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“You love us. It’s normal for a mom who cares about her kids to be overbearing,” I say, trying to soothe her.
She sighs.
“I do love you girls. I just want you to be happy.”
“We’re working on that, Mom. Each of us is just trying to figure out our own version of happiness.”
“And making pizzas is going to make you happy? I thought you loved doing makeup and hair.”
“Makeup and hair is something I’m good at, but I don’t feel fulfilled doing it. Not anymore. It’s not a challenge to me. I love working at Tony’s. Each time I walk through the doors there, I get excited.”
“It’s just pizza . . . ,” she says, sounding confused.
“I know, but it’s also the idea of starting something on my own, doing things my way, and building a business that I’m proud of—one that I’ll be proud to have my name attached to.”
“You have always been determined to make a name for yourself in this world.”
“I get it from you. You taught me to be independent, to go after what I want. To be confident about who I am.”
“I did teach you that, didn’t I?” she mutters, sounding pleased with herself.
I laugh. “Yes, you did.”
“So you’re really going to own a pizzeria in New York?”
“Hopefully . . . ,” I say quietly.
Her expression shifts, and warmth fills her eyes. She rests her hand against my cheek. “I’ve always been proud of you. So has your dad.”
“I know you both have.”
“I love you, honey.”
“I love you, too, Mom,” I whisper back over the lump that has formed in my throat.
She wraps her arms around me again, and her hand smooths its way down my back. Eventually, she leans away to look at my face.
“Now tell me about the guy you’re going out with tonight.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “He’s just a guy.”
“Just a guy?” She narrows her eyes, and I sigh.
“He’s a guy that I have had a stupid crush on forever.”
“Antonio?” she says, sounding excited and surprised.
I realize then just how much I used to share with my mom. Maybe she’s right—maybe I have gotten really good at keeping things to myself.
“Yes.”
“Oh my,” she whispers. Her eyes go to the clock on the wall in the kitchen. “What time is he coming?”
“Seven,” I say, realizing that I now only have a few minutes to finish getting ready before he is supposed to arrive.
“You’re not dressed.”
“I know. I was getting dressed when you showed up.” I wave my hand down my body at my robe.
“Go. Go get dressed. If he shows up, I’ll keep him busy while he waits.”
Oh lord.
“Mom . . .”
“It will be fine. Promise.” She takes a step back, waving off my worried look.
“Mom . . . ,” I repeat.
“Go. Hurry, you don’t have much time. You don’t want to keep him waiting when he gets here.”
“Don’t you need to get back to Dad?” I ask hopefully.
“No, I’m having dinner with Miss Ina tonight at seven. I’m just going downstairs, so I have time to wait for your date to arrive before I head down to meet her.”
I don’t have time to ask her when she and Miss Ina became so close. I know I won’t be able to convince her to leave, so I sigh.
“Fine. I’ll be quick.”
I go into the bedroom and shut the door. I left the outfit for tonight on my bed. Taking off my robe, I put on a pair of sheer black panties and a matching bra, then I grab my high-waisted blue jeans that are so tight I have a hard time getting them on. I pair them with a black long-sleeve, body-hugging top that I tuck into my jeans. I weave a black belt through the belt loops, fastening the fancy designer buckle before I sit on the edge of my bed. I zip on my thigh-high suede boots with the pointy toe and four-inch heels, then grab a long camel-colored sweater. I don’t hear voices in the living room, so I go back into the bathroom to check myself out in the mirror.
I wonder what Antonio will think. I didn’t want to dress up, because he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would take me to a fancy restaurant. I still wanted to look put together and sexy, though.
I do look sexy, with my dark hair down around my shoulders in a mass of stylish waves, my makeup more dramatic than I wear it every day. I did a smoky eye and added false lashes to make my eyes pop even more. I added a light lip, lined and glossy. Nervousness starts to kick in, causing my heart to race. Tonight could either be the beginning of something that could be amazing or the end of my crush on Antonio.
God . . . I’m really hoping for the first.
