“Mom—”
“I’m asking a practical question.”
“I looked at it again, and I’d say it’s closer to twenty-five million, counting his endorsements,” Luca says.
Dead silence.
My mother blinks.
I cross my arms over my chest. “I really don’t see why this factors into our conversation.”
My mother has gone quiet. I see her recalibrating. She’s a woman of convictions, but I think the dollar signs are winning out the more she hears those numbers.
“I still think that you need to be careful,” she says primly. “A man like that. These athletes, Lola, they have a certain kind of life?—”
“He’s not like that,” I say. “He never was.”
“Then why did he break your heart?” She looks at me pointedly.
“I’m the one who ended things,” I say.
The call goes still.
“You never told me you were the one who ended it,” she says quietly.
“What?” Luca says.
“I always assumed he—” My mother stops and looks at me more carefully. “But you’re saying you left him.”
“It’s complicated,” I say.
“Lola—”
“It was complicated,” I say, more firmly. “And I don’t want to get into all of it right now. But it wasn’t what it looked like from the outside. It wasn’t what I wanted at all. And now I have a chance to—” I stop. Breathe. “I’d like to have your support. That’s all I’m asking for.”
Mom’s expression softens a little.
“Fine,” she says. “But you call me from Minnesota.”
“I will.”
“And you tell this boy that your mother expects to meet him.”
“Okay, I’ll tell him.”
“Twenty-five million,” she says, almost to herself, and Isla makes a sound that she changes to a cough.
“I have questions,” Luca says. “Not bad questions. You’re my sister, and this is a big deal.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away,” I tell him.
“You’re forgiven. Is he good to you?”
“So good.”
Luca nods. “Okay.” He holds his hand up. “For now. I reserve the right to change my mind if our meeting doesn’t go well…which I expect to happen soon.”
“Deal.”
