Page 19 of The Fixer

Fuck. I thought I had time to get used to this situation, but I don’t. My window just evaporated.

“Yes,padrino.”

11

ROSA

It takes me until three in the morning to fall asleep. When I finally drift off, my rest is plagued by terrible dreams, all connected to my upcoming marriage. I show up at the altar, dressed in a beautiful lace wedding gown, and Leo isn‘t there. I show up at the altar, a veil covering my face, and when Leo lifts it and sees me there, he recoils. I show up at the altar, and Leo is there, dressed in a crumpled white shirt and faded jeans. “Your brother is dead,” he says. “Why would I want to marry you now?”

At seven, my mother bangs on my door. “Rosa, wake up. There’s a delivery here for you.”

A delivery? I pull on my pajama bottoms, duck into the bathroom to quickly brush myteeth, and head downstairs. There’s a giant bouquet of roses in a crystal vase on the dining table. These aren’t huge, showy blooms with petals the color of blood. No, these look like wild roses—softer, prettier, and delicately fragrant—in colors that range from the softest blush pink to a brighter magenta hue, and there are dozens of them.Dozens.

My mother comes up next to me. “I counted. He sent you a hundred roses.”

Oh, wow. I bury my nose in them and breathe in their aroma.Nobody has ever given me a vase overflowing with flowers, like a summer garden come to life.

“Last night,” she continues, “I was a little concerned about the age difference between you two, but then this bouquet arrived, and I was reassured. He knows you well, your Leo. You wouldn’t have been happy with a dozen red roses, so instead, he sends you a hundred pink ones.”

I look among the blooms for a note, but there isn’t one. “I’m happy anytime someone sends me flowers,” I tell my mother. I’m trying to play it cool, but there’s a lump in my throat, and it isn’t because I haven’t yet had coffee. “Wereyou concerned? I couldn’t tell. You were so thrilled I’m finally gettingmarried. After all, as you keep telling me, by the time you were my age?—”

“I was married with a child.” My mother lets my mild admonishment glide off her back. “You should hurry on that, by the way,” she says. “Don’t put off having children. You’re young enough, but Leo isn’t.”

I stare at her in astonishment. “M?, I just got engaged. Are you honestly pestering me about kidsalready?” Not that I have any idea how I’m going to produce kids if Leo’s refusing to sleep with me. Also, Future-Rosa’s problem.

My mother has the grace to look a little embarrassed. “It’s a mother’s job to worry,” she responds. “But you’re right. I will not nag you until after the wedding. Don’t wait too long to get married, though. You want tea?”

I takemy roses upstairs while my mother sets the kettle to boil. As I’m doing that, my phone buzzes with a message from Leo.

Have breakfast with me at nine.

He follows that message with the address of a cafe by the beach. I fight the urge to reply with snark and fail miserably.

Yes, my lord and master. I live to obey.

Somehow, principessa, I very much doubt it.

There’s also a message from Valentina, who wants me to call her as soon as I’m awake. My friend is, like me, a night owl. Unlike me, she has a child, which means she’s also forced to wake up early to do parent stuff. As a result, she has the weirdest sleep schedule of anyone I know. She sleeps between two and six in the morning, and then once Angelica has eaten breakfast and is off to school, she goes back to bed for a few more hours.

I call her. She sounds like she’s in the middle of breakfast prep. “Hang on a sec,” she says. “Let me turn the cooking over to Dante.”

“Can he manage?” I quip. Valetina’s husband has many good qualities, but cooking isn’t one of them.

She laughs. “Toast is within his skill set.” She puts me on mute for thirty seconds, and then shereturns. “So. Yesterday was a lot. How are you doing?”

How am I doing? My head is spinning, my sleepless night catching up to me, and the tension of the last twelve hours has given me a headache. “I’m relieved Hugh is going to be alright and so grateful. Thank you for your help.”

“I barely did anything,” she responds. She pauses, and I get the impression she’s choosing her next words carefully. “What did Leo tell you?”

“He wants a marriage in name only. We’ll have to pretend in public, but that’s it.” I pull a rose out of the arrangement and stroke its blush-pink petals. “I can never repay Leo. He didn’t have to get involved, but he did.”

“Did he say why he’s doing it?”

Every word Leo said to me is etched in my memory. “He said he owes you a debt, and this will help pay it off.”

“I love Leo like a brother, but I want to strangle him right now,” Valentina snaps. “There is no debt. There’s never been a debt, and even if there had been one, Leo’s paid it off already. I’ve said this to him a thousand times, and he refuses to listen.” She exhales in a long breath. “Anyway. How are you doing?”

Valentina and I have been friends for half a dozen years now. She knows, more than most, how much I wanted someone to fall madly in love with me. She understands I’m searching for someone who would put me first, no matter what.

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