He wasn’t sure why he was so angry but as he, for the hundredth time today, looked at the text message from Delfina Poletti, he was ready to strangle her.
His PA entered the room, “sir, the dress was delivered as instructed and Ms. Poletti signed for the delivery. The car is downstairs. It will take roughly ninety-five minutes with the current traffic to reach her. You’ll need to leave now if you intend to pick her up personally.”
“My mother and sister?”
“Are at the hotel spa getting pampered ahead of the dinner. Reservations are made at the rooftop restaurant of their hotel in a private room for seven-fifteen. It should allow you, barring any delays from Ms. Poletti’s end, to arrive in time.”
“Thank you, Trish. You can go.”
She seemed frozen. “Sir?”
“Take the night off.”
“You do no
