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“Yeah…me too.” My dream to move back to Tuscany came back to me, and I wasn’t sure how that would ever be possible with Bones. He did his business out of Milan, and being that close to my family would just be dangerous.
Mom pulled away so my father could move in next.
My father gave me the same look every time he saw me, subtle affection mixed with pride. There was love there too, overrun by his other thoughts. “Tesoro.” He wrapped his arms around me and gave me a tight squeeze. “You look nice.”
“Thanks, Father.”
He kissed my forehead before he pulled away. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yep.” I grabbed my purse from the couch and pulled it over my shoulder. “Where are we going?”
We walked outside and headed to the car at the curb.
“Well, we were going to head to your father’s favorite place, but then we got invited over to Alessandro’s place for dinner. We told him we already had plans, but he insisted…” My mother didn’t make eye contact with me, telling me this wasn’t a coincidence.
“Isn’t that Matteo’s father?”
“Yeah…”
Father walked ahead so I narrowed my eyes at her. “Please don’t tell me this was on purpose.”
“It really wasn’t…but I know how it looks. Your father ran into him today, and one thing led to another… I’m not even sure if Matteo will be there.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know how Italian families are. His mother wants him to settle down, like, tomorrow.”
“True,” Mom said. “But I really didn’t do it on purpose. You know your father and I would never pull a stunt like that.”
I believed her. When she first set me up with Matteo, she didn’t pressure me. She just put the idea on the table and let me decide what I wanted to do. Having this dinner made me feel guilty because Bones wouldn’t be happy about it, but I couldn’t tell him because I couldn’t contact him. Unless Matteo wasn’t there, but that was just wishful thinking…
Matteo’s family lived just outside the city in a beautiful home constructed in the typical Mediterranean style. Two stories with lots of olive trees and ivy, it was a beautiful place. The stone walkway reminded me of our home in Tuscany, and the water fountain out front was lightly dripping with water.
We walked inside and were greeted by Alessandro. He shook my father’s hand vigorously then talked a million miles an hour about his excitement for having us over for dinner. His Italian accent was thick and heavy, making his words almost impossible to understand. He kissed my mother on each cheek before he introduced his wife, an Italian woman with beautiful black hair. “This is my wife, Laura. Laura, these are the Barsettis.”
My father kissed her on the cheek, and my mother did the same. When I came up to her next, she smiled wider than she did for anyone else. “Such a beautiful girl.” She hugged me hard, both of her palms hitting my back. “I hear you’re quite the artist.”
From whom? Matteo or my parents? “Yes, it’s my passion.”
“I can tell.” She pointed to the wall where one of my paintings hung. “Beautiful just like you are.”
Reality hit me hard in the chest when I saw that painting. Something I created was actually hanging on someone’s wall, displayed proudly. Not only did someone pay for it, but they thought it was worthy enough to be on the wall of their entryway, so people could see it the second they walked in the door. “Wow…that’s a perfect place for it.” I couldn’t take my eyes off the painting, unable to believe that my dream had really come true. My artwork was on display in someone’s house. They could have put up anything else, but they chose to showcase something I created. It was unbelievable.
Matteo walked into the room when he heard the voices in the entryway. Tall like his father, he wore a black blazer over his black V-neck. His dark blue jeans hung low on his hips and showed his thin and toned legs. He had wide shoulders, and a hint of musculature was visible under his blazer. The hard lines of his face showed his chiseled jaw and masculine features, and his brown eyes looked like two drops of coffee. He moved to my father first and shook his hand. “Nice to see you again, sir.”
I watched my potential suitor shake my father’s hand, and it hurt to know Bones would never do that. Even if he tried, my father wouldn’t reciprocate. Guns would be drawn, and a war would break out.
“You too, Matteo.” My father shook his hand and gave him a slight nod.
Matteo moved to my mother next and kissed her on each cheek. “Mrs. Barsetti, how are you?”
“I’m well, Matteo. Thanks for asking.” She smiled before she drifted away with my father, purposely leaving us alone so we could speak in private.
