Page 60 of Ricardo

Patrick’s eyes move to him.

The sentence is diplomatic.

It is also a line drawn with a knife.

Victoria’s expression does not change, but I know she heard it as well.

I haven't known her very long, but enough to know she doesn't like what she hears.

Suzanne gives a delicate laugh. “That sounds like Julia. She likes to appear independent.”

Appear.

This time, my gaze settles fully on her.

She does not seem to notice. Or perhaps she does, and assumes I will be polite enough to ignore it.

I am polite.

I am not always kind.

“She moved across the country and secured a position in a difficult office,” I say. “I would say she more than appears independent.”

Suzanne looks at me, and for the first time, I see the smallest flicker of surprise.

Patrick smooths it over. “Ricardo is right, of course. Julia has spirit. Always has. Even as a child, once she decided something, convincing her otherwise took an act of Congress.”

“Fortunately,” Mario says, “she is no longer a child.”

The temperature in the little bubble we're in cools.

Not enough to draw attention. No one nearby turns. The orchestra continues its polished little waltz. A server passes with champagne. Across the room, someone laughs too loudly at something a senator says.

Patrick’s smile remains in place. “Of course.”

Suzanne’s gaze slides toward Victoria. “I only mean that this has been a transitional period for her. The move back. The broken engagement. A new job. It is a great deal of change all at once.”

“Some changes can be healthy,” Victoria says.

Suzanne looks at her with a gentleness I distrust on instinct. “At times, yes.”

Patrick chimes in with what he thinks is a charming tone. “At other times, people can be a bit rash. I'm afraid Julia has always been the impulsive type.”

My grip on the glass tightens once.

So there it is.

Mario’s eyes go very still.

He has not heard everything Julia told me. I have not told him. It was not mine to repeat. But Mario knows enough to understand the tone in Patrick’s voice. More than that, he knows men. He knows fathers. He knows ownership when it is dressed as concern.

“Julia seemed clear and decisive when I hired her,” Mario says.

Patrick inclines his head. “I don’t doubt it. She's always been a charmer, our Julia.”

Mario’s smile does not move, but it grows colder by several degrees.

“Do you think me so easily charmed, Patrick?” he says, and the danger in it would be obvious to even the most oblivious now.