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"What do you mean?" I mumbled, snapping out of my trance and forcing a bite of fried chicken into my mouth.
"You seemed fine about the robbery, my little warrior," he teased, reaching over and pinching my cheeks. I stuck my tongue out at him. "So why are you so in your head now?"
I sighed, dropping the chicken to my plate and biting the corner of my mouth while I contemplated what story I could tell my parents about Matteo. There was no way I'd ever admit I'd gone there, especially because a criminal had known him. "I talked to Matteo," I said vaguely.
My mother stilled, and I glanced at my father to watch his brow furrow. I was under no illusion that he didn't know what Matteo I meant, so I knew his next question was his attempt to give me time to rethink the course of our conversation. "Matteo who?"
"You know, Matteo Bellandi. From high school." I shrugged, as if discussing the boy who'd made me cry myself to sleep for weeks could ever be a casual occurrence.
"And where did you see him?" Mom asked, she forked some greens into her mouth, chewing as if she found them distasteful, but there was no doubting the fact that it was Matteo she found disgusting.
"I didn't," I lied. "See him, I mean. He saw me on the news and reached out to see if I was all right or if there was anything he could do. That's all." My eyes glanced at mom's curtains on the big picture window behind her, seeing that the rods needed dusting. "If you need me to come over and help with the housework, I can do that. I know you have trouble reaching some high places." I changed the subject deftly, knowing mom would bristle at the insinuation that she couldn't clean her damn house herself.
She started to do just that, but Dad's deadly serious voice interrupted her. "I do not think so, young lady. You are not changing the conversation like it doesn't matter that piece of shit somehow got your phone number. You're getting a new one. End of story." He stabbed a piece of macaroni and cheese, shoving it into his mouth angrily.
"What good would that do? With the assets the Bellandi's have access to, he could just find that number if he wanted it," I pointed out. Whether Matteo had my number yet was irrelevant. I'd known for twelve years that he could find me if he'd wanted.
He just hadn't wanted to.
"Ivory—"
"Besides, do you realize what a hassle it would be to change my number? I run my business through it." I shrugged, ignoring his pointed glare.
I sent mom a pleading look, that she took with a sigh and directed my father's attention elsewhere with the promise of further gossip about work. I tuned in better, feeling his eyes on me too attentively for my taste several times throughout dinner.
But we survived without mentioning Matteo again, and when I went home after dinner that night, I was even more determined to make sure I never had to tell them anything about him again.
It was better that way for everyone.
Especially me.
???
My white dress with big tropical coral flowers floated around me with the breeze, and I thanked the heavy cardigan I wore for keeping it down. As a rule, floaty skirts were dangerous in the windy city, but that never stopped me.
Sadie said I had an aversion to pants. I couldn't argue against it. I wore them only when it was necessary to fight off the cold, which was why I wore a dress despite the chill to the Spring air.
I hurried into the restaurant, not even surprised when I found Duke and his family alr
eady sitting and waiting for me. I'd changed my clothes last minute after spilling my pet leopard gecko Smaug's water bowl all over myself like a complete idiot, and me running late following some random catastrophe wasn't as rare as it should have been.
Duke turned to face the door, his down-turned blue eyes meeting mine as he shook his head and a smile played at his mouth. I shrugged with a grin of my own, hurrying over and taking the empty seat next to him. Leaning in, I placed a kiss on his cheek and smiled at his mom and brother.
His mother returned the smile, her eyes warming as she looked at the two of us. She'd made no secret of hoping the two of us would end up together one day, and I knew she analyzed every move we made around one another to notice any subtle difference. If we'd ever crossed that line, she'd know before we told her. That much was obvious, since the woman missed nothing where her sons were concerned.
"Hey, Gendry," I murmured.
"What? No kiss for me?" Duke's older brother chuckled, and I narrowed my eyes at him in a glare.
"Why don't you kiss my a—"
"Okay! So good to see you, Ivory, my dear. Should we remember we are in a restaurant and have a nice brunch, without the lot of you bickering like you're still children?" Amelia cut me off. When she turned her face back to the menu in her hands, I stuck my tongue out at Gendry. "I saw that," she drawled, her lips quirking up even though her eyes never left her menu.
Creepy.
"How do you do that?" Duke mused, opening the menu that sat on the table in front of me. I ignored the hint, not even glancing at the menu. Asshole just had to make fun of me every Thursday when we met for brunch.
"It's a mom thing. You'll understand one day, Ivory," she said pointedly, and I snorted water back into my glass. Because I was a lady like that.
