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I nod.
Aside from my team needing time to prepare, I need to get word to Nathan. Hearing I’m engaged to the mafia princess out of the blue, when we’d met just last night, would take him by surprise.
We work on a no-surprises basis where possible.
Given I’ll be stepping into his world, into the Mancini residence, and meeting my fake father-in-law, well, Nathan needs a heads-up on that.
“We’ll do a press meeting,” Tim says. “This afternoon, we’ll send out invites, but they won’t know what we’re announcing until they arrive. We’ll have media packs for them.”
I glance at Tim, then back at Lilly.
“That’s all. And another coffee.” I glance into my empty cup.
“Yes, sir.” Lilly makes her way out of the office.
I stand, stretching my body. I missed my daily workout this morning to get a head start on things, and I’m feeling it. After being a marine, sitting behind a desk has taken some getting used to.
“Connor,” Tim says, and I glance his way. “Is there anything you’re not telling me? I need to be prepared for all possibilities and questions the media could throw at us, so with respect, I’d appreciate if you could share everything now.”
I hired Tim because he’s astute, so I’m not surprised he smells a rat. Today, though, he needs to just do his damn job.
“Mia being the daughter of Joseph Mancini is a challenge, I understand,” I reply, not answering his direct questions because he doesn’t demand things from me. “However, I trust you’ll navigate it. Focus on the fact we are in love and all that.”
The look he gives me saysbullshit.
He’s right, but that’s not his job.
“It’s important we’re clear Barrett Industries has absolutely no involvement with mafia business. And we never have. We continue to be a law-abiding organization that contributes to the community. You can quote me on that.”
Tim nods. “For the media packs, do you and Ms. Mancini have any photos we could use to show your dating history?”
He knows there aren’t any.
The fucker is digging for information.
I trust him but not enough to sell the scoop of his life and make a clean ten mill.
“Draw up the media release and have it to me by lunchtime,” I say, ignoring him again, then walk to my chair and sit down. I wiggle my mouse to wake up my laptop. “Speak to Lilly if you need anything else. Otherwise, Mia and I will be here in the morning by eight.”
I wonder what kind of ring Mia would like. Lilly has already emailed me a gallery of images from Harry Winston to start looking through.
“Yes, sir,” Tim says. “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t warn you the media are going to be skeptical about this...”
I glance up at him.
“And wonder why you’re engaged to a woman related to the most dangerous mob in America.”
He’s trying my patience. “So do your fucking job. If you need a reminder of why you’re standing in this office, Tim, go check your last pay slip.”
He presses his lips together.
Tim earns nearly more than any of the executives on my team because public relations is damn important and he’s one of the best. Which is why he’s challenging me.
Tim is right. He’s doing his job.
But this isn’t a rebrand or business merger, for goddamn sakes. This is my personal life.
“I’m not giving you any more details. I am marrying Mia Mancini, and we are in love. That’s it. Make sure the media believe it, and don’t question the organization has any links with the mafia,” I say, then more darkly add, “because we don’t.” I’m out of patience. Or maybe I’m stressed when I say, “If you can’t do your job, then I will find someone who will.”
