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“For you, of course. What is it?”
He stared out at the glistening city as she spoke, his lips drawing down as he nodded to no one in particular. She didn’t need to speak her request: he knew what she wanted him to do, and there wasn’t a single moment of hesitation in Rocco’s mind.
The blonde was forgotten.
“Rocco. What are you doing here?” Dante glared at his cousin with the same angry impatience he’d been feeling since Georgia left.
“We need to talk.”
Dante flinched at the unconscious echoing of Georgia’s words.
“Is it about the Hamptons deal?”
Rocco’s brow furrowed. “No. That’s under control, more or less.”
“Good.” They’d been negotiating to buy seven houses for about three years, all in a row, with the goal of knocking them down and making a luxury strip of shops and restaurants with apartments above. They were in the final stages, but one resident was refusing to budge: an ornery old man who was declining to sell, no matter the price offered.
Everyone had their price though, and Dante had full confidence in Rocco finding it. He was a skilled, if somewhat ruthless, negotiator.
“Are you going to ask me in?”
Dante shrugged. “Do I need to?” He stepped back, gesturing inside. “Since when have you needed an invite?”
It was a beautifully sunny day though, and Rocco squinted. “Actually, let’s go to the pub. I feel like a beer.”
Dante closed his eyes, nodding. “That’s mutual.”
Around the corner and down the street was a quaint little place with a few tables set up outside. They chose one on the edge, beside a huge plant pot overflowing with geraniums. “Portia called me.”
Dante swore under his breath.
“She is seriously starting to annoy me.”
“I know you don’t mean that.”
Dante glared at Rocco. “Actually, I do.”
“She’s looking out for you.”
“Do I seem like someone who needs to be looked out for?”
“Yes.”
Dante’s brows shot up.
“You’ve spent long enough sabotaging your life. We’re all sick of it, frankly. It’s time for an intervention.”
“What the actual hell?”
“Listen to me.” Rocco’s voice took on an edge Dante had rarely heard. “Do you think you were the only one who loved her? Bianca was my best friend. Before you even knew her name, I loved her. I loved her when I was five and when I was ten and every year after that. You think you’re the only one who misses her? Who wishes they could see her again? She is in here,” Rocco pressed his fingers into his chest. “Do you have any goddamned idea how furious she would be with you right now?”
Dante clenched his jaw.
“You’re using her as an excuse—you’re blaming her—for the misery you’ve let your life become. How dare you do that to her? How fucking dare you?”
Dante’s eyes widened and then shut.
“Bianca was a wonderful woman and she loved you with all her goddamned heart. All she ever wanted, from the moment she met you, was for you to be happy. How dare you screw up your life in some messed up homage to her. She’d hate it. She’d hate it. And she’d hate the way you’re acting now.”
