Becca.
When the wake was finished for the day, I sat in James’s office for a good ten minutes, less interesting to James than a potted plant, as he caught up with Sofia in Italian. With every passing minute, I could feel the little green monster becoming more and more powerful.
Finally, Sofia gave that birdsong laugh of hers again and turned to me. “So, Becca, I hear you graduated from a top-tier university recently. Something to do with statistics or economics, right? And you were working on your masters degree?”
I thought of expanding on that a bit, but I simply shrugged. “Yes, something like that.”
Sofia’s smile slipped a little. “Well, you’ve been so busy with the children, I’m sure you haven’t had a chance to do any internships.”
I remembered New York, then, and the internship I’d had at Neal’s office for a little while before everything went south. It all seemed like a foreign memory now. My stomach twisted. “Not a complete one.”
