Page 16 of Boss of the Year

But it was a little painful to see what was possible…and what I had wanted for most of my sad, lonely life, Paris or not.

“See?” Joni gestured at Nathan, who was back to studying the house plans. “Men don’t care about all of that. Daniel will like you for you.”

But I shook my head. It wasn’t the same. “Daniel Lyons did not ask me to this party because he thinks I’m ‘special.’”

“You don’t know that. The guy talked to you on the plane for nine hours. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t like you.”

Part of me wanted to believe her. But the other part of me, the part that remembered that I had spent the majority of that time listening to Daniel talk about himself, remained stubborn. “I didn’t say much. I was so nervous, I mostly asked him questions about himself.”

“Well, then he asked you because you’re hot.” Joni shrugged, like it didn’t make a difference. “Which you are now, you know. The hair, the clothes—it’s all a very Audrey Hepburn-flavored snack. The expensive kind from Dean and Deluca or maybe one of those deluxe pastries from Paris.”

I couldn’t help the way my cheeks heated from her compliments. Given how Joni and I had sniped at each other as teenagers—I’d been called a pathetic drudge as many times as I’d called her a slutty scatterbrain—the praise meant more than she would ever know.

Or maybe she would.

“You’ve changed too, Jo,” I told her honestly. “Thanks for being so kind. You’re a good sister.”

Her cheeks pinked in response. “Well, then. You’ve been gaga over this guy for literally a decade, and I, for one, want to meet him. This is your shot, Mimi. Take it.”

I groaned. “Joni, I just gave you a compliment. But can you please just stop pushing me so hard? I’m not going, and that’s that.”

“Well, you two didn’t waste any time.”

We turned toward the stairs, from which Lea was entering the house.

As the second oldest and default matriarch of the family since our grandmother had moved back to Italy, Lea was the definition of the overbearing older sister. After getting married young, she stayed in the Bronx, had four kids, and harangued and henpecked the rest of us into keeping our family together even after we left the neighborhood one by one.

And now she was alone and hurting.

“What are you fighting about now?” she asked.

“Nothing.” I abandoned the counter to give her a hug. “How did the appraisal go?”

Lea slung a backpack onto the counter and scrubbed a hand over her face. “It was an inspection, actually. And fine. I guess. I don’t know—they don’t say anything to me until tomorrow, when I’ll probably get a laundry list of things to repair. Thanks for taking the kids, Jo.”

Joni hopped down from the counter to rub Lea’s shoulders. “Anytime. You know you don’t have to handle it alone. We’ll help, won’t we, Nathan?”

Nathan looked up like he was brand new to this conversation. “Oh. Yes, of course.”

“Frankie and Matthew already said they would cover any of the repairs you need,” I mentioned. Two of our other siblings had married into some legitimate money recently; Frankie was an actual duchess now.

But it wasn’t the money that was stressing Lea out. Zolas were a proud bunch—none of us wanted to take what we considered hand-outs, even in a time of crisis. Lea, however, was being forced to suck up her pride for the sake of her kids. Her husband, whom she’d met when she was only eighteen, hadn’t had life insurance. The garage was the only thing she could sell to keep her family afloat while she figured out what to do after eleven years of being a housewife.

“Do you want me to see if the Lyonses have any vacancies at Prideview?” I asked. “They’re always looking for new maids. I know it’s not the funnest job in the world, but they do pay well.”

Lea’s face twisted as she shook her head. “I appreciate the thought, but I’d rather poke my eyes out than clean up after some rich assholes. No offense, Nathan. I’m sure your family is lovely.”

He shrugged. “None taken. And they’re not.”

“I have a college degree,” she said. “I haven’t used it for more than a decade, but I did keep the books for a profitable garage. Maybe I can find something as a business manager or an assistant.”

Joni and I traded looks. It wasn’t impossible, but we both knew how hard it would be out there for her to find a job after so long, and on top of that, to find something that would accommodate her family. Lea was scrappy, maybe more thanany of us. But how was she going to take care of four kids on an assistant’s salary?

“Lea,” I tried again, a little more gently. “I’m sure Mattie or Frankie would give you a loan?—”

“I’m not taking their charity.” She shot up, causing her messy bun to bounce on top of her head. “It’s not an option. It’s just…not.”

Nathan, Joni, and I all shared more dubious glances.