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“Good.” Rex kisses my cheek. “Stick around, and after the meeting we can grab lunch.”
“I’d love that.”
“I have some of your birthday cake left over in my refrigerator—”
Dante makes a gagging noise. “Get out of here. You’re going to be late for your phone call.”
With a final peck on my cheek, Rex crosses the floor and disappears around the corner. I turn toward Dante. One hand propped on the bar, the other looking through the folder, he’s whistling an unidentifiable tune.
“What’s her name?” I ask, pulling up a barstool so I can sit down.
Dante grins, his eyes still scanning a paper. “Fiona.”
I open my mouth to ask what happened to Felicity, but he shakes his head.
“And that’s all I’m going to tell you, so don’t even think about it. This,” he says, tapping the folder, and changing the subject, “is impressive.”
I’ve got everything for the party sorted and color coded, along with a final spreadsheet of prices.
“I didn’t realize how much goes into throwing an anniversary party,” he says, shaking his head.
“It’s been surprisingly easy. The Ambrosi name must be wildly popular around here.”
Dante freezes, a paper gripped between his fingers, and he looks up at me, his smile gone. “Why do you say that?”
“I—” I shake my head. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it. I just meant it should’ve been more difficult to book some of these vendors on such short notice, but as soon as I mentioned who the party was for, most people were bending over backward to accommodate me.”
He nods, his eyes darting to something over my shoulder. “You don’t know who my parents are?”
“No. Rex has told me a little bit about them, but not much.”
“Probably for the best,” he says, his eyes finding mine. “My father can be…difficult. It’s probably a good thing we’re having the party here. This way Rex and I can escape to our offices if we need a break.”
Cocking my head to the side, I ask, “Why would you need to escape your parents’ anniversary party?”
I can’t put my finger on it, but something flickers behind Dante’s eyes. Does h
e regret his words? Or maybe he wants to tell me more? For whatever reason, it seems he can’t.
Or won’t.
The uncertainty behind his gaze disappears. “I bet you have great parents,” he says smoothly. “They probably tucked you in every night and went to all of your little league games. I bet they call at the same time every week just to check on you.”
If you only knew.
I’m usually good about staying tight-lipped, but this time I give Dante a fraction of the truth.
“That depends on which family you’re asking about. My biological parents, yes, they were perfect. At least in my eyes.” Others might not feel the same way. “Unfortunately, they died when I was a young. My adoptive parents, now that’s a story for another day, and yes, I would need time away from their party. But I highly doubt I would’ve been invited to begin with.”
The air around us is calm, much different than the war raging inside of me. I’ve never spoken ill of my adoptive parents out loud, and it feels good. So damn good. Like a weight has been lifted. The way they treated me is a burden I’ve carried for years. Not even Erin and JJ know how horrible the Blacks were. For the longest time, I felt bad that I hated them because they’d given me safety when I should’ve been dead. But when they walked out on me on my eighteenth birthday, I let whatever guilt I had go.
“I’m sorry,” Dante whispers. “About your parents. That must’ve been hard, losing them as a child. I might have issues with my parents, but at least they’re here, and they care…in their own unique way.”
“Shae?”
Dante and I turn at the sound of Rex’s voice. He’s standing in the mouth of the hallway, hands stuffed in his pockets, and I wonder how much of my conversation with his brother he heard.
“Can I borrow you for a second?” he asks.
