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Apparently, I don’t do a good enough job hiding my amusement. Catarina’s embarrassed expression twists into a reproachful one. “You’re such a jerk.”
“Me? A jerk? You must be mistaken.”
Her lips twitch and she shakes her head. “You’re nothing but trouble.”
“But I’m your trouble.” I shoot her another wink. “Only yours.”
The smile breaks through, and just like every time I see it, I’m struck by how beautiful Catarina Furnari is.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she says, changing the subject. “I’ll be having lunch with Ashley when I’m at work on Wednesday.”
I scowl at the mention of her gold-digging, soulless friend.
She notices but misinterprets the reason for my expression. “What? We aren’t planning on leaving the gallery. We’ll order something in.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s obviously not true.” She frowns. “Do you not want us to do delivery? We can do takeout, but I assumed you wouldn’t want one of my bodyguards leaving their post to go get us food.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?” she repeats with a hint of exasperation.
I exhale a heavy sigh and decide to be honest. “I don’t trust your friend.”
“Ashley?”
I nod.
Catarina’s frown deepens. “Why not?”
There are so many reasons, but the main one is the woman has thrown herself at me almost every time I’ve had the misfortune of finding myself in her presence. Despite the fact she knows I’m engaged to her best friend.
But that’s not the extent of my mistrust.
There’s just something about the vile beauty that puts me on edge—that makes me want to insist Catarina cut her out of her life and find a more trustworthy best friend. A younger, more immature Declan might’ve tried to force the issue. But with age and wisdom, I’ve learned you cannot make someone cut toxic people out of their life. Catarina must see the problem and decide for herself.
But as someone who cares about her, I can at least voice my concerns. “I don’t think Ashley has your best interests at heart.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Observation.”
Catarina waits for me to elaborate. When I don’t, her forehead furrows and she sits back in her chair, looking lost in thought. Finally, she says, “We’ve been friends for years.”
“I know.”
“But there’s been some distance between us lately,” she confesses.
Again, I say, “I know.”
She sighs. “I’m hoping things can go back to normal between us. That’s why I want to have lunch with her.”
I admire her loyalty to her friend. I just wish Ashley was more deserving.
