“You’re drunk,” Nicolina says, casting a shadow over my bikini-clad body as I lie stretched out on the sun lounger by my pool.
“And you’re blocking my sun.” I jerk my head at the lounger beside me. “Sit your skinny little butt down.”
My only female friend lies beside me, setting an empty wineglass down on the circular glass table between us. Nic shoves the hem of her cute blue summer dress up to her thighs and closes her eyes as she tips her head back, lifting her face to the sun.
“Dario sent you to babysit me,” I surmise, conscious I may be slightly inebriated. After three large whiskies, I grabbed a bottle of Sancerre from the refrigerator and came out here to relax. Not that it’s working, and despite what my friend thinks, I’m not nearly drunk enough.
“He’s worried about you. He told me what happened and how Renzo stormed out of here.”
I heave a tired sigh. “I know Renzo’s concern comes from a good place, but he’s thinking with his heart, not his head.”
“He’s still in love with you,” she says, opening her eyes and sitting up straighter.
“He was never in love with me,” I scoff, pouring my bestie a large glass of crisp white wine. “He has been many things to me over the years. My trainer. A friend. My closest confidant and a trusted colleague. He’s my family. He was only my lover for a short time, and he doesn’t love me, at least not in the way you are implying.”
“You have a warped view of love,” she replies, accepting the glass I hand to her. “That’s why you don’t see it.”
“I don’t believe in love, so how can I see something I don’t believe exists?”
“You don’t see the love between me and Dario?” she inquires, quirking a brow. “Because that is definitely the real deal.”
“I’m not getting into a philosophical debate with you about love. My acceptance that you two have a good marriage is not a declaration that I believe in love as a concept. More that I believe in you two as soul mates.”
“You’re splitting hairs, Rina, and we both know it.”
“We’re getting off topic. Not that it matters. I’m doing it, and Renzo will just have to get used to it. I’m the boss. I make the decisions. Period.”
Nic swings her legs over the side of the lounger, shielding the sun again as she pins me with a knowing look. “Retract those claws, girl. This is me you’re talking to. I know you’ve got to be scared shitless.”
I sit up, mirroring her position so we are facing one another. “I am, but that has got nothing to do with this. This is a means to an end, and I have never shied away from challenges.”
“I know you are strong. You are the strongest woman I know, but this is going to dredge up all those emotions you have worked so hard to bury. This will not be a cakewalk.”
“You think I don’t know that?” I hiss, gulping back a mouthful of wine. “I know this will be one of the hardest challenges I have faced, but what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”
“Dario says there is little known about this man. Walking into the unknown will make it harder.”
“It could make it easier.” I shrug, because the truth is we don’t know.
“What is known of him isn’t that favorable. He has shirked his responsibilities to his family, leaving his brother to run things alone when he’s clearly incapable of providing the necessary leadership. While reports say Massimo is the ultimate playboy, there are literally no pictures of him anywhere. I googled him before I left the house, and all that came up is he’s an enigma. He could be a worse monster than Paulo. Worse than—” She cuts herself off, cursing softly under her breath.
“You can say it. Worse than his brother though I honestly don’t believe there is a man walking this earth who could ever exceed the creative depths of Carlo Greco’s depravity.”
“I don’t want you to go into this with blinders on.”
Irritation churns in my gut. “I never go into anything without being fully cognizant of all the angles. This will be no different. I will request a meeting with Don Mazzone, outline my proposition to restore peace to the streets of New York, and when he declines my help on the grounds I have no jurisdiction, I will propose myself for the marriage contract. No commitment will be made until I sign on the dotted line, and I will only do that after I have met the man and seen what I will be dealing with.” I stand, snatching the almost-empty bottle of wine in my hand. “If you came over to lecture me, you know where the door is.”
“Shut the fuck up and sit your cranky ass down.” Nic swipes the bottle from my hand and pushes me back onto the lounger. “We care about you, and you want us to challenge your decisions. You were the one who said you didn’t want to be surrounded by yes men. That means you can’t get mad when we question your choices to ensure you have fully thought things through.”
I exhale heavily, knowing I’m being unfair. “You’re right.”
“I always am.” Nic bobs her head and waves of bouncy golden-blonde curls frame her gorgeous face. Occasionally, I am envious of her blonde locks, wishing I didn’t have to dye my natural dark-blonde hair a deep rich brown.
“No one likes a smug asshole,” I remind her, holding out my glass for a top off.
“It works for Fiero Maltese,” she retorts, and I bark out a laugh.
“Fiero is the quintessential mafia playboy. I’m pretty sure Massimo Greco would fall short of the mark when compared to the Maltese heir.”
