Page 150 of Diego

Donna looks around the apartment with open interest, although she does not make me feel as though she is evaluating the square footage, so it doesn't put me on edge. “This is cute.”

“Thank you.”

Julia takes in the files on the table. “You really are working.”

“I told you I was.”

“I thought maybe you were exaggerating.”

“Who exaggerates about paperwork?”

She shrugs lightly.

Donna has already made her way toward the dining area. She glances down at the legal pad, then at the laptop screen without getting close enough to actually read anything. “How long have you been at this?”

“Since this morning.”

Donna and Julia share a look.

I immediately dislike whatever passes silently between them. “No,” I say.

Donna turns back toward me, eyebrow lifted. “No what?”

“Whatever you two just silently said to each other.”

“We haven’t said anything.”

“Silently,” I emphasize.

Julia laughs again, but there is nothing sharp about it. “You’re going to fit in just fine.”

I fold my arms. “I am not trying to fit into anything.”

That quiets them for half a beat.

The reason for my mood presses closer again, and I regret the edge in my voice almost immediately.

Donna’s expression changes first. She does not look offended. If anything, she looks like she understands more than I want her to.

“We know,” she says.

I look away.

There it is. The reason for their visit.

I do not know what Diego told his family after leaving my apartment last week, but there is no chance they are standing here because they suddenly developed an interest in my work habits.

“I’m really not in the mood to talk about Diego.”

“Good,” Julia says. “Neither are we.”

“Hardly ever, in fact,” Donna says.

I look back at her.

Julia nods toward my laptop. “We came to get you out of here.”

“I have work,” I repeat.