"And that's who he chose to put in charge of the publicity around our engagement?" Are all men that stupid, or just arrogant ones like my fiancé?
"She's always nice to him." Zoey rolls her eyes. "Too nice."
"Okay, so now I know that she's going to do her best to make me look bad. That doesn't change how today is going down."
"I never thought it would," Allessio says, approval tinging his voice. "I assume she didn't forward the press release to you either?"
"She sure didn't."
"I'll send it before we leave campus. But don't think about it or anything but the stuff you need to remember for this last test. I know you studied your ass off for it. Pardon my language."
My smile for Allessio is brilliant.
My phone rings and I'm still smiling when I look down to see it's Miceli.
I'm tempted to ignore the call, but I am not stubborn and immature. Okay, maybe stubborn, but I am not childish. You show me a mob princess who is a child past the age of ten and I'll start believing in miracles.
I tap to accept the call. "You have ten minutes. Talk fast Miceli."
I'm eating lunch so I don't go into my last final on an empty stomach.
"You need to be at the Ritz-Carlton at 1:30. "
The interview is at the Ritz? The hotel where we made l—had sex for the first time? Well, not the exact same one, but the one here in New York.
Whose idea was that?
"I can't. If I'd gotten a heads up, I might have been able to take my final early." That's not a given, but I'm betting Miceli's threat still has some leftover weight to carry. "Giovanna didn't bother to tell me and she implied to Allessio and Zoey that she had, so they didn't either."
"She didn't tell you about the interview? I find that hard to believe. She's one of our best communication specialists."
"Who also wants to be Mrs. De Luca, or so I'm told. I don't know why. So far, the job isn't turning out to be a lot of fun for me."
"Fuck."
"Yeah, no. That's not happening either."
Am I lying to myself? Maybe. Sometimes self-delusion is our only friend.
"Damn it. Róise, I thought you knew. You have a final?"
"Yes. My last final of the year," I say very slowly for the underbosses in the room. "Finishes at 3 PM. If I get done early, I will leave early. If I don't, you will see me when you see me because traffic."
"You get cranky when you have finals, huh?"
As opposed to cranky being the default, like with him? "I have worked really hard to earn straight As since I started college. Except that A- from the professor who doesn't believe in the concept of perfection. I'm never taking another one of his classes, I'll tell you that."
Realizing I'm straying from the subject, I get myself back on track. "I know my degree does not matter to you or my uncle, but it matters to me because it is a gift from my mom and dad. And I will not waste it. So yeah, I'm a little stressed about these finals. There's been a lot going on in my life, which you should know."
Because he's at the center of most of it. I can't believe I word-vomited all that.
"You're going to do great." There's not a hint of humor in Miceli's tone now. "You are fucking smart. I'll see you after your final."
"I need to get my clothes, unless you want me showing up in my sweats and Converse?" Test taking requires comfort.
"The helicopter will be waiting for you at the helipad near your uncle's mansion."
It's a private helipad used only by the estates in our neighborhood. Uncle Brogan would prefer to have his own, but moma won't hear of having half the lawn torn up for it. When he suggested putting one on the roof, she put salt in his bread pudding.