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When she got to the Bay Area mansion, she strode along the stone path and mumbled a quick prayer for favor under her breath.
She knocked on the door and waited, turning to look at the well-maintained bushes.
Clary had tried her hand at keeping some house plants. Her parents were gardeners, and she wanted to have something that would remind her of them.
But she couldn’t seem to keep the plants alive. She could whip up dishes, make pasta, and baked bread without a recipe, but she couldn’t figure out how much water a plant needed to survive.
“Food’s ready,” Grandma Moretti said when she opened the door.
“I only have an hour.”
Meals with Grandma Moretti were usually long affairs. Bread, wine, and conversation flowed freely, but not today.
“You can just tell me if you’re moving back here or not.” Grandma Moretti strolled back into the house without turning back to Clary.
Clary didn’t say another word until she was seated at the dining table, across from Grandma Moretti.
“So it’s a no,” Grandma Moretti said. “I’ve already spoken to Edward.”
Clary sighed and pulled the bread basket closer. “So have I.” She drizzled olive oil and balsamic vinegar on it. “I was on the phone with him until I remembered Hugh, whom someone was supposed to take care of.”
Her grandmother took the balsamic vinegar from her and did the same to her slice of bread. “If Seth can’t even turn down one business deal for you, he doesn’t care enough about you.”
“He has his reasons.”
“I don’t care.”
“Seth wants to keep the robotics arm of Movement for Oliver.”
“Don’t you want someone who will make you as the number-one person in their life?” Grandma Moretti poured herself some wine, then moved the bottle toward Clary.
She held her hand up. “I have to go back to work.”
“It’s not like you’ll get drunk.” Grandma Moretti poured some into her glass. “Don’t you want someone who will risk it all for you?”
“I already have that,” Clary said and waited for Grandma Moretti to look at her. “I have you.”
Grandma Moretti rolled her eyes. “Don’t try and—”
“I mean it, Nonna. I know you love me. I know you’d do anything for me, and I know you’re only doing this because you’re worried about me. But … I love him.”
That made her grandmother sigh.
Grandma Moretti took a big gulp of wine. “Of all the people you had to fall in love with, why does it have to be him? I tried to set you up with so many men. All from good families, all—”
“Eolenfeld is a good family—in name. You know just how fantastic they are.”
Grandma Moretti shot her a bored look.
“I’m happy with him.”
“Happy to always be in second place? No …” Grandma Moretti paused. “Fifth place, after all his brothers.”
“They’ve been through a lot.”
“Which is also precisely what I’m worried about.”
“I know. Mr. E told me.” Clary took another slice of bread. “I know about his baggage, and I don’t care.”
