Page 53 of Convenient Mafia Vows

Moira agrees to handle the guest list. She asks me who I would like to invite, but with Mason still missing, and my mom in Florida, the only person I can think of is Sienna.

A thought occurs to me. “My friend is an artist. Maybe I could commission her to create some artwork for us. Maybe pictures of me and Caleb in scenes fromThe Great Gatsby.”

“If you think there will be enough time.” Moira peers at me from behind spectacles linked to a fine gold chain around her neck. She is on her tablet preparing the guest list.

“We haven’t set a date for the party yet.”

“The sooner the better, sweetie.” Her voice is all honey and lightness, but I get the first glimpse behind it of a strong woman who has carved out her own niche within this male-dominated mafia family. “I was thinking perhaps the week after next. Unless you have any objections.”

She wants this whole situation over and done with. She has a mafia don in her house and a woman masquerading as her daughter-in-law, not to mention the ripple effect following last night’s shooting incident.

But tears well in my eyes at the thought of walking away from Caleb in two weeks.

I hoped we would have more time together. I hoped, stupidly perhaps, that we could get to know one another, build on the obvious attraction that exists between us. I’d even hoped that Moira might be on my side, but I understand now how wrong I’ve been. Her allegiance is and always will be to her children, and I can’t blame her for that.

“No. No objections,” I mutter.

But I have lost enthusiasm for planning the event.

When Caleb said that I could organize our wedding reception, I’d felt the thrill of opportunity coursing through my veins. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do, ever since I was a little girl creating imaginary parties for my dolls. At high school, I would use the computers to check out celebrity balls, storing the glossyimages inside my head, and tweaking them in the solace of my bedroom at home, adding my own personal touch to décor and themes and colors. Sienna found her creative outlet through watercolors, but I found mine through glitzy imaginary galas.

Now, my first opportunity to plan an event that will be attended by some of the wealthiest people in New York has been tainted by the palpable taste of losing Caleb Murray.

He was never yours to begin with, my stupid brain yells at me.

So, what was last night all about then,my heart murmurs back.

“Why don’t you call your friend now?” Moira suggests.

I know she was kind enough to look after Abigail and welcome me into her home, but now all I can hear is the desperation in her voice to get us out of Caleb’s life so that their world can return to normal.

I take my phone out of my pocket and try Sienna’s number. It rings and rings and then cuts off. Sienna doesn’t like using voicemail, so I wait a few seconds and try again, with the same result.

I type out a message:Hey, Si, give me a call when you get time. It’s regarding wedding plans. That should grab her attention.

“She must be busy,” I say to Moria’s enquiring eyebrow.

Caleb walks in then, and my heart performs a triple-somersault. I wish it wouldn’t. I’m already trying to mentally prepare myself for when this is all over and we’ll never see each other again.

“Ah, there he is.” Moira slides from her chrome bar stool at the kitchen island and kisses Caleb’s cheek. “We’re discussing thewedding reception. The Titan is available two weekends from now.”

She busies herself making coffee, and Caleb’s eyes lock onto mine. An unfathomable expression dances across his features before he rearranges them into a small smile. “How do you feel about that? Will it give you enough time to plan it the way you would like?”

Is that disappointment I can hear in his voice? Or am I just fooling myself that there’s a connection between us? Maybe it was just sex to him. Maybe he makes every woman he fucks feel as special as he made me feel last night.

Sienna is right. I need to stop giving off chilly vibes and live a little; perhaps then I’ll stop falling headfirst for every guy who shows me some attention.Every guy?Who am I kidding? There’s only ever been Danny and Caleb, and I’m acting like a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl all over again.

“It’ll be fine,” I manage when I realize that he’s still waiting for an answer.

I consider telling him that I can’t get hold of Sienna, and I’m not attending my own wedding party without my best friend, but I decide against it. It’s enough that he’s going to give me money to help Sienna, it doesn’t mean that he cares about her.

He nods once. “Mom will help you with the guest list.”

“Already on it, Caleb.” Moira comes back to the island with coffee for her son.

They exchange glances that don’t include me, and I wonder if bringing the reception forward was Caleb’s idea all along.

Caleb sips his coffee and sets the cup down on the island counter. “Is Dragonetti still here, Mom?”

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