Page 102 of A Vow So Soulless

“It’s been a couple of weeks since then. And her papà didn’t exactly sound like he was going to fuck around much. I wouldn’t be surprised if he got her on a plane that night.”

Deirdre blows out a breath through tight lips that makes me think she’s trying not to cry.

“We always promised that we’d be each other’s maids of honour,” she says quietly.

“You’ll have Valentina,” I tell her, “and Lucia and Giulia if you want.”

“Yeah… I guess…” She gives me a guarded look.

“What is it?”

“If I… If I had another friend I wanted to invite… Could she come to the wedding? Or even be a bridesmaid? There’s no way Willow will be there. I know that. But it would be so nice to have somebody else I know there.”

“You know me.”

“Of course I do. For better or worse,” she adds, but she smiles softly while she says it.

“Who did you want to invite?”

“One of the girls I go to school with. Annabelle Choi.”

“I’ll have Enzo take a harder look at her. If he clears her, then sure.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” I say. “Why are you always so surprised when I allow you shit like that?”

She snorts and takes another sip of wine.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” she asks with a throaty laugh.

Before I can reply, the maître d’ and servers start bringing over desserts, sweeping away the other empty plates.

“More food? I can’t eat a single bite!” Deirdre exclaims, throwing up her hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Bring her some Amaro,” I say to the servers. One of them returns swiftly with the amber liquid in a tulip-shaped crystal glass.

“What’s Amaro?” she asks, taking the glass and peering at it suspiciously.

“It is an Italian digestif, Mrs. Titone,” the maître d’ replies. “It is bitter-sweet and infused with various aromatic herbs. It helps settle the stomach after a large meal.”

“Well, I definitely need that,” Deirdre laughs. She takes a small sip, then makes a sound of pleasure and takes another, larger one.

“Good?” I ask her.

“Very! It’s like port or icewine or something, but not as sweet.”

“Glad you like it. Now eat your dessert.”

She laughs again, but makes an effort to try everything they’ve brought out. Bites of goldenberry-topped cheesecake, crème brulée sprinkled with candied orange, and dark chocolate mousse with a shiny apricot syrup glaze.

“OK, now I’m seriously done,” she says, collapsing back against her chair. “I feel like I’m about to go into a food coma.”

“Don’t go comatose on me yet,” I tell her, rising from the table and offering her my hand. “We have one more stop tonight.”

“Where?” she asks, taking my hand letting me haul her upright. She wobbles a little bit, and I steady her, drawing her against my chest for a scorching moment that makes me want to say fuck the rest of the night, I’m taking her home now.

“You’ll see,” I murmur into her fragrant hair.

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