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“Just like the blankets and the decorations are for your family too, not me?” I argued back, though I was basically transfixed as she scooped some spaghetti into a bowl and topped it with the sauce from the other pot.
“That’s right,” she said as she set the pasta on the table. “It will give them peace of mind, knowing you aren’t wasting away up here. Now, eat.”
I didn’t want to follow her command any more than I wanted to sit down, but it smelled too damn good not to. I had all sorts of comebacks ready until I took a bite. Instead, I groaned. “Holy fuck, that is good.”
Lea smiled as she joined me at the table. Her teeth were so white, but I didn’t think that was the reason the whole room seemed to glow when she was in it.
“Thanks,” she said. “My nonna taught me to cook.”
“Well, she did a bang-up job, baby girl,” I said through another mouthful of pasta. “This might be the best meal I’ve ever had.”
Lea sat back, looking satisfied. “Don’t get excited. Anyone in this neighborhood could make spaghetti.”
“You don’t sell yourself short.” I glanced between the pot and her empty plate. “You gonna have some?”
She shook her head. “No, I gotta get home and get ready for a party. My friends are coming over at seven.”
“What party is that?” I was barely listening, already halfway done with my plate and thinking about seconds. Probably thirds.
“You’re not going? Matthew said you and Morris Carrera are friends.”
I frowned while I chewed some more spaghetti. Christ, if I kept eating this family’s food, I was going to gain fifty pounds. Not that I was going to stop. It was that damn good.
But it wasn’t quite enough to distract me from the fact that she and her brother had been talking about me. And probably talking about my past. “That was a long time ago. I don’t really party anymore.”
Understatement of the year.
“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to be doing at twenty-one?” Lea wondered.
“Getting drunk with high school students?” I asked, enjoying the way it made her cheeks redden. “Nah, I’ll pass.”
“Morris graduated with you,” she pointed out. “And I’m eighteen. This party is adults-only.”
I chuckled. “Keep telling yourself that, contessa.”
The bright smile on her pretty face told me I’d injected some hope into the situation by teasing her. If I hadn’t known it before, I did now—my boss’s granddaughter had a little crush. Too bad I was the exact wrong person for her to want.
“Morris graduated after I dropped out,” I said as I built another bite. “I couldn’t stay.”
“Why, because you had so many more important things to do?”
I snorted. “Yeah. Like going to jail. Big fuckin’ loser over here, remember?”
That shut her up. In fact, she looked downright mad. For a moment, I thought she might actually leave, but as I focused on my food and not on her reddened cheeks, she said the one thing I was not expecting.
“Sorry. That was a shitty thing to say.”
I put down my fork. “Yeah, it was. But so was throwing my record in your face.”
“I was an idiot. I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll just go.”
Quickly, Lea got up and started for the door, face pinked with embarrassment. The effect was immediate. Almost like I was watching myself do it, I was out of my chair, crossing the room, and had my hand slapped on the door to keep her from leaving.
“It’s fine,” I said over her shoulder. “Don’t go. Stay. Have dinner with me.”
It sounded like a lot more of an invitation than I intended. People our age didn’t go out to dinner. We partied. We hung out. We talked on the phone and flirted on doorsteps. We didn’t sit down like regular-ass adults and treat girls we barely knew, but really fuckin’ liked, to steak or pasta.
But right then, with her flowery scent floating up from her hair and the warmth of her compact body trapped between me and the door, the idea of taking Lea Zola out on the town, where everyone could see her sitting with me, dressed up for me, eating the dinner I bought her…
