Diavolo

xii

PRESLEY

        I planned to arrive in New York on Monday but I spent another extra day with Lotus. The whole duration of my stay included my mother bringing up the topic of my weight and how created a meal plan for me herself.

        I knew she was doing this as a way to get me to talk to her but I completely ignored her. I visited the local amusement park with Lotus, sharing a large popcorn and joking about the last few years of our lives.

        I wanted her to come stay with me in New York after high school but I knew my mother needed her. She was getting older and more forgetful and Lotus was the only one who could calm her down at times.

        It was still a bit early on Tuesday morning when I'd landed in the airport. The sun was barely shining in the sky though the forecast predicted it would be sunny today.

        I breathed in the cold, and toxic air of New York, listening to the joyous sound of ambulances and horns blaring which notified me I was back home.

        It was in the middle of December, and the temperature and dropped to a constant thirty degrees each day, and I bundled up.

        Apparently not enough because I couldn't help but shiver to myself when I'd walked out of the airport. I was dressed in dark jeans and a grey tee with a leather jacket zipped and snagged a black puffer jacket.

        Every few seconds I had to constantly shove my hands into my pocket and walk around as a way to keep warm before my Uber arrived.

        Finley texted me last night informing me about our plans to have dinner tonight with the boys at the mansion. My first instinct had been to politely decline because I had a shit ton of work to catch up on because of my long break and Desmond Grant demanded for me to be at work today.

        And then she mentioned it was Silvio's birthday—my hot sexy neighbor—and guilt tripped me by mentioning he never celebrated his birthday. How could I not attend?

        Our relationship was a mess right now but it was his birthday. He'd texted me last night with a short message saying 'I have your package' but I hadn't responded.

        That was it. He didn't ask me if I'd arrived yet even though he said he would see me and for some reason, I'd been looking forward to his text. Asking me when I won't be back.

        I knew it wouldn't happen but it didn't stop me from glancing at my phone every time it pinged.

        I made a quick stop home to shove my suitcase into my bedroom and quickly changed into a professional outfit. At least something Desmond wouldn't complain about. He hated jeans as much as he hated creamer in his coffee. An enormous amount.

        I changed into a white turtleneck with a short leather skirt and covered it up with a grey overcoat. I'd slipped into a pair of my favorite black heels and flew out the door with about fifteen minutes to spare.

        And of course Desmond Grant was right by the elevator as I walked into Grant Corp. We offered each other a little smile and he asked how my visit went.

        Causal chatter floated between us before we arrived at the main floor and he'd given me heaps of research to follow through on.

        And of course he didn't shy from asking me to fetch him his usual coffee order. What an asshole.

         The day only seemed to drag longer and longer with Desmond screaming into my ear and drilling on and on about the importance of verifying your sources. I went to lunch with Clara and Alice, chatting about how my visit went and a little bit about Jax.