunt about the man in your room at—” more low Italian rumbling “seven in the morning. And I know you, Ms. Not a Morning Person. So if there’s a man there, it’s because he was sleeping in your bed.” Trust Aunt Rosie to sound both smug and happy about that fact. “It’s about time.”
“What?”
“Wait. Oh no. It’s not Mitch, is it?”
“No, we broke up. That’s why I moved in here, remember?”
Rosie sighed with relief. “Good. Just making sure you didn’t backslide into boring-ville. So. That was Xavier, wasn’t it?”
Justine sat up and pulled the sheet over her chest, as if her aunt could see and know all from abroad. “Uh, maybe.”
Rosie burst into laughter. “I knew it.”
“I told you so.”
Justine paused, that voice she’d overheard not her aunt’s. “Hey, that sounded like Kai.”
“You mean, amazing, must-read, bestselling children’s book author, Kai Strand? Why yes, yes it was.” Rosie added in a lower voice, “She’s currently teasing Guillermo’s cousin and brother. Kai’s quite the hussy.”
Kai laughed, and more male voices joined her in the background.
Then Rosie said, “I’m pleased for you, kid. So tell me what’s been going on. I miss you.”
Justine smiled. Aunt Rosie had always been on her side whenever Justine needed a friend. Someone not intimidated by her parents or ruled by a need to earn millions, despite being savvier than Lyle Ferrara when it came to investing, though on a much smaller scale.
Justine cleared her throat. “Well, I’ve made a great friend in Xavier. I convinced him to be my plus-one for Mallory’s wedding, which saved me from having to go to the wedding with one of dad’s cronies.”
“Oh boy. Lay it on me.”
Conscious that Xavier was in the other room, Justine didn’t want to talk too long. But she did miss her aunt and ended up telling the woman a bit of everything. What Katie was up to, about the terrible boss and unfulfilling job, her new neighbors, and her “fake” boyfriend, Xavier—minus the sex parts.
“I knew you two would hit it off.”
“Really? You never mentioned him before I moved in. And then you only said he was a decent enough neighbor who didn’t make too much noise below you.”
“All true.” Her aunt chuckled. “Didn’t hurt that he’s handsome, intelligent, and well-off financially.”
“Oh? He’s on a break from work, from what I know.” She lowered her voice. “But he’s an LMFT. He can’t be a bazillionaire.” Not working as a therapist.
“Still on a break? I figured he’d be back to work by now. Talk about slacking.”
“What?”
