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“Why, when I have you to do it for me?”
“Who says I’m always going to be around?” In the middle of looping one end over another, she heard the portent in her words and fumbled. “I would think your bride would prefer she do this for you.”
She felt his muscles tense. “Perhaps,” he answered, rather distractedly. “But will she be as good as you?”
“Oh, I think most people are. It isn’t as hard as you think.”
“Or as easy,” he replied.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Nothing.” His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “I imagine you’ll be glad to be free of the duty. Taking care of me must get tiring after a while.”
That was an odd choice of words. Rosa pulled the bow tight. “I’ve never minded doing things for you,” she told him. In fact, it was one of the best parts of her job. She’d found a certain kind of symbiosis in taking care of him while he grieved. The more she did, the more she remembered how strong and capable she could be. Taking care of Armando had brought back part of the woman Fredo nearly erased.
She pulled the ends of the tie, then smoothed the front of his jacket. The planes of his chest were firm and broad beneath her fingers. “There,” she said. “Perfect as always.”
“So are you,” he replied with a smile. “You look beautiful.”
“My dress is too tight.
“Stop channeling Fredo. You look perfect. You always look perfect.”
The sliver of hope throbbed inside her heart. He needed to stop making her feel special.
“Armando...”
“Rosa...”
They spoke at the same time, Armando reaching for her hand as she attempted to back away.
“I—” Whatever he was going to say was halted by a pair of deep voices. She managed to slip from his grip just as Max and another man strolled in.
“And you’re telling me this is only one of the dining rooms?” the stranger was asking.
“One of three,” Max replied.
“Damn. This place makes the Fox Club look like a fast food joint. Hello, who’s this?” He smiled at Rosa. “You weren’t at the rehearsal, were you? I would have remembered.”
“Dial it back, cowboy. I don’t need a scandal.” Max clasped the man on the shoulder. “Rosa Lamberti, may I present to you my best friend, Darius Abbott. He just arrived from New York.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Rosa replied, recognizing the name. “You’re Max’s best man, right?”
The African-American was slightly shorter than Max, but had a muscular build, the kind you might expect from a rugby player. The shoulders of his rented tux pulled tight as he lifted her hand to his lips. “They don’t make them better,” he replied, winking over her fingers. Rosa giggled at his outrageousness. Max’s friend was a first-class flirt.
“Rosa is Prince Armando’s assistant,” Max told him. “She’s been a huge help this week, too. Without her and Louisa, I’m pretty sure Arianna would have lost it.”
“I didn’t do that much,” Rosa replied. “A little organizing is all.”
“As usual, Rosa is underselling herself,” Armando chimed in.
“Didn’t I warn you, dude?” said Darius. Eyes sparkling, he leaned in toward her as though to divulge a dark secret. “I told him something about weddings make women crazy. Even good ones like Arianna.”
“My sister didn’t go crazy,” Armando replied.
“Much,” Rosa said. “Her nerves got to her at the end. But overall, she was pretty good,” she added, looking over to Armando.
“Probably because she got such good help,” Darius said. “I know I’m feeling calmer.”
“What can I say, I have a gift.”
“You certainly do.”
Good Lord, but he was over-the-top. Rosa couldn’t remember the last time a man—other than Armando—complimented her so audaciously. She would be lying if she didn’t say she found his behavior immensely flattering.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Armando watching them with narrowed, disapproving eyes. Immediately she dialed back her behavior so he wouldn’t be upset.
What was she doing? Max’s friend was a charming, handsome man. If she wanted to flirt with him, that was her business. A little ego stroking was exactly what she could use right now.
It was definitely better than pining for Armando, who didn’t—couldn’t—want her.
Feeling audacious, she offered up her best charming smile. “Have you found where you’re sitting yet, Darius?” she asked. “If you’d like, I can help you find your place setting. We don’t assign places the same way as they do for American head tables.”
