“Why?”
I looked toward the black water beyond the window.
“Because I’ve spent months making myself smaller so Chloe wouldn’t have to feel ashamed of what she did.
I let everyone call it a breakup.
I protected her.
Now they want me to sit across from them and prove I can still make their evening comfortable.”
Lorenzo was quiet.
I forced myself to meet his eyes.
“I don’t want to be comfortable anymore.”
Something shifted in his expression.
Not amusement.
Interest.
“So you came to me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Because you frighten rich men.
Because hotel executives stop talking when you enter elevators.
Because Tobias looks like he could end arguments without raising his voice.
Because Ethan’s confidence had always depended on believing he was the most important man in every room.
I decided there was no point lying.
“Because Ethan needs to meet someone he can’t look down on.”
Tobias made a sound behind me that might have been a cough hiding a laugh.
Lorenzo’s mouth almost moved.
Almost.
“And what precisely would I be pretending to be?” he asked.
“My date.”
“For one dinner.”
“Yes.”
“And what have you told them about me?”
“Nothing.”
“That was wise.”
I hesitated.
“There is one other problem.”
Lorenzo waited.
“I may have been drinking when I first imagined this.”
Tobias looked away.
“And in the imaginary version,” I continued, “I might have described you somewhat dramatically.”
“How dramatically?”
I wanted the floor to open.
“The head of the mafia.”
Tobias actually laughed then.
One short sound.
Lorenzo turned his eyes toward him, and Tobias immediately recovered his stone expression.
Then Lorenzo looked back at me.
“You understand that telling people that could create complications.”
“I haven’t told anyone yet.”
“And you intend to?”
“No.
Absolutely not.
That part was the wine talking.”
For several seconds, he simply watched me.
Then he returned to his desk.
“What time Thursday?”
I blinked.
“Eight.”
“Bellini’s?”
