Hosting it was considered a huge honor. I’d hoped for a shot at the position, but it’d gone to the wife of a hedge fund tycoon instead.
“Speaking of high society, how’s your new job?” I asked.
Isabella quit the dive bar last week after landing a highly coveted job at the Valhalla Club, a members-only society for the world’s wealthiest and most powerful. My father had been trying to gain admission for years, but the Boston chapter was closed to new applicants, and our family wasn’t connected enough to slip through the back door.
Isabella’s face lit up. “It’s amazing. Higher pay, better benefits, and fewer hours than anything else I’d find in the city. It beats bartending with Creepy Colin breathing all over me by a mile. Maybe I’ll actually have time to finish my book…” She trailed off as she stared over my shoulder. “Um, Viv?”
“Hmm?” I spotted a gold mirror on a nearby table. Buffy’s granddaughter’s party was Beauty and the Beast themed, and while I’d finalized the decor already, I wanted a unique piece to tie everything together.
“You might want to look behind you.” A strange note dampened her voice.
Curiosity kindled as I turned to see what Isabella was staring at. Not much rattled her.
At first, all I saw were passersby holding churros and vendors hawking their wares. Then, I noticed the person standing behind us.
Sandy blond hair. Blue eyes. A once lanky frame that’d filled out with muscle over the years.
My shopping bags thudded to the ground as shock displaced the air in my lungs.
Heath.
“I’m sorry for ambushing you. I was passing by, and I remembered you loved coming here every Saturday.” Heath let out a small laugh. “I guess you still do.”
I returned his smile with a wary one of my own. “Old habits die hard.”
After I’d gotten over my shock and Isabella had excused herself to “nap and write,” Heath and I had left the market to grab coffee at a tiny outdoor cafe down the street.
There were no other customers, so it was just us talking over cappuccinos like two years hadn’t passed since we last saw each other.
It was surreal.
“Are you here on vacation?” I asked.
Heath had randomly sent me a photo of the pumpkin hot chocolate at Bonnie Sue’s the other day, so I knew he was in town. It was the first text he’d sent since I told him I was engaged.
He hadn’t mentioned the engagement, and I hadn’t made plans to see him.
“Work. I have a meeting with investors on Monday and figured I’d fly in early to enjoy the city. It’s been a while.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I would’ve called you but…”
“You don’t have to explain.”
Today was an anomaly. We normally didn’t tell each other when we were in town or catch up over drinks. We didn’t have that type of relationship anymore.
“Right.” Heath cleared his throat. “You look good, Viv. Really good.”
My face softened. “So do you.”
The Heath I’d dated had been a poster boy for New England prep. The one sitting in front of me looked like he belonged on the poster for a California surfer movie. Tanner, healthier, more muscled.
I’d often wondered what would happen if I ran into Heath again. I’d expected to feel sadness, regret, and maybe longing. We’d been friends and dated for years; feelings didn’t disappear just because people parted ways.
They did, however, dull with time, because all I felt right now was the cold breeze on my skin and a strange unease in the pit of my stomach.
“How’s the IPO prep going?” I asked for lack of anything better to say.
We used to talk about everything under the sun. Now, we were more hesitant than strangers forced to share a table at an overly crowded restaurant.
“It’s great. Stressful, but we’re making good progress.” Company IPOs, or initial public offerings, required extensive preparation, so Heath was probably getting only a few hours of sleep a night until his was done. “How’s, uh, event planning?”
“Good. I hired someone to run our social media a few months ago, so we’re up to a team of four.”
“Good.”
We had to stop using the word good.
The uncomfortable silence expanded.
Heath and I stared awkwardly at each other for another minute before his gaze dropped to my engagement ring.
A storm of emotions clouded his eyes, and I resisted the urge to pull my hand off the table and into my lap.
“You weren’t joking about the engagement.”
A pang hit my chest at his first direct acknowledgment of my new relationship status.
“I wouldn’t joke about something like that,” I said softly.
“I know. I just thought…” He tipped his head back and blew out a long breath. “When’s the wedding?”
“Next year. Early August.” I rubbed a nervous thumb over my ring. It was cold and hard to the touch.
“At the Russos’ estate in Lake Como?”
He must’ve looked up the news after I told him.
“Yes.”
“You and Dante Russo. Your parents must be thrilled.” Heath met my eyes again with a sardonic smile. “What’s he worth? Like a billion dollars?”
Two.
“Something like that.”
“How’d you two meet?”
“At an event,” I replied vaguely. I didn’t want to lie to Heath, but I didn’t want to tell him it was an arranged marriage either. My parents’ approval was a sore subject for both of us.
Unfortunately, he knew me well enough to pick up on the nuances of my non-answer.
His eyes narrowed. The unease in my stomach swirled faster as realization dawned slow and horrified across his face.
“Wait. Are you marrying him because you want to or because your parents want you to?”
I shifted in my seat, suddenly wishing I’d skipped the market today.
I didn’t answer, but my silence told him all he needed to know.
“Dammit, Viv.” Frustration seeped into his voice. “I knew you’d never willingly choose someone like Dante. I looked him up after your text. All those rumors about him and what he’s like…no amount of money in the world is worth it. What the hell were your parents thinking? Besides the fact he’s a billionaire.” An uncharacteristically bitter edge poisoned his words.
“He’s not that bad,” I said, strangely defensive of Dante even though he’d been a jerk during ninety percent of our interactions.
But…the kiss. The breakfast. The story of the Moondust Diner.
They were small things in the grand scheme of our relationship, but they gave me hope.
Dante Russo had a human side. He just didn’t show it often.
“That’s what he wants you to think. Even if he isn’t as bad as the rumors say, do you want to be married to someone who’s already married to his work?”
My mind flashed to Dante’s month-long trip to Europe.
I rubbed my ring again, my insides twisted with frustration. I felt like a bird trapped in a cage of circumstances beyond my control, unable to do anything except sing and look pretty.