Page 20 of The Fall of a Promise

“Anya.” Maya elbows me.

“Sorry, I got lost in thought. What did you say?”

“I was saying your man looks like he wants to punish you in all the right ways.” She wags her eyebrows.

“I changed all his passwords and playlists last night to fuck with him.”

It was something I used to do to Dom when we were growing up, and he went absolutely ballistic. I’ll admit it was childish, but my devil side won in a moment of weakness.

“You hacked him? How did you even manage that?”

“I didn’t need to hack anything. I’m his wife. He gave me all his passwords. I was going to change it back before he noticed but then he ambushed me with wine and sex.”

“Solid excuse.” She nods.

“Anyway, I got a funny text from Dante that sex sounds started blasting on Nico’s Bluetooth when they hopped in his car this afternoon.” I laugh.

“Oh, I wish I could’ve seen that. Did you get a chance to talk after he showed up?”

Wincing, I say, “A little. But it didn’t really get us anywhere. And we had another... incident, but I can’t really discuss it right now.” I grimace.

Without even saying it, Maya seems to know it’s time to change the subject.

“Lou McCombs is who I have my eye on. He’s graduated from the program and is now a very successful investor. If I can get him on board, then his lackeys will follow.” Maya eyes the crowd, looking for the man himself.

My eyes wander off to Nico, who’s plastering his best corporate-man smile on, but I can see death in his eyes. He hates these events as much as I do. But he loves his Ma, so that’s why we’re here.

Damn, he looks good in a suit.

We make eye contact before I notice two people standing a few feet away from him.

“Isn’t that his son and wife right there?” I use my champagne glass to point at the McCombs.

“Good eye. Would you mind?”

“Go, I have to make a trip to the ladies’ room.”

“Wish me luck!” Maya says as she straightens her spine.

“Tits up!” I tell her, laughing into my glass.

She winks at myMarvelous Mrs. Maiselreference, and I make my way to the bathroom.

As I’m wrapping up my business, the door opens, and two high-pitched voices that put me in a sour mood follow. Well, one voice in particular.

“Did you see what she was wearing?”

The uppity voice that could only belong to Sophia Willard complains as she pulls out a compact to powder her face.

When news of our engagement got out, Nico had to change his phone number, since blocking her didn’t stop her from trying to contact him. How did this socialite outsmart Nico’s firewalls, the world may never know.

I swear, more women should be FBI agents.

“You mean the navy dress from the Chanel winter collection you’ve been eying and called around for but couldn’t get your hands on?” her friend replies, and I already start to like her.

I note to thank Marcella. Despite everything else, she chose this dress, and it made me feel better she swiped it right out of Sophia’s hands. Something tells me that wasn’t a happy accident. It truly is a stunning piece. From the velvet navy material to the off-the-shoulder sweetheart neckline. The dress was originally floor-length, but I had it taken up to my mid-calf to fit my shorter frame better.

“Ugh, whatever. I’d never seen it in person. ThankGodshe’s wearing it and not me.”

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