Page 23 of Ricardo

He kisses my cheek. His hand rests briefly on my shoulder. For anyone else, it would look warm.

“You remember Hugh and Bunny.”

“Of course.” I smile and cross to them. “It’s good to see you both.”

Bunny extends a hand. Her rings catch the light before her face does. “Julia, darling, look at you. All grown up and back in Chicago.”

“As of recently, yes.”

“We were so sorry to hear about Connecticut,” Hugh says, with the confidence of a man stepping directly onto a land mine because he mistakenly assumes it won't explode in his face.

My mother’s smile does not move, but I feel her attention sharpen.

“That’s kind of you,” I say.

Kind of. Useless. Inaccurate. Socially acceptable.

Bunny leans forward. “Your mother tells us you’re working now.”

I almost laugh at the word “now.”

“Yes,” I say. “I’m working again.”

“For Conti Enterprises,” Hugh continues.

There is a tiny pause. Bunny’s eyes brighten with the kind of interest people pretend is concern when they really want gossip.

“Conti Enterprises,” he says. “That’s Mario Conti’s company, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting choice,” Bunny says.

My mother gives me a look that asks me to answer this gracefully.

“It’s been a good position so far,” I say.

“What exactly are you doing there?” Hugh asks.

“I’m Mario Conti’s administrative assistant.”

Bunny blinks once. “Administrative assistant?”

There are tones people use when they mean to ask why you have fallen so far.

This is one of them.

“Yes,” I say. “The role is more complex than the title.”

“I’m sure,” Bunny says, though she is clearly not sure of anything except that a woman who once organized seven-figure charity galas should not be answering phones for Mario Conti.

My father takes a sip of Scotch. “Julia is taking some time to decide what comes next.”

That is news to me.

“I’m working,” I say again, keeping my tone even. “That is what comes next.”

My father’s eyes move to mine. Brief warning. Gentle enough for the room. Clear enough for me.