Page 8 of Say It Isn't So

Waving my hand from side to side, I smirked. “Today has been my best day yet,” I conceded, even if it was kind of sad.

“It’ll get easier,” she said casually, as if she knew what it was like to be a transplant in the Big Apple.

“Will my feet ever not ache?”

“Give it time,” she said, angling to the elevator. “So listen, I’ve got to get back to work, but take my number and text me. We can set up a time for you to come over, maybe meet my mom at the house. She loves company and she’ll have lots of advice for you. This magazine is her whole world, you know? I know it well enough, but I do ad sales, so I’m not as connected.” Then she pointed a finger and smiled as she added, “Yet.”

I nodded, fingers shaking as I entered her number into my phone. After she rattled it off—not the least bit worried about anyone overhearing, even though she apparently had mini-celeb status—she left without looking back.

As my new friend walked onto the elevator, I sent her a text so she had my number. Then I looked up at all the glass and chrome and wondered who the heck was watching over me, because clearly this was the work of a guardian angel.

And it was so much better than the lead I’d gotten from the guy at the newspaper. In fact, I’d decided to hold off on that lead for a beat while I waited to hear back from Bianca.

You thought I’d hear back from her, right?

Chapter Three

Knox

Just look atthis place, I thought to myself as we walked up to the doors of the Morelli house. Scratch that—mansion. I mean, Rina told me they had a few kids, but I was sure they could’ve been comfortable in a place half the size of this one.

A whistle sounded from my lips in appreciation as I took it all in, like a man would a woman with a nice body. I couldn’t believe anyone called this a house.

Meanwhile, Rina’s attention was on her phone.

Looking over at her to only see the top of her head, I squeezed Rina’s hand to get her attention. Not that her blonde hair wasn’t beautiful, but I did like her for more than her mane. “Rin, are you okay?” I asked, hoping she’d look up from her phone.

She did and put her phone in her purse, letting go of my hand in the process. “Yes, I’m sorry. I was just studying my notes one last time.”

To clue you in, she was talking about the notes she had from her research on the Morellis, especially the matriarch. “Regina Morelli,” I acknowledged, “has two passions in her life:Bellissimaand her family, not exactly in that order. She married the love of her life and boasts about what an honor it is to be a Morelli. New York is one of her favorite places in the states, but Rome is her favorite international city. She lives for fashion weeks and enjoys spa days with her friends and daughters.”

By the time I was done, Rina’s mouth was so agape that a cluster of grapes could fit in there at once. “Did I mention how much I love you?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Not lately.” Then I tapped her nose. “But that’s okay because I already know.”

“Thank you, Knox,” she said, appreciation in her voice.

She didn’t need to thank me, I was her boyfriend. “Hey,” I responded, gripping her chin and focusing on her eyes that seemed to be shining from within. I wished I could say it was for me, but I had a feeling that look had everything to do with the possibility of her dreams coming true. “This means a lot to you, so it means a lot to me, too.”

She waved her hands in between us. “You’re going to make me get all teary-eyed.” She sniffled and put on her game face (think: what a football player looks like before they run out on the field). “Let’s do this!”

I pressed the doorbell just as she finally looked up and around, taking it all in.

“Just look at this house,” she gushed.

What did I say?“You’re telling me.”

The door opened then, and on the other side was none other than Regina Morelli, who apparently opened her own door. Not to sound like a douchebag, but given the obvious wealth of this family, I would’ve bet my last dollar that Regina didn’t lift a finger in her house. Clearly I would’ve lost. Thankfully I wasn’t a betting man. There was no question this was her, though—I could tell from the photos Rina had shown me.

Regina smiled at us. “Hi, you must be Rina,” she said, acknowledging Rina first, then turning to me. “And you must be her boyfriend. I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.”

“Knox Rhodes.”

“Nice to meet you both,” she replied, then stepped aside. “Please, come in.”

Don’t mind if I do.

My gaze roamed the space as we entered. I wondered if they ever thought about opening it up to the public like some other celebrities did and making a pretty penny off entry tickets.

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