“Yeah. Jazz and Imani were making up, and Miranda was in her room talking to Oscar, so . . .” She raised her eyebrows as she took a bite.
I bit back a smile. “I think Sarah is out cold after all that sun, and Ashley’s doing a little shopping. So, it’s just the two of us.”
Adriana gazed out at the ocean as she took the last bite of her strawberry. “I need to talk to you about something.”
“Okay?”
“I’m worried about Marco.” She picked at her nail. “I didn’t want to tell anyone about this until I knew more, but with Luca not trusting him, I need to tell at least you.”
I covered her hand with mine. “What’s going on?”
“My mom’s sick.”
“What?”
“She has breast cancer.” My heart stuttered, but I didn’t interrupt. “Our trip to Chicago was because Marco demanded she see a specialist there, and, of course, she wouldn’t go unless we dragged her there. After my trip to the hospital, he’s been making trips with Dante and me up there. That’s where Marco’s been—at my mom’s house in Chicago.”
My gut twisted. “Why wouldn’t you just tell Luca?”
She shook her head, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “After the fire and everything else going on, I didn’t want to put yet another burden on his shoulders. Then Chicago happened, and I was scared, and the lie just came out.”
“Oh, honey.”
“I know! And now Luca is watching Marco like he’s an opp. I messed up.”
I nodded, looping my arm through hers while staring out at the surf. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, or I will be. She’s started treatment, so now we wait.”
“If you need anything, I’m here.”
“I know.”
Adriana laid her head on my shoulder, and we watched the people running on the beach. I was scared but relieved to have proof that Marco wasn’t a backstabbing asshole.
* * *
Glammed up and ready to enjoy our last night in Mexico, we strutted into the burlesque club, already tipsy. Gio and Tommy handled our covers and ushered us in, scanning the crowd.
“There’s our table!” Ashley yelled over the house music. We bobbed and weaved around the small tables and laughing people. Ashley pulled out a chair in the middle of the table and bowed. “You sit here.”
“Why, thank you.”
She shared a smile with Sarah, and out of nowhere, a glittering crown materialized in front of me. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I picked it up and was shocked by its weight. “Am I supposed to wear this?”
“Well, yeah,” Sarah said as she inspected the bottles of champagne chilling in the buckets on the table.
“Put on the damn crown, Sasha.” Jazz took the bottle from Sarah and started pouring glasses of bubbly for everyone.
“Fine.” I rolled my eyes but set the sparkling monstrosity on my head.
Imani grinned at me. “I knew it would look great on you.”
I fingered the largest gemstone and begrudgingly accepted the crown, if only for sweet, cornball Imani. Fluttering my eyelashes, I sweetly said, “You have impeccable taste.”
Imani preened, and Jazz gave me an approving nod over her shoulder. If Jazz had her way, Imani would walk through life in bubble wrap.
“For our pregnant friend, sparkling grape juice.” Miranda handed a smiling Sarah a champagne flute.