Page 79 of Mafia and Gold Digger

“Okay, time to get out of the car,babe,” he announces as he opens the passenger door, waiting for me to get out so that he can get this stupid celebration started. There’s extra emphasis on the last word in his sentence, as if he thinks using a term of endearment is going to fool people into believing that we’re actually a loved-up couple.

I purse my lips as my gaze turns to Saint. “Don’t call mebabe. There’s no one out here to hear you. And when there’s no one around to witness our interactions, then I’d prefer you treat this as a purely business relationship—because that’s what this arrangement clearly is.”

He shrugs with a heavy sigh. “Okay, Emerald Griselda Graziella Gloriana Maria Antonietta Fiorelli, get your ass out the car.Is that better?”

Shooting him a scowl on steroids, I feel the muscles in my jaw tighten.

“You know,” he continues, “with a name like that, it sounds like your mom had grand expectations of what you’d achieve in life.”

“What, you mean like something more than being ashoplifting gold digger?”

He says nothing, merely giving an annoying raise of his dark eyebrow.

Okay, so maybe my mom did go alittleover the top when naming me, but every parent has ambitions for their kid, right? But how the hell does he even know all my middle names? “Let’s just get one thing straight, Valentino. I don’t like the idea of you rifling through the personal details of my life. It feels too much like a robber pawing through my panty drawer.”

“I haven’t had the pleasure of your panty drawer yet,” he responds in his infuriating drawl, “but I’ll add it onto my to do list ASAP.”

I ignore his outstretched hand as I clamber out of his black convertible, and after straightening my outfit and trying to forget that I’m dressed like a goddamn freaking banana, we walk toward the country club’s entrance side by side, Saint slowing his stride down so that I can keep up on my very high heels.

I feel his gaze run from my face, down my body, and all the way down my long legs which are on full show given the indecent length of the dress.

“You look gorgeous,” he tells me, despite the fact that I feel like a custard meringue.

And the low tone of his voice does something funny to my insides, not that I’d ever admit that to him or anyone else.

“Although maybe I shouldn’t say that,” he adds, “because as you say, this is a purelybusinessrelationship. I mean, I wouldn’t want you to interpret my actions asworkplace harassmentor anything like that.”

“Don’t worry. You just carry on saying whatever you like.” I flick my hair over my shoulder. “Because if I don’t like it, I’ll just throat-punch you.”

I know I shouldn’t be so snappy, but my insides are churning, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. Because I just keep getting the really bad feeling that this whole engagement party is going to be a complete disaster…

* * *

I’m standing in the Venetiville Country Club waiting for Saint to bring me another drink when Ronnie comes up to me. “Well, I didn’t ever see you getting together with Saint,” Ronnie muses after congratulating me with a warm hug.

“Yeah, I never saw it coming either,” I manage in response. “So, how are things with you?”

“Fine. Ria and me are trying for a baby. It’ll be nice to have kids, although Ria’s already complaining that I’ll need to earn more to afford the army of nannies she expects.”

I smile at him. For all his failings, I can see him being a good dad.

“I’m glad you and me can still be friends, Em,” he says in a genuine voice.

“Yeah, me too, Ronnie. Whatever happened, it was fate’s way of telling me that we weren’t meant to be. That we were always better off as just friends.” Because although he was truly the worst boyfriend in the whole freaking world, we were best friends before we dated, and it’s good to be friends with him again. He’s always got me, in the same way Jacquetta and Nicki do, and it’s not often a person finds true friendship like that. Ronnie and Ria got married almost immediately after the engagement announcement because of some business deal between their families, and then Ronnie reached out to me afterward and actually apologized. He admitted he was in the wrong and really sorry for how he treated me. I can see now that we weren’t right for each other, and although it really hurt when it happened, his apology helped me get closure over our whole relationship.

“Yeah, friends,” he says. “We should grab a coffee sometime. I’ll call you next week?”

“That’d be nice.”

And then Ronnie gives me another quick grin before taking his leave as he sees Saint approaching.

Saint lasers a glare after Ronnie’s retreating form. “What did Ronnie want?”

“Just offering me his congratulations and saying we should grab a coffee next week.” I look around the room. “Party’s going well.”

“You think?” Saint looks surprised that I’m even interested. But given the amount of champagne I’ve already consumed, I’m feeling a little more mellow than earlier.

We start mingling and find ourselves in the middle of a large group of guests who are all eager to see my fabulous ring.

---