Page 24 of Be With Me
If anyone saw us together, it’d be a headline. If anyone found out I was working for him, it’d be a full-blown scandal. Knowing the damage that could do to my dad’s campaign, I wouldn’t risk it.
No, I would fix my business problems on my own. I didn’t need Romolo Ferraro’s help.
I tipped my chin up. “We’re done here.”
He didn't seem disappointed. He simply reached into his jacket pocket and handed me a card. "Call me if you change your mind."
There was no name, only a number. I flipped it over to see the initials R.F.
“I won't change my mind.” When I glanced up, he was already halfway out the door, and if he heard me, he didn't reply.
He stepped outside, his tall frame moving past my window before he disappeared out of sight.
I had no intention of calling him.
But something told me he wasn’t done with me yet.
CHAPTER8
MIA
That evening, I stepped through the doors of the speakeasy, ready to demand answers.
Potions and Co was an old pharmacy turned apothecary-themed drinking haunt. A wall of shelves lined with antique pill bottles and glass apothecary jars doubled as a hidden entrance. I rang the bell and waited until an attendant appeared and invited me inside.
The space beneath the shop felt more like an alchemist’s lab than a bar. A narrow staircase led down to a dimly lit room where candlelight flickered against stone walls. Behind the counter, flasks of green liquid bubbled over burners, while jars filled with dried herbs, mouse tails, and pickled eyeballs sat among the usual liquor bottles. I made a point not to look too closely at those. They made me queasy.
Sitting in the corner booth—the one Nina and I always got whenever we came here—were my friends.
“You made it,” Fabi said, sounding relieved, like she’d been worried I wouldn’t show.
“Of course I made it.” I slid in beside Zo, who’d dyed her hair purple since the last time I’d seen her, and handed Nina my tote so she could put it on the shelf behind her. “But the three of you better start talking.”
Zo reached for the cocktail menu. “Let’s get a round first?—”
I snatched it out of her hands. “No. Answers first. Alcohol later.”
She raised her palms. “Okay, okay. For the record, I told Fabi she needed to fess up to you a while back.”
“Oh yeah? Why’d you go along with it then?” I was coming in hotter than usual, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this angry with them.
Fabi reached across the table, fingers curling around my hand. “Mia, it’s not Zo’s fault. It wasn’t her secret to tell. I feel awful about how I’ve treated you these last few weeks.”
I pulled my hand away and crossed my arms over my chest.
“I didn’t know how to tell you,” Fabi pleaded. “Your dad was on TV talking about how he was going to take down the Ferraros and put them behind bars, and in the meantime, I was picking out the flower arrangements for my wedding to Cosimo. I was scared, Mia. Scared you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me after you found out.”
“So instead, you made it seem like you didn’t want anything to do withme?” My voice rose, incredulous. “Make it make sense, Fabi.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t. I know. I was paralyzed, and I kept kicking the can down the road. I kept thinking, ‘I’ll talk to her next week. No, next week. No, next week.’ And then?—“
“I showed up and forced the conversation.”
Fabi nodded, her eyes glassy. “I’m glad you did. It killed me keeping this from you. I’m so sorry, Mia.”
I shook my head. She sounded genuinely remorseful, but I wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. “I don’t understand why you never told me who you were. We’ve known each other for over a decade. Far longer than my dad’s campaign.”
She grimaced. “It was supposed to be a secret. My brother gave Elena and I a different last name so that no one could trace us back to him. It was about safety, especially while we were living abroad.”
