“And you’re okay with this?” I ask Dante.
He lifts one shoulder. “It was only temporary anyway. The threat is gone, so I don’t see the harm.”
Romeo grips my shoulder as he heads toward the door. “It’s what she wants, big boy. Pick your battles. If you want my advice, grin and bear it. Don’t fuck things up between the two of you before they’ve even started.”
“If I were you, I’d listen to his wise words,” Dante says. “Have you ever heard the expression, happy wife, happy life?”
“She isn’t my wife,” I deadpan.
“Not yet,” Romeo says, pausing in the doorway and smirking. “Take it from us, keep her happy because the alternative ain’t pretty.”
I follow them down the hallway, pondering their words. I’m not opposed to Emily working, if it’s what she wants, but I’ve gotten used to having her around. Long hours mean absence.
My mind is scrambling when we enter the kitchen. We find the women sitting around the dining room table, deep in conversation. Lil’ Peach is perched on Emily’s lap, and Lucia and Arabella are both nursing their own children. The sight squeezes something in my chest.
For someone who fought so much to keep others at bay, I’m now craving that family unit. I want it so badly I can almost taste it.
Dante is the first to approach the table, lifting Caterina, his daughter, into his arms and kissing her cheek. “What’s all this?” he asks his wife as he glances down at the notepad in front of her.
“We’re getting things organised for the church Christmas hampers. Emily’s joining our team, so between the three of us, we’re planning to go bigger and better than last year.”
My eyes dart to Emily. Christmas is six weeks away. Does this mean she’s sticking around? That thought relaxes me somewhat.
Lucia balances her son, Gabe, with one arm while scrolling through her phone with the other. “We’re thinking free rides and showbags for the kids,” she says. “We can set it up on that big vacant block across from the church.”
Dante frowns. “You’ll need council approval for that. And public liability insurance.”
“Then you’d better get onto it, big bro,” she quips. “We don’t have much time.”
I press my lips together to hide a smile when his head jerks back, caught off guard by the order. “Me?” he growls.
Lucia finally looks up from her screen. “Yeah, you. Slip a fat envelope to whoever you need to and make it happen,”she replies, calm as anything. She’s probably the only person who can get away with talking to him like that. “It’s what you do, right?”
“I do more than bribe people, Lucia.”
“Sure,” she says, unfazed. “But it’s hardly new territory for you, so I don’t see the issue.”
Our impromptu breakfast with the Mancini’s turned into lunch as well. I love everything Emily makes for us, but the spread the Rossi sisters offer is something else. Complete overkill, but I’m not complaining.
I’m well and truly stuffed as I exit through the towering wrought iron gates of Mancini estate and pull onto the street.
Emily returning to La Riviera is still forefront in my mind, and I know this is a conversation we need to have now that we’re together.
“You okay?” Emily asks. “You look stressed.”
I pause, giving myself a moment to speak. The old me would rant, rave and want to smash things, but Emily needs the same softness I afford my niece.
“Dante said you’re going back to work at La Riviera,” I say eventually.
“Oh.” She shifts in her seat, a little uncomfortable. “Lucia said she’d talk to him, but I didn’t realise she already had.”
“Is that what you want?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
“I miss working with Massimo, Sonia and some of the others.”
“Fair enough.”
“I’ll still be able to look after Lil’ Peach when I’m not at the restaurant.”
