He Chose The One That Got Away So I Left

A sea breeze blew in from the terrace, scattering scraps of paper from the recycling cart. I held down a sheet of wrapping paper and asked the cleaner for another 2 minutes. Nearby, several men in dark suits approached Luca. The fabric bulged slightly at their waists, and before shaking hands, they glanced at one another's bodyguards. "I hear the Rossi family acquired that warehousing company on the east coast. Once you settle the dock deal tonight, no one in Port Alwick will be able to stand in your way." Luca smiled without answering. A silver Rossi family pin gleamed on his chest. 5 years ago, that pin had still belonged to his father. Viola had her arm linked through his, her diamond ring glinting under the lights. Someone raised a glass to her. "Looks like we'll be getting wedding invitations soon?" "As soon as he finds the time." She smiled at Luca. "I've already had my wedding dress altered twice." Luca picked up a glass of wine, avoiding her eyes. "Business first tonight." My hands paused over the paper bag. So they still weren't married. Photos of their engagement had flooded my phone back then. Even the landlord who'd helped me move my luggage had asked why I wasn't the bride. I'd assumed they had children by now. "Ma'am, this cart can't stay here." A floor supervisor stepped into the light and blocked it. He glanced at my apron, then at the paper bags beside me, his tone impatient. "The children's activity is over. Temporary staff need to use the side exit. Tonight's reception area is closed to the public." "I'm not on the staff. Someone accidentally collected my son's craft project." I pointed toward the terrace. "A little blue lighthouse. It was on the table by the railing." The cleaner started to explain, but the supervisor waved her away. "Go to the front desk to report a lost item. Don't dig through this in front of the guests." "I will, but please don't take the cart away yet." He reached for the handle, but someone behind him called, "Ivy?" Luca set down his wineglass, his gaze traveling from my old sneakers to my face. The surprise in his eyes was unmistakable when he recognized me. The supervisor immediately pulled his hand back. "Mr. Rossi, is this lady your guest?" The recycling cart stood between Luca and me. He studied me for a moment, then his tone cooled. "No. She used to attend a school my mother supported." He didn't mention those 3 years.