Today.
And she wrote me a fucking script.
CHAPTER 16
Riggs
Iforce myself to read the rest of the script Lucinda expects me to recite, and I almost gag. It’s full of flowery language I would never use, not to mention it’s a load of crap, expounding on Lucinda’s “sweetness and goodness.”
Stuffing everything back in my pocket, a thought hits me.How did she pay for this ring?I think I know, and when I pull up my banking app, my suspicion is confirmed. I see a charge for almost forty-thousand dollars from a jeweler in Miami.Goddammit.
I march from the room in search of mynot-fiancéewith fire in my every step. The audacity of her, thinking she can dictate when and how I… god, I can’t even think the word. We are nowhere near that point in our relationship. I’m ready to end things, and she’s thinking about marriage? No.
Before I can find Lucinda, I’m waylaid by a ball of pure energy. “Riggsy!” Allegra shrieks, hurtling toward me and jumping. I grab the toddler in mid-air and pull her to my chest, twirling us around. Then I gobble at her face, making her laughuntil she’s holding her stomach and informing me hergigglerhurts.
My angry demeanor softens immediately. Besides being on the water, nothing is more soothing to my soul than a child or a dog. “How are you, kiddo?”
“Good. I go to preschool, and Timmy Noles is a poot-head.”
I laugh and prop the little girl on my hip, listening to her happy chatter. With her dark, wavy hair and big brown eyes, Allegra Romero is simply precious. When she informs me she has to go potty, I drop her off with her dad and resume my search for Lucinda.
I find her in the kitchen with Nana, Silvia, our mothers, and two of Nana’s household staff. After greeting everyone, I’m about to ask Lucinda to step outside with me, when my mother interrupts.
“Riggs, can you carry the turkey to the table?”
“Of course, Mom,” I say, trying to keep the frustration from my voice.
Everyone begins piling into the formal dining room and taking their seats, and I grit my teeth, wanting to set Lucinda straight as soon as possible.How the hell can she think this is okay?
She sits on my right side, and my sister plops down on my left as Dad begins carving the turkey. Our families celebrate Thanksgiving with a mixture of traditional holiday fare and Italian food, including my manicotti.
The mood is jovial, and as it always seems to do, the conversation shifts to the business. My father sits on Mercato’s board of directors, and at one point, he asks Leo when he plans to retire.
“Soon,” he says cryptically, “and then Riggs and Lucinda can take over.”
The table falls silent until Nana speaks up. “You know that’s not how it works, Leo. With each generation, the head of the company switches between the families. My Luca was Mercato’s president until I took over when he died. Then you became president. This generation, it switches back to the Romeros.”
Leo’s sly glance at me grates on my nerves. “But if Lucinda is also a Romero, they can run it together.” His lips curl into a Grinch-like grin, and my stomach curdles at the realization.
This is why she wants to marry me.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you two were thinking about that,” Nana says, shifting her eyes between me and Lucinda as the staff removes our dinner dishes and replaces them with dessert plates. Then her face creases into a tight smile. “I’ll not say no to more great-grandchildren. Allegra is such a blessing to us all.”
Great. Now Nana has her hopes up about marriage and babies. How am I going to break this news to her?
“I’m not having children,” Lucinda announces, and my mother’s mouth drops open. “It makes your body all… blehhhh.”
Nana looks like someone just clipped their toenails at the table, and to break up the uncomfortable silence falling around us, my mother begins dishing up the desserts the staff has brought in. As Mom slides a piece of pecan pie onto my plate, Lucinda nudges me with her knee beneath the table, lifting an eyebrow like she’s waiting on me to get the whole proposal thing started.
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip and she smiles in anticipation as I push back from the table and stand. The ring feels like an anchor in my pocket, threatening to pull me under and drown me. “Excuse me, I need some air,” I say, striding from the room and heading for Nana’s study.
I push open the french doors and inhale, the cool November air stinging my lungs as I step onto the stone patio. My mind is ajumble of thoughts, but I can’t even get my head around this day before my solitude is broken.
“What the hell, Riggs? You’re supposed to be proposing to me right now. You’re fucking it all up.”
Turning to face her, I walk back into the room and narrow my eyes. “I’m not proposing to you, Lucinda. You can’t stuff a ring and a goddamn proposal instruction manual into my pocket and demand I ask you to marry me.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and rolls her eyes. “Fine. I wanted to do it at Thanksgiving so we could have a Christmas-themed engagement party, but I guess you can do it on Christmas Eve.”