“Mr. de Luca requests your presence.” I clench my teeth, annoyance prickling against my skin. “He can’t see me before the wedding. It’s bad luck.” Plus, I don’t want to spend any more time with him than absolutely necessary. “Please, miss. He’s not feeling well and says you’re the only one he’ll speak to.” Sighing, I look at Mamma, who shrugs. “We make our own luck anyway, right?” Kissing me on both cheeks, she slings her purse over her shoulder, heading for the door. “Take care of it, and meet us at the church as soon as possible!” I stare at the staff member’s name tag—Marcelline, it says,
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