The front door of Bellini’s closed softly behind Lorenzo Moretti.
Nobody at our table moved.
A moment earlier, Ethan had been wearing the satisfied expression of a man convinced he had finally humiliated me beyond recovery.
My mother had been laughing.
Chloe had been staring at me as if she couldn’t decide whether I had embarrassed myself or threatened her engagement.
Now Ethan’s face had gone almost white.
Lorenzo crossed the restaurant without hurrying.
That was the first thing people noticed about him.
He never seemed rushed because somehow everyone else adjusted their speed around his.
His charcoal suit was dark against the warm light of the dining room.
Rain shone faintly on his shoulders from the Seattle evening.
He ignored the curious faces turning toward him.
His eyes stayed on me.
He stopped beside my chair and held out his hand.
No introduction.
No explanation.
Just an open palm.
Four days earlier, I had been standing inside his private elevator wondering whether I had just destroyed my career.
Tobias had stared at me after I announced that I wanted Lorenzo to pretend to be my boyfriend.
“You want Mr.
Moretti,” he said slowly, “to attend a family dinner?”
“Yes.”
“As your date.”
“Yes.”
“Because your former fiancé is marrying your sister.”
Hearing the entire disaster summarized in one sentence made me briefly consider pressing the lobby button and disappearing forever.
“Yes.”
Tobias studied me for another second.
Then the elevator opened.
Lorenzo’s office occupied the corner of the hotel’s upper floor.
Glass walls looked over Elliott Bay, though the room itself was surprisingly restrained: dark wood, low lighting, one desk, two chairs, nothing ornamental enough to reveal anything about the man who worked there.
Lorenzo stood beside the window.
He turned as we entered.
“Miss Hayes.”
Of course he remembered my name.
Tobias closed the door behind me.
Lorenzo’s gaze moved over my face.
“You wanted to see me.”
I had rehearsed the speech downstairs.
Every word disappeared.
“My ex-fiancé is marrying my sister.”
Silence.
Not the opening I had planned.
Lorenzo waited.
“I caught them together before our wedding,” I continued.
“My family knows enough to know it hurt me, but they’ve decided the important thing now is that everyone behaves normally.”
His expression didn’t change.
“They’re having an engagement dinner at Bellini’s on Thursday.”
“And you intend to attend.”
“My mother says people will talk if I don’t.”
“What do you say?”
The question caught me off guard.
Nobody in my family had asked that.
“I say I shouldn’t care what people talk about.”
“But you’re going anyway.”
“Yes.”
