Vee stared at him. Her lips parted. The response she had prepared — whatever it would have been — did not arrive, because her brain had encountered the sentence and was currently conducting a full audit of it to determine whether she had heard it correctly.
"I don't—" She stopped. Started again. "What?"
"You're going to learn to be a Donna," he said. "Even if it kills every value you have."
"What does that mean?" She searched his face. "This Donna you keep saying." It was the second time the word had appeared in their conversation that night. "What does that actually mean, Luca? For me, specifically, what does that mean?"
"You'll see," he said. He turned and threw his shirt back over the chair.
Then he crossed to the bed and dropped onto it. He settled against the headboard. Looked at her.
"Why do you always have to keep things from me?"
