Of course, she’s here. Of course, this was the project he’d put me on.
“Please,” I say instead. “It’s clearly a WAGs project. Nice and safe away from prying eyes.”
Her eyes narrow at that. “I should call Cas, then! See if she’s up for a bit of fun.”
Something cool and possessive stirs within me. Cassandra has been my friend since childhood. What kind of claim does Isabella Vitale have to her?
It’s just playground tactics, I realize, with a start. And actually, I have no interest in playing.
“Are we doing this or not?” I say as I take a seat, not needing to feign my exhaustion as I look over some of the documents sprawled across the table before her.
Isabella eyes me cautiously before clearing her throat. “I’ve taken the liberty of printing off the floor plans for us. I think you’ll find it all quite satisfactory. I’ve spent my entire life in casinos.”
I glance at the paper she indicates. “And I’ve spent my entire life with the Guild. They’re going to hate this.”
“What are you talking about? These designs are perfect.”
“The foyer is just a Prince’s Hand logo.”
“All our casinos have this style of foyer.” She bares her teeth when she smiles.
“The design needs to be more subtle. This is like putting a statue of the Celtics in the entrance of Mia Square Garden.” I pause for a second. “And they’re not your casinos anymore,Mrs. Vitale. You married into the Guild.”
Her lip twitches. “My brother already approved?—”
“Myhusbandasked me for my insight on this, so I’m giving it to you,” I snap back.
Isabella sucks on her teeth. “You really wanna play this game with me?”
“No!” I say, exasperated. “I don’t. I just want to get this over with so I can go back to my fucking apartment and be fucking miserable in fucking peace. This was a terrible, terrible idea.”
I go to stand, but Isabella gets up with me. “Wait.”
“What?”
“Neither of us wants to work on this.”
I give her a long look. “No kidding.”
“So, how about we just call a truce? Let’s just…start again, shall we?” Isabella suddenly looks about as tired as I feel. “I’m stilltrying to get my head around the fact that it’syouof all people who…”
She doesn’t finish the sentence. She doesn’t need to.
“The point is,” she recovers after a moment, “I care about my brother. A lot. And Cas says you’re a good person, but the thing is, I’m not sure ifI knowthat’s true. So you’re really going to need to prove yourself to me.”
“Are you seriously giving me the shotgun talk right now?”
“Yes,” she says, unwavering. “Because my brotherisa good person. And if you hurt him, Mia. I swear to God?—”
My phone suddenly begins to ring. Which I’m sure I should probably completely ignore right now, given the circumstances.
Except it’s my burner. And there’s only one number on that phone.
“Excuse me,” I mutter as I pull it out.
“I wasn’t finished!”
“Bigger fish, Mrs. Vitale.” I hold a finger up to silence her as I put it to my ear. “Carmen Rubio! It’s been a while.”
