He froze. “Did—did John tell you something?”
“Tell me what?” she asked innocently.
“You know that’s a breach of confidentiality.” He sighed, realizing that she knew before he had a chance to inform her. “My lawyer shouldn’t be telling you all about my endeavors.”
“John has worked for us since before you were born. Where do you think his loyalty lies?” she asked confidently. “Plus he was technically acting as counsel in that moment so he’s not necessarily bound by confidentiality.”
“That still doesn’t justify him telling you about my personal affairs.”
“Oh, you mean your marriage to that actress? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you planned this since you got infatuated with her at twenty-one. It’s not every day someone marries their crush. Emily Pinault, is it?”
“It’s merely a coincidence.” He tried to stay composed. “And she’s no longer my crush.”
“Coincidences rarely happen when it comes to you.”
It didn’t matter what he said…she wouldn’t believe him. Hell, he wouldn’t either if he were in her shoes. The whole thing felt absurd, like it would take the universe bending in his favor for their stars to align.
Somehow, impossibly, it had.
Delusion crept in, tempting him with dangerous thoughts. Ones that stated maybe this was fate.
“I know I should be grateful you found someone willing to agree to that crazy stipulation of marriage meaning stability,” she said, “but I can’t help wondering…what does she get out of this? Her family’s just as well off, and she doesn’t seem short of suitors.”
The thought of Emily with other men made him shift in his chair. It brought back a restless feeling he thought he’d long tamed.
“She was in a bit of a bind herself,” he shared quickly. “How’s Anna doing?”
His mother fell for the change of topic. “I heard you bought her tickets? You need to stop feeding her obsession! I’ve heard more about this Alfie boy than I ever cared to. She’s starting to sound like you with your jazz fixation. I only made peace with your taste when Pavarotti got thrown into the mix.”
“It’s a harmless pastime, just like your opera singers. She’s someone who needs inspiration constantly. Consider it part of her studies.”
“You always cover for her. You’ve spoiled her rotten! Don’t be surprised if she turns around and bites your hand that feeds her.”
She could be so dramatic sometimes.
“When will you visit Milan again?”
His fingers running across the edge of his desk paused.
“Anna’s the one who asked, not me.”
He couldn’t fight the smile anymore. “I have some time next week. I’ll come then. I’ve been meaning to let you know.”
“Make sure to bring Emily along.” Her voice was hesitant, but he knew she didn’t have it in her to be opposed to Emily.
His mother had witnessed it firsthand, how Emily hadbeen his refuge as a new adult. The only thing that kept him sane during those relentless meetings, endless introductions, and teachings under his father’s watch.
The only time he had to himself was spent watching films.Herfilms.
It was the single instance, his mother had pointed out while arguing with his father, in which he’d apparently not looked like a goddamn zombie.
The reminder gave him a whiplash.
Suddenly, the urge to apologize to her overwhelmed him. What he’d done now felt like he’d shot himself in the foot and he didn’t want to delay saying he was wrong this time. Things like this had a habit of piling up and turning out for the worse.
“Ma, I think I’m going to have to call you back.”
He hung up and rushed out of his study.
