Beg, Borrow, or Steal (When in Rome, #3)(13)

Amelia looks me in the eye and, with the most serious expression I’ve ever seen, says, “I’ll pay you a million dollars for her.” I think she might be serious. Her bank account would be good for it.

I smile at Amelia. “No deal. I love Ducky more than anything in this world.”

“I would say ouch,” says Annie, “but I completely get it. I’m contemplating moving back in just so I can be near her.”

I give her an incredulous look. “You’re going to leave your super sexy boyfriend’s house and move back in with your spinster sister?”

“It’s the only way to this cuteness,” she says primly, snatching Ducky back and snuggling her up in the crook of her neck. We all three look down at the kitten just simply breathing and gaining all of our admiration for it.

But then Annie and Amelia share a glance before their eyes slide to me. “Umm, but really, have you been okay here by yourself?” Annie asks. “I’ll move back if you need me to—cat or no cat.”

Suddenly, this impromptu visit is feeling like an intervention. I expect to look over my shoulder and find a banner that reads ADMIT YOU’RE LONELY, EMILY.

Never. Because I know if I was honest with her, she would leave her wonderful life with Will behind and hop right back into this house with me. It’s not her job to make me happy. She doesn’t need me anymore, and that’s my problem to come to terms with not hers.

“Don’t you dare. I love having this place to myself. It finally stays clean just as I like it.” The coffeepot beeps in the kitchen, giving me something to do to avoid my sisters’ searching gazes. I pull down three mugs and fill them nearly to the top. Making a full pot of coffee each time is a habit I haven’t been able to break since Annie and Madison moved out.

“So . . . not that I don’t love having you two over, but what are you doing here in the middle of the day? Did Will propose again and you accepted this time?” That last question is aimed at Annie.

Annie and Will’s relationship has been the funniest, most unexpected thing in the world to watch. Will was Amelia’s bodyguard when he and Annie first met, and also a notorious playboy. We all thought Annie craved a sweet traditional life. Boy, were we wrong. Will was so gone for Annie almost immediately. She surprised us all when he proposed to her and she turned him down, saying she wanted to date for a while because she was getting to know herself all over again.

I respect the hell out of her.

Anyway, they moved in together and have been happily coupled for the last year. But Will has proposed to Annie no less than three times now (always lighthearted and never pushy; it’s actually become an inside joke between them at this point). The man gets rejected every time with a kiss and a Not yet but ask me again another time, please.

“No—no proposals this month. We’re both here for the hot goss.” She sets a squirming Ducky on the ground and then retrieves her coffee mug, grinning wildly at me over the top of it.

Amelia picks up where Annie left off. “Why didn’t you tell us that your work nemesis is back in town, no longer engaged, and apparently moving in next door?”

I’m actually surprised it took them this long to hear about it. Gossip must have been moving slow through Rome this weekend, given I called Darrell the second I left the coffee shop on Saturday. Two whole days ago.

I shrug and sip my coffee. “I didn’t tell you because it’s not a big deal. There’s nothing to tell.”

Annie scoffs. “You’re getting a new neighbor who you’ve done nothing but fight with since freshman year of college, and there’s nothing to tell?”

I smile . . . deviously. “Nope. Because he’s not going to be my neighbor for long.” I set my coffee on the counter and walk around to the breakfast nook that overlooks my cute little living room. There’s a basket of clean clothes on the table that I’ve been working on folding this morning.

“Wait!” Annie says, following me and setting down her coffee so hard it sloshes over the edge a little. She’s fishing her phone from her back pocket. “Maddie will murder me in cold blood if I don’t have her on the screen for this.” Doubt it.

I fold a dishrag into a neat little square and relocate it to the appropriate pile. “On the phone for what? I’m telling you, there’s no story here.”

“You’re smirking like a devil,” says Amelia. “There’s absolutely a story here, and Maddie will be so sad if she misses out on it.” Yeah right. She probably won’t even answer. Lately it’s been increasingly hard to get Madison on the phone. We plan calls in advance and she texts me and cancels five minutes before, saying something came up. It kills me. We’ve always been close, but ever since she moved to New York, I feel her slipping away.

I give Annie a face that lets her see just exactly how thrilled I am about being the center of this sister chat, though.

I’m both a little shocked and relieved when a second later, my brown-haired, dark-eyed, spunky middle sister, Maddie, is on the screen. I think because we’re so close in age—thirteen months apart—we’ve always been best friends. We’ve fought the most. Grown together the most. And trusted each other the most. Just the sight of her is a balm, but I try not to let on just how much I miss her. Because even though I’m pissed at her for rarely calling or coming home, I also don’t want to guilt her into doing either of those things.