Page 32 of The Marriage Contract

“Rocco, you’re going to arrange security, and you’re going to drive me to the theater. If you insist on creating imaginary obstacles, my fiancé—your employer—will hear about this.” When he opens his mouth, I stampede on, mostly because I feel awkward and want to get this over with. “Perhaps you think Dario will agree with you, but what if you’re wrong? Do you want to be the person who’s ruined the love of his life’s entireday? Well,do you?”

After a pause, he looks down at the ground. He undoubtedly wants to say so much, but his position—and probably Maria’s presence—stops him. “Give me some time to makearrangements,” he says after a pause and then walks toward the house.

Maria walks up to me with a big smile on her face. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

It was, actually, but I don’t say that. She nudges me. “I’ll come with you and see what this acting malarkey is all about. You should savor these little adventures while you can.”

“While I can?”

“A Mafia princess has no business traipsing around on stage or the screen, Elena,” she says as if this is the most obvious thing in the world. “When you become my daughter-in-law, you’ll have to forget this dream.”

This should mean nothing. It’s not like Dario and I will be together anyway. Yet panic tears through me as I process her words. I almost sayif I become your daughter-in-law, but ever since that first dinner, I’ve developed the habit of thinking before I speak.

“When I marry Dario, I won’t be able to act?”

“Has he not informed you of this?”

Since this is all fake, he has no real reason to. “Uh, not in so many words.”

“Most likely, he’s trying to protect your feelings, dear. Let’s enjoy this afternoon. I’d like to see what your passion was before you found my son.”

I should be happy that this is all make-believe, then. Knowing that if I ever were to be with Dario, I’d have to sacrifice themost significant part of my identity hurts. But it’s not real, so it doesn’t matter. Still …

No, there’s nostill. There are nobuts. This entire thing is a transaction, and it’s time I remembered that, even if the flirting is so addictive. Every time he smiles, it feels like a minor victory, and the steaminess in the limo lives rent-free in my head even though it should have been evicted immediately.

I have to remember what this truthfully is.

There’s even more security since Maria is coming with me, but it’s easy to forget that when it’s just Maria and me in the theater. She sits in the front row as though she’s the director, and I’m auditioning for a role.

“What would you like me to perform?” I ask with confidence that I’m not sure I feel.

“We could play a game,” she replies, seeming more excited than usual, carefree. Maybe it’s the fact there are no staff members around. “I could give you a role … and you could give it your best shot?”

Despite everything, I smile. With the rest of the world seeming far away, I can have a little fun before the inevitable end. “Sure. What did you have in mind?”

She taps her finger against her chin. For some reason, it makes me laugh.

“What’s funny?” she snaps.

I look at the floor. “Nothing, Mrs. Moretti.”

“Hey, look at me.”

I look up, shocked at the change in her tone. “I didn’t mean to snap, Elena. Sometimes, I can’t let go of this persona, but we’re just two women here.”

Herpersona. That’s an interesting word for her to use, but I try not to overthink it.

“It was just when you were tapping your chin,” I shrug, “it made me laugh.”

“What, like this?” She does it again in the most over-the-top way, and I giggle. “We are being silly, aren’t we!” She laughs breathlessly. “Let’s imagine you’re a vampire trying to get into my house. You must be invited in. I know, I’m so morbid.”

I grin. “No, that sounds fun. Knock, knock …”

She pretends to open a door. “Oh, yes, hello. I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

I decide to go the naturalistic route. If I was a vampire, there’s no reason I’d have to be all Count Dracula about it. “I’m so sorry to bother you, ma’am, but my car has broken down, and my cell phone is out of battery. Would I be able to use your telephone?”

“Of course.” She pretends to reach into her pocket. “Take my cell.”

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