“I know,” she says, already walking away like she has an empire to run and I’m merely the woman who provides snacks.
The second Mr. Moretti laughs softly. “That is a very young grown-up woman.”
“Yeah,” I say with a sigh, watching my daughter march toward the snow cone stand with all the authority of a tiny event coordinator. “Sometimes I’m not sure which one of us is actually in charge.”
The original Mr. Moretti’s mouth curves.
“I have a feeling it’s not always you,bella.”
I glance at him.
There it is again.
Bella.
I should probably correct him…again.
Instead, my traitorous stomach flips like it has absolutely no respect for my dignity.
I guess I’ll have to change my name.
Bella Moore. That doesn’t sound too bad.
“You have a wonderful place here,” the second Moretti says.
“Thank you, Mr. Moretti,” I say with a smile.
“Stefano,” he corrects. “And in case he forgot to tell you, this is Maverick, the head of our family. Although he isn’t opposed to being calledDon, Master, or King.”
“Maverick will do just fine,” the original Mr. Moretti says, glaring at his brother.
Although there’s no real heat behind it.
“Nice to meet you both,” I say. “I’m Mia. Although your brother keeps calling me Bella.”
Stefano chuckles.
“Bellais Italian for beautiful,” Stefano explains with a wicked smile. “Well,bellissimais, butbellais what we use as a term of endearment.”
“Stefano,” Maverick says.
Stefano only grins wider.
“Anyway,” he says, taking a step back, “I’m going to go pet the horses. Nice to meet you,bella.”
Maverick mutters something under his breath in Italian.
I don’t know what it means, but judging by the way Stefano throws his head back and laughs as he walks away, it wasn’t meant to be polite.
“Should I ask for a translation?” I say.
“No,” Maverick answers.
“Was it rude?”
“Very.”
Stefano calls over his shoulder, “He called me a pain in his ass.”
