Page 68 of Immoral

Guilt gnaws at me. "I'm sorry I missed it."

"It's okay. It's not your fault you weren't here," she declares.

Her statement should give me some relief, but all I feel is more remorse. Bridget's been through a lot. I'm happy for her and Dante. Missing her engagement party and the dress fitting makes me feel like the worst maid of honor on Earth.

"Yeah, you didn't ask to get auctioned off," Massimo points out.

My stomach flips again. I put my fork down and shift in my seat.

Gianni must sense my discomfort. He slides his arm around my shoulders. "There won't be any more talk of Cara's abduction at this table."

I offer him a tiny smile.

"Why? It's not a secret," Tristano claims.

Gianni's head snaps toward him. He seethes, "Because I said so. Now, change the subject."

Tension fills the air. I refocus on Bridget. "What time will the seamstress be here? Gianni and I are going to my office after breakfast to get my laptop and some other things so I can work from home. I don't have any other plans."

"Not until one. Will you be able to be back by then?" she asks.

"Yes. I can be here."

Her smile grows more prominent. "Great."

"Mom, tell Sean to give me my phone back!" Fiona demands, entering the room with her brother in tow.

"Jeez. When are you going to fight your own battles," he sneers.

"Sean, give your sister her phone back," Bridget orders.

He holds her cell above his head. "This one?"

She jumps to try and take it from him. "Sean! Stop being a jerk! Give me my phone!"

"It's right here. All you have to do is grab it," he taunts.

"Sean!" Bridget warns.

He looks at his mother. "Why don't you ask me why I have it?"

"Shut up!" Fiona cries out, jumping again but isn't able to reach the cell.

"What does that mean?" Bridget asks.

"Sean!" Fiona yells while glaring at him.

Bridget slides her chair back to stand, but Dante rises first. "Sean, give Fiona her phone back."

Sean shakes his head. "You're no fun anymore."

"Give her the phone," Dante repeats.

Sean huffs, handing the phone to Fiona. "Fine. Suit yourself. Don't come to me when you screw up."

"How's she going to screw up?" Bridget inquires.

"Nothing! Sean's being dramatic again," Fiona declares and pulls out her chair. "I'm starving. Mom, is the dress fitting still after school?"

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