I hate that my instinct is to be upset over this, because I’m so proud she’s doing something for herself.
Taking a deep breath, I smile through my sadness. “I’ll miss you terribly. You know that, right?”
She quickly wipes her tears with the back of her hand. “It’s the only thing that’s held me back, knowing I won’t see you everyday. And it won’t happen overnight. I still need to work on my visa and all that fun stuff.”
“I’m sorry, Lo. I never want you to feel like I’m holding you back from anything. We’ll work it all out in time, I promise,” I say, then, “Fuck.”
She startles at my sudden outburst. “What’s wrong?”
“If you’re not here, does that mean I actually have to start being friendly?”
She bursts out laughing. “You’re ridiculous. I’ll make sure to be extra nice to everyone when I’m in the office to tide them over.”
“God, I still can’t believe we’re talking about this.” I shake my head, smiling. “Not only have you finally met your match, but it’s my freaking brother. You seem so happy.”
She beams, that dreamy look taking over her face again. “I know. Before we talk all about that, though, I have other news you may not like.”
“What could be worse than you leaving?”
“Romeo thinks you need to go to Italy.” I open my mouth, but she keeps talking. “Before you go all ‘I’m too busy’ on me, listen to what I have to say.”
“Fine,” I drag out.
“While you were in Paris, I spoke to Romeo. He told me he understands you run a business and that staying the rest of the summer would be nearly impossible. His dad’s the one who’s brought up how you’ve turned down the offer a few times already. He thinks his father was insulted, which could easily be the case. An old-school Italian man offers you one of his gorgeous homes for the summer, and you turn him down? He’s our biggest client; it doesn’t look good.”
I throw my head back on the sofa and close my eyes in frustration. I do not have time to leave again. If I did, I would be on the next flight to Italy.
Who the hell would turn down a free trip to a gorgeous villa?
Absolutely no one.
I’m not saying no because I’m ungrateful. I’ve turned it down because I have enough work to last me a lifetime, and there aren’t enough hours in the day to get through it.
“Lo, I just got back from a week in Paris. I have so much to catch up on. How on earth would it work?”
“I don’t know, but you’ll make it happen for them.” She scrunches up her face and adds, “Especially because… I already told them yes.”
I practically catapult off the sofa. “What?” I shriek.
“There was no other choice,” she says, throwing her hands up in frustration. “They put me on the spot, and there was no way I could say no after they just signed the contract with us. You need to suck it up and go. You can make it a working trip if you want. You have that new client based out of Florence, the fashion designer! Plus, it would be nice if you touched base with Alessia, considering she got us the DeLuca project. Do whatever you need to do, but you’re going.” She takes a breath, then aggressively points her finger at me. “And stop complaining. Some people never get to take a holiday, let alone two in the span of a few weeks. Get over yourself.”
Rearing back to avoid her finger—and her attitude—I know I can’t disagree one bit.
“Okay, calm down. If you’re this grumpy, you’re spending too much time with my brother.”
I know it’s the right thing to do, but I’m still dreading the idea. Even thinking about packing for a whole other trip is making me break out in hives.
Nonetheless, I need to figure it out and see it as an opportunity. Plus, as Lola said, I can meet a few clients there. It’ll be less stressful if I can use the trip to multitask. Maybe Jack can even meet me for the weekend, and we can have a romantic getaway. Sure, we just arrived home from Paris, but by the time we finally figured things out between us, we only spent two days there as a couple, and then everyone had already arrived. It was a whirlwind of chaos. We really didn’t have much time to ourselves.
“When do I leave?”
She’s slowly backing out of my office, not answering.
“Lola,” I warn.
“They’ve booked a first-class ticket for you, and you leave tomorrow,” she mutters.
I rub my hands down my face and take a deep breath to keep from losing my shit. “Can you come back into my office? I won’t freak out, but I want to know why you’re only telling me now.” I get up, looking over all my work on my desk.
