Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 73663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“I understand. It’s hard for her, right?”
“New people can be difficult. I’ll introduce you two, I’m just not—” He stops himself. His face twists for a moment, and I can tell this is difficult.
“It’s okay,” I say softly. “When you’re ready.” I can only imagine how hard it must be to watch over his mother like this. My parents are still alive back in New Jersey, and although I don’t see them that often, I’d feel horrible if my mother were sick. I want to say something to help, but I know there’s nothing I can do but follow his rules. Whatever will make him more comfortable.
“Thank you,” he says and seems to soften. “The kitchen staff will make you whatever you want for meals. Tara’s on morning shift from six to noon then Justine takes over from noon to eight. After eight, you’re on your own.”
“Works for me. I’m easy.”
“That’s not the word I’d use.” His lips press together. “You mentioned needing products. Please make a list and I’ll have the house staff get them for you. Whatever you want.”
“No, it’s okay, I can do it myself. Really—”
He holds up a hand. “You are my wife now, or at least you will be very soon. You don’t run your own errands anymore.”
A shiver runs down my spine. Is that excitement? Confusion? I’m not sure how to feel about this. I’ve been independent for a long time and the idea of giving up some autonomy to total strangers is bizarre. Although it’ll be nice letting someone else take on the mental burden for once.
“Thank you,” I say.
“We’ll ride to work together. If for some reason I’m not going into the office, the driver will be waiting for you outside at seven. Is that acceptable?”
“Here I am, thinking I was the one with the overly intense routine.”
He gives me a look. “Any questions?”
“No, sir.” I throw out a mock salute. “Very good, sir.”
He rolls his eyes. “I think I like you better when you’re being meek and quiet.”
“I bet you do.” I walk over and take his arm. I’m trying to be playful in an attempt to take his mind off his mother and ease some of this tension, but touching him like this sends a jolt into my core. His muscular arm flexes in response like he’s feeling the same thing. It’s the spark again, and I wish I could ignore it. “Lead the way, husband.”
His eyes sharpen at that word, husband, and I can tell he likes it.
We take the stairs together. “Meet me at the car,” he says when his phone starts ringing. “I have to take this.”
I leave him in the entryway before wandering toward the smell of coffee. I find the kitchen and a woman that must be Tara: gray hair, stocky, big smile with a gap between her front teeth. “Good morning, Mrs. Rossi,” she says. “What can I get for you?”
“Maddie,” I correct on the verge of panic before getting myself together. I grin weakly. “We’re not officially married yet.”
“Got it. Call me Tara. Want coffee?”
“Please, in a to-go mug if you have one.”
“Cream and sugar?”
“Both. Lots of both.”
She laughs as she gets me set up. “A woman after my own heart. Want something to eat?”
“I’m not big on breakfast, so maybe just a banana?”
“Easy.” She grabs one from a fruit basket and hands it over along with the mug. “Will you want lunch? I’m thinking pear salad, maybe some grilled chicken. I could also do quinoa, poached salmon, and mixed greens if you like.”
“Uh, the second sounds amazing.” I laugh a little, giddy with the thought of having a decent meal for once. “You sure it’s no bother?”
“Not even a little bit. Renzo never wants lunch. I’ll have someone bring it over to the office for you.”
“No, I can’t, that’s too much—”
But she’s already waving me off and getting to work pulling out ingredients. “Better head out before the boss gets annoyed.” She seems happy, whistling to herself, and I’m too uncomfortable to turn back. I hate the idea of someone driving all the way from freaking Manayunk to deliver me food—but that’s part of being the wife of a rich man, isn’t it? The staff is getting paid either way. I just have to make sure I’m not asking them to do anything outside of their normal job descriptions.
I find Renzo standing outside of the car with a frustrated look on his face. “What’s wrong?” I ask, my heart speeding up as I approach.
“That was Rocco Rinaldo. Allegra’s father.” It takes a moment to place the name. His former fiancée, the girl that ran. The smart girl.
“I guess he’s not happy.”
“No, he’s not, and he wants to meet you sooner rather than later. Which means I’m introducing you to the families tomorrow.”
I hug myself and look down at the ground. Tomorrow feels so fast—but it’s only a day earlier, and it isn’t like I’d somehow prepare myself for this meeting one way or the other. I have no clue what to expect from something like this and I have to trust that Renzo can take care of me.