Ten
Lucy
Kirill
What time should I pick you up?
I wasbusy applying the last coat of mascara to my lashes when the text came. I had a feeling I knew what this was about, but I’d been simmering in annoyance with him overnight, so I texted back.
Me
???
For the cake tasting.
I stared at his message, trying to figure out how to reply. My mother and I were meeting Irina and Aralina at the patisserie that was part of Marriage Ink’s wedding empire.
Apparently, Kirill was impatient with my response and decided to call. Just as well.
Without saying hello, I said, “My mother?—”
He cut me off. “It’s going to be the two of us. Irina informed your mother of the change of plans.”
Hmm…last I saw Mamma, she was already in full makeup, though she was still wearing a robe.
“Why can’t we all go? Mamma and I can meet you guys there.”
“You suggested we needed to be seen in public.”
“It’s normal to be around family in the weeks leading up to the wedding.”
“I’m trying here. We’ll go to lunch afterwards and chat like a newly engaged couple.”
“Oh my God, don’t let me twist your arm. It’s not like this is a love match. I’m perfectly aware of what to expect.”
“Are you?” he said in a dry tone. “Because you threw a tantrum yesterday.”
“You haven’t seen a tantrum yet. What happened to your reason for being available for Davenport’s will reading?”
“My lawyer can handle it.” He sighed. “What time should I pick you up?”
“I’ll be ready in thirty minutes. The appointment is at eleven. It’s at?—”
“I know where it is.”
“Fine.”
He ended the call. I stared at my phone again, seething. I should use “asshat” for his contact name.
I lost interest in getting ready. I was hoping to make a good impression on Irina, who seemed elegantly coiffed and dressed every time I saw her. I ditched the gloss on my lips or blush or extra powder and headed downstairs straight for the kitchen to grab a protein bar.
But Mamma was busy in the kitchen rustling up something over the stove, the aroma making me salivate. She was swaying to music playing on the kitchen radio. Dad was sitting atthe breakfast table having coffee, but I caught him watching Mamma with heated eyes.
Ugh. As much as I loved how crazy my parents were about each other, I didn’t want to be around during their amorous moments.
“Morning. Smells good in here.” For the De Luccis, despite the massive houses, the kitchen always had a warm, cozy feeling. This one had pistachio-colored cabinets and red tiles reminiscent of a Tuscan kitchen.
Mamma had changed out of the bathrobe she had on earlier into her favorite embroidered dressing gown, signaling she and Dad were in no hurry to go anywhere and were lounging at home. She turned to greet me, and I was surprised she wasn’t sulking but glowing.
