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“Inside joke.” Valentina laughs. “You wouldn’t get it, don’t worry.”
“Look, stop giving Enzo a hard time about this. You know the drill when you go away, Valentina. Why are you being like this?”
“Because I need some freedom, get it?”
Angelo flicks his eyes toward her back, and I know without him speaking he’s growing tired of this fast. “You’ve got freedom, Valentina. I could send Dom with you, or Darko… or even worse… Rocco. In fact, maybe I will.”
“You wouldn’t!” she cries.
“Watch me,” he mutters.
“How am I ever supposed to have any fun with your guys always tailing me and watching everything I do.”
“It’s really not that bad,” Marco puts in. “They give you enough space.”
I’m keeping well out of this one.
“Fine, you won’t mind then if I hook up with Toby at the wedding since he’s back in town. That’s if my babysitter over here lets me loose for five seconds.”
“Toby? That dick weasel that left to go to Europe a few summers ago?” Marco questions.
I see he’s utilizing his somewhat photographic memory again.
“He isn’t a dick weasel, thank you very much,” Valentina retorts, even though I’m aware enough to know she would rather stab him with her nail file than get back with him again.
“No one is hooking up with anyone. Besides, Enzo can be your date slash bodyguard.” Angelo shrugs like it’s final.
Holy Mother of God.
My eyes snap up at him. “What?”
“She wants a fucking diversion, she’s got one. You’re her plus one anyway. Just no funny business, for fuck’s sake, and don’t let her drink too much.”
Of course he’s being ironic, but I still blow out a breath, and as I glance up, I see Valentina smiling at me. Oh, she just knows how to get her own way. Shrugging, she brings her coffee cup to her plush lips.
“Now there’s a plan I can get behind,” she muses, not taking her eyes off me. “Only because you’re one of the few people I can tolerate, Enzo.”
Fuck.
“I already agreed to go,” I mutter. “Plus one or whatever the hell that means.”
“It’s settled, then. Now…” Marco pulls up a chair and looks up at Valentina. “Let’s go over that color scheme you’ve been going on about before my ears bleed some more.”
She glances at me, her eyes pleading. Not so smug now are you,little princess.
I raise my eyebrows at her, waiting for her to stand her ground on her suggestions.
“I need to get changed first, before we get into that,” she says, striding past us and putting her cup down as she goes. “I’ll be right back.”
I fucking hope she puts her best stubborn foot forward when she returns. She needs to; she knows what she’s doing if the ground floor of the casino is anything to go by.
I know she lacks confidence, but she shouldn’t. She’s done an amazing job so far.
“What the hell is up her ass?” Marco shakes his head as he watches her retreating figure.
“Women,” Angelo mutters, because that just explains everything. “You’d think it was fucking royalty getting married the way she’s carrying on.”
“She wants to market the crowd while she’s there,” I say absently. “Mingle with high society.”
