I turn to Vincenzo, still impressed by Anita’s show of force. “That is not how I saw that going,” I say.
Vincenzo smiles and pats me on the shoulder. “C’è un nuovo sole tutti i giorni,Izzy.” He gestures around at the overall cheeriness of the festivities. “There is a new sun every day.”
I walk over to Anita. “That was badass,” I say.
She shrugs. “I did what I should have done long ago. And when Benito told me he came back here only for me, I knew I could not let him sacrifice everything again.” She looks over at Benito and smiles. “Someone else beat me to the punch in freeing him from his father, but it was still worth it. We’ve all sacrificed too much for Raffaello.” She winks at me and heads inside.
When Benito said he told Anita everything, he really did tell her everything. It makes sense that this was the last straw. Anita’s love for her children overpowers everything else, as it should. She loves Benito way too much to let him become a pawn in Raffaello’s game—I guess we’re alike in that way.
I look around the party for Benito, but I don’t see him anywhere. He’s not in the backyard, or in line for food, or even refilling his prosecco glass at the foyerbar. I check upstairs and see the door to his office is open. When I enter, Sutton is zipping up a suitcase, an air mattress deflating next to her while Raffaello pleads with her in rapid Italian. He touches her lower back. My heart sinks. IsSuttonRaffaello’s secret mistress?
Raffaello leans in close, his mouth close to her ear, but Sutton quickly shimmies out of his grasp, pushing him away. “Raffaello, no. You are drunk, you are sad, you are embarrassed, but I am not interested, and I am your colleague. I suggest you walk away now and never try this again if you want to keep it that way.”
My eyes widen. Good for Sutton. My women’s intuition kicks in and I walk into the room, not wanting her to be alone with him for another second. Sutton might not be my favorite person, but no one deserves that. “Hey, Sutton, I have that thing you asked me for,” I say. She stares at me quizzically and I widen my eyes, cocking my head ever so slightly.
After an awkward moment, Sutton nods, understanding. “Right, good, thanks,” she says.
“Can you give us a sec, Raffaello?” I ask. He glares at me and doesn’t budge. “It’s, um, woman stuff.”
Raffaello backs up out of the room with his hands in the air.
When he leaves, Sutton looks at me, annoyed. “I can handle him myself,” she says, but her voice is quiet.
I shrug. “I know.”
Her expression softens. “Thanks.”
“Are you ok?” I ask.
“I’m good.” She takes in a sharp breath. “Raffaello is the worst.”
A half groan, half laugh escapes out of me. “I thought you two were like, besties.”
She rolls her eyes and throws her hands up in the air. “All part of the game.”
I smile at her. Pretending to be buddy-buddy with terrible men is a game I know well. “Have you seen Benito?” I ask.
Sutton lets out a little huff, the girl power moment apparently passed. “You just missed him. He told me to go back to London, so I am.” She laughs, but it sounds manic. “Thank god. I hate it here. I’m glad I won’t have a reason to come here again.” She’s trying to act casual, but her shoulders are scrunched up nearly to her ears.
“Benito’s definitely not going back with you, then?” I ask.
Sutton stands and sets her suitcase upright, pulling the handle out. “No. He’s not.”
I suppress a smile but I’m glad to know that at the very least, Benito’s not returning to London. “Well, it was. . . nice to meet you,” I say.
“I’ll be in touch,” she says with a nod, brushing past me to roll her suitcase out of the room.
“You will?”
Sutton turns back around, her shoulders falling. “Right, with Anita as mayor, I suppose there will be no development deal and no need to use your face for an ad campaign.” She uses the elastic around her wrist to tie her hair back into a ponytail. “Perfect.”
“Sorry,” I say, though I’m not sure I mean it. “It’s just, it wasn’t really something I wanted to do, but I was willing to make the trade for the sake of—”
She puts her hand up to cut me off. “It’s fine. I get it. I’d do the exact same thing.”
I feel another twinge of empathy for Sutton. She’s ambitious, smart, a go-getter. I may not agree with her ethics, but I appreciate her drive. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you need me to be successful. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re running Raffaello’s company someday.”
Sutton’s face softens for a moment, but she puts her hand back on her suitcase handle and starts to roll her way out. “Then I guess we finally agree on something.”
