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I wondered if my dad would maintain or do away with it altogether. To my surprise, he’d expanded it, and now lusher green and different plants adorned the area.
My mother would have loved it—even with the questionable statues and over-the-top water features. My heart shrinks.She’ll never get to see it.
“Sienna?” Clara calls gently, yanking me back to reality.
Thankfully, she hasn’t mentioned Matteo since that uncomfortable conversation. I take her silence on the subject as a way of knowing I got her off my back—at least when it comes to Matteo. She still wants to be included in the upcoming wedding.
“Smooth,” I say, slapping on a fake smile and moving along.
She smooths her hand over her silky blouse. “Good. Are you planning on a bachelorette party or a bridal shower? I’m sure Giada would love to help you.”
I’ve successfully avoided any contact with Francesco’s sister. She only texted once, saying she was glad we met and to let her know if I needed any help. I’m sure she meant help with organizing things, not help to escape becoming her sister-in-law. Either way, I can’t take any risks. “No.”
Clara lifts an eyebrow. “Don’t you think it’d be appropriate, given you’ll be family soon?”
I come close to a bush filled with red roses and bend a stem enough so I can smell it. The fresh, sweet smell swirls around me, and I caress the petals carefully so as not to pluck any of them. “Since my nuptials aren’t conventional, I’ve opted out of these events. I don’t have many friends, and they are in New York anyway, and I don’t want to make a big fuss,” I say.
My former roommate Lisa called me again, and I chatted with her without telling her I was supposed to get married. Why would I? That’d only worry her, and there was nothing she could do. I let go of the rose and square my shoulders. I’ll miss Lisa and hearing about her hook-ups. But after we leave, I can’t keep in touch with her. I’ll have to kiss my old life goodbye forever.
“Your father could fly your friends in,” Clara says, offering me a small smile.
“Clara… I’ve come to terms with marrying Francesco. It’s fine. But don’t make me act like I’m excited about it because that’d be a lie we’re both too smart to believe.”
“Fair enough. I just want your happiness.” She glances around us as if to make sure no one can listen, then resumes walking through the garden. I follow a step or two behind. “Have you been, hmm, working closely with Matteo?”
There it is.A pang of anxiety chills my bloodstream. I was wrong. Maybe our acting hasn’t been enough to fool her. I look away, catch myself in the act, and stare back at her. “No. We stopped.”
She nods with a neutral expression. “Excellent. Matteo is a good guy. He deserves a good woman. He’s paid his father’s dues.”
Paid his father’s dues? Knots of repulsion twist in my stomach. His father, who was killed? His father had no dues—especially after his death. “He sure has. I hope he’ll find someone who deserves him. Seems he’s a good son too.”
“Yes, dear. But the reason that brings me here is to talk about something else. The Carusos called your father this morning. They’re planning to host a dinner. Since Francesco will come out of prison in a few days, it makes sense for you to spend time with him before the wedding.”
Oh, it makes total sense. I taste bile at the back of my throat but push down the lump. “Great.”
A couple more days and the passports should arrive, according to Matteo. Once we have them, I’ll feel more secure. He’s been shopping the family jewels, as he told me he would before we leave. Stars will hopefully align before it’s too late.
“I strongly believe Matteo shouldn’t be present at this dinner,” she says, clasping her hands together.
“But he’s my bodyguard.”
“I understand. But we don’t want anyone to pick up on the attraction between you two, even if it’s done with. Besides, with his end of employment coming so soon, you don’t want him to get into trouble, do you?”
Apprehension claws at my chest. “No.” So that’s what this is about. She made small talk for a bit, but the real reason she visited me was because she wanted to warn me not to attend this dinner with Matteo in tow. She has a point. “Wouldn’t it be strange, though? Since my father specifically asked him to watch me, and we go to this big event without him?”
“We’ll think of an excuse. Maybe he’s very sick that day, and Vito goes in his place.”
“All right,” I say, looking away. Shit. Convincing Matteo this is a good plan won’t be an easy task. But I guess I see Clara’s point.
I can’t jeopardize our escape plan by making our attraction obvious—a possibility if Matteo sees the man I’m supposed to marry face to face.
The idea of being there without Mateo sets a wild pace in my pulse. I gaslight myself into believing I can do this on my own. I’ve been alone for the last ten years and shouldn’t expect him to be with me every step of the way.
Yes. All will be well.
Just a few more days.
24
