Sincerely, Your Inconvenient Wife (The Harder They Fall, #2)(17)

“I chose a husband who would benefit this family and our company, Luca. I didn’t go out cavorting, getting my picture taken snorting cocaine off random whores’ breasts in nightclubs.”

I held my hands up. “That has never happened. Is that what you imagine I do?”

She groaned under her breath. “Whether you’ve done it or not, it’s perception. You often do get photographed stumbling out of nightclubs with different women on your arm. The public—our shareholders—fill in the blanks on what you’re doing inside those clubs.”

Before I could launch my rebuttal, Clara yelped, her hands flying to her belly. I scooted to the edge of my chair in alarm.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, her mouth tight. “The baby’s swimming. She must like your voice.”

In an instant, I was on my knees in front of her. She took my hand, guiding it to the side of her belly. My niece instantly let her presence be known, fluttering against my palm with all her might.

“That’s crazy,” I uttered.

“I know,” she whispered. “Sometimes she gets hiccups, and it blows my mind to think there’s a tiny person inside me hiccuping.”

I met my sister’s soft gaze. “You really think she likes my voice?”

“She might. She got lively while we were talking.”

Leaning closer, I had a chat with my niece. “Hi, bella. It’s Uncle Luca. I’m fucking dying to meet you.”

Clara kicked me in the knee. “Don’t curse at the baby.”

“Shit.” I winced when she kicked me again. “Sorry, bambina. Uncle Luca’s going to work on that before you’re born. We’re going to have so much fun. Your mom and dad are nice, and they’re going to love you like mad, but I’ll be the one to teach you all the wild things they won’t let you do. It’ll be our little secret. You and me, kid.”

Clara shoved my forehead, knocking me back on my knees. “You will not corrupt my daughter.”

I held up my thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “Just a little?”

She bit down on her bottom lip to hold back her grin. “No, Luca. By the time she’s here, you’ll be reformed anyway.”

“I agree to clean up my image, but you’ll never force me to be Miller.”

She rolled her eyes. “No one wants you to be Miller. Be yourself, just…a quieter version with a beautiful, respectable wife on your arm. Is that so awful?”

“It wouldn’t be if it were my decision.”

She patted my shoulder. “I get it, but we all have to make sacrifices. Besides, this could be the best thing that ever happened to you.”

When she finally left, with a reminder to look over the list of acceptable women she was going to send me, I sank down in my chair and rubbed my right eyebrow.

This was part of my job, and the pressure was on me to excel at it. Not just from board members and shareholders but from the greater Rossi family, most of whom made their living from the company.

There was nothing like knowing almost my entire extended family’s wealth depended on the job I did in a position I did not want.

Want it or not, it was mine.

An email came in from Clara. Her list. The idea of shopping for a wife in this manner turned my stomach. My sister was one of my closest friends, but we were vastly different people. There was absolutely no way any of the women she deemed acceptable would interest me.

I opened her email anyway.

Sometimes sacrifices had to be made.





Chapter Eight





Saoirse





Although I’d recently turned twenty-seven and had been living on my own since I’d left for college, my mother treated me like an incapable child. It was only bearable because she was states away and too busy to pry into my life on a daily basis.

But when she found the opportunity, whew, did she dig in.

She’d booked a phone call with me during my lunch hour. Being written into my mother’s calendar wasn’t unusual and had stopped bothering me a decade ago.

She was who she was, and I strove to be the polar opposite—which was why I was sitting on the patio of a café, picking at my sandwich, responding to her questions in the manner I knew would satisfy her. That was the easiest way to handle my mother.

“How is Elise?” she asked.

“Really great. She loves her job at Andes, and of course, I don’t know how I survived without her in Denver all these years.”

My mother huffed. I could practically hear her indignation through the phone. “It isn’t as if you’ve been in Denver all this time. You were traveling more than you were home.”

“You know me. If I’m in one place too long, I get antsy.”

“All fine and good, Saoirse, but you’re getting too old to play the part of a hostel-staying, broke backpacker. It isn’t cute anymore.”

I rolled my eyes. My mother had no idea where I stayed when I traveled or what I did. She had an image in her mind, and she couldn’t let go of it.

“I don’t have any travel plans right now,” I told her, which was strictly true. But I wasn’t much of a planner, so that didn’t mean I wouldn’t be traveling in the near future.

“Good. Then you should be looking for a permanent position. With your experience, there isn’t a reason to continue temping. It’s beneath you, but aside from that, you’re taking positions from people who truly need them. I know that isn’t something you would willingly do.”