MATTEO
“I’m not joking, Sheila. Get out of my room. Now.”
“Don’t be like that.” She stood slowly, the silk robe shifting with her movements.
“I came all this way. Your mother was kind enough to invite me when she heard I was in Europe—”
“My mother doesn’t know better,” I cut her off, my voice ice.
“But you do. I told you at the gala to stay away from me. I meant it.”
“You were upset that night,” she said, taking a step toward me. “I caught you off guard. But Matt, it’s been long enough. Don’t you think we should talk? Really talk?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Isn’t there?” Another step closer. “We have history. A connection. Something that binds us together, whether you want to admit it or not.”
My jaw clenched so hard it hurt. “We have nothing.”
“That’s not true.” Her voi
