When It Falls Apart (The D'Angelos, #1)(69)

Instead of a phone call, he sent her a text.

I hope you had a good day.

He looked at his words, thought about how to tell her about Antonia. The last thing he wanted to do was add any stress to Brooke’s week. He knew how important this job was for her. And what could she do for him or Franny anyway other than worry? Once she was home, he knew she’d have advice. Practical advice that he really wanted to hear. Considering he’d already made decisions based on what he thought Brooke would do, he felt she was whispering in his ear. But damn, he wanted to hear her voice and share all of this with her.

If you have time, and things aren’t too crazy, call me.

Luca pressed send and put his phone aside.



Brooke woke to Luca’s text at six in the morning. There was an early team meeting before bringing Downes in.

When she wasn’t actively working, she was thinking about Luca and what was going on at home.

It was stressing her out.

She hated the childish insecurity that hovered around every thought and every hour that he wasn’t actively trying to get ahold of her.

And how was Franny? The girl must be so confused. The more Brooke thought about it, the more it pulled her out of her work, and that wasn’t something she could afford right now.

Brooke walked out of her room and over to Nayla’s for the Zoom call with Portia. En route, she texted Luca. Pivotal meetings this morning. I’ll call this afternoon.

It was the best she could do. She wanted to add “I miss you.” Or “I’m thinking of you.” But felt they were half bullshit. She did miss him but was ticked he hadn’t told her about Antonia more than she missed him. Yes, she was thinking about him . . . about how hurt she was that he was keeping secret something so huge in his life. While both statements were true, they were charged with a whole lot of bullshit.

Forcing a smile, Brooke walked into the morning meeting with the confidence she needed to convince the client that they were the right company to move forward with.

Portia was online within minutes, and the split screen displayed everything they’d put together to make the client happy.

“We have a taste of the high-fashion world Downes desires without making it out of reach for others.”

“That’s a golf course?” Portia asked.

Brooke nodded. “Which is upper middle class, but still reachable.”

“What is this?”

“Downes’s line has enough edge to have a club feel. High-style ‘I want to be seen’ clothing,” Nayla said.

Brooke glanced at Mayson, who rolled his eyes. The idea had been Brooke’s and was coupled with Kayleigh’s image of the club scene. All of which came from Chloe’s thought of the braless blazer. Once that pearl had been placed in their heads, they all brainstormed, and even though Nayla was stuck on red carpets and Hollywood, they decided golf clubs was a better direction. And the women in those clubs weren’t all a size two or less.

Nayla put in her images of runway-ready models. Which they all agreed was the way to play it should Downes decide that the other ideas were not to his liking.

It took a few minutes, but Portia started to nod. “I like it.”

Brooke offered Mayson an under-the-table fist bump.

Portia sat forward. “What’s the next step?”



“Two ravioli al granchio. One gnocchi neri.” Luca called out the order as it came into his hands and moved to complete it even before his last word was uttered. The lunch rush was the busiest of the week. As a rule, he worked nights, but he wanted to keep the evening free for his daughter.

Chloe stood on the waiter’s side between the kitchen and the restaurant. “I need a bruschetta,” she told him.

Normally she’d put it with a written order, but occasionally it was verbal when it was for a table of VIPs or friends.

Luca acknowledged her with a nod, called it out to his team.

“How are you doing?” she asked when there seemed to be a lull.

“The busier I am, the better,” he admitted.

“How is Franny taking it?”

“She’s nervous.”

“We all are,” Chloe told him.

He appreciated that his sister felt the same way.

“And Brooke? Is she okay?”

The bruschetta was handed to him, and he placed it in the window.

“I haven’t told her.”

Chloe reached for the plate and stopped midstream. “Luca.”

“I know. I should have—”

“Brooke and I spoke yesterday. I told her about Antonia. Jesus, what is wrong with you two?”

He stopped in his tracks and stared at his sister. “You what?”

“I assumed you had told her. I mentioned it. Why didn’t you say something to her? Is it a secret?”

Suddenly the seafood ravioli and squid ink gnocchi didn’t matter. “Chloe!”

His sister lowered her voice and leaned in. “Antonia has already been around town. She’s looking for a place to stay. Do you want Brooke to find out about her from the town gossip? Or is there something else going on inside your head?”

“What are you suggesting?”

“I’m suggesting you get your butt on the phone and call your girlfriend.”

Another order came in, and Luca called it out to his staff. “It’s going to have to wait.”