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“My friend’s. Hopefully, it’ll pass the code.” I rolled my eyes, even though no one was there to see it.
“Ilya says it’s a precaution. ‘The tension is rising’ is all I got. He couldn’t come, so he ordered my brothers to accompany us. Andrei will probably be busy with arrangements, and Mila’s working, so I guess we’ll be stuck with Maxim and Luka for company.”
I mean, I could think of worse people to be stuck with.
“Let them play guards. You and I will sip mojitos and sunbathe by the pool. Another first of mine: vacation.”
“It’s an honor to witness your firsts,” Alisa said, cringing at her own words.
“That sounded better in my head.”
A laugh escaped me before I remembered to ask. “Is it cool if Enzo, the owner of the house, shows up?”
“Enzo, the dark Italian guy that always surrounds you?”
“That would be him,” I confirmed.
A gasp filled the silence before Alisa breathed out. “Thank God. We needed some eye candy.”
Her reaction caught me off guard. Not because of the wedding, but because she noticed things so quickly and said them outright.
“Really?”
“You can’t blame a girl for some last-minute glances.” That, I couldn’t.
“Look, no touch. I promise.”
“Knock yourself out.”
This version of Alisa was even better. More authentic. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to the day.
***
After a pit stop at a downtown bakery, morning traffic slowed us down on the way to Enzo’s mansion on the east side. The bakery made the best Iris, a Sicilian dessert stuffed with ricotta and sugar. It was Enzo’s favorite, and my way of repaying him.
As my Mercedes G-Wagon pulled up to the gate, a guard recognized the car. Without hesitation, he headed for the trunk and began loading his boss’s luggage, two suitcases guaranteed to be filled with suits. That was on top of the walk-in closet waiting for him at the house, stocked with even more.
Through the lowered window, I watched Enzo nod goodbye to his staff.
“Uber pickup for Lorenzo?” I yelled out. I rarely used his full name.
He glanced at the passenger in the back seat. “I didn’t order a shared ride.”
“Play nice,” I scolded. “This is Alisa, the bride-to-be.”
I made the introduction while reversing out of the driveway.
“I gathered that,” Enzo muttered. They’d been in the same room at parties, but I’d never seen them interact.
Turning his head toward the back seat, I expected a greeting. Instead, a plea slipped out. “Please tell me Maxim isn’t coming.”
“That would be a lie,” Alisa said, unfazed. She was probably used to the effect her family had.
Enzo groaned. “Great.”
“Cheer up. The house is enormous. You might not even meet,” I tried to lighten the situation.
“I highly doubt that. For some reason, her brother can’t seem to shut up around me.”