“Once again, you're misinterpreting my intentions,” he says with a crooked smile, one that seems to remind me of the consequences of such misunderstandings.
Usually those consequences end with us pressed against a wall together.
“No. I simply want to understand your reasons.”
I avert my gaze and focus on the rippling water stirred by the wind.
“I understand that your mother has some influence, at least when helping your father. You've told me stories. But do you really believe that's enough for me?”
“My mother does far more than that beneath the guise of a socialite.”
“But your father gets the credit.”
“Ambitious, cara mia?”
“Not exactly. If all of us knew how much power your mother truly has, we could accomplish so much more for the Association. We'd be happier. And certainly more
