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I shuddered, shaking my head quickly when Enzo gave me a curious look. He took his seat next to me, tucking himself in. "These are stunning plates," he said. "Are they Filipino?"
"A local artist made them, but she was from Japan and that culture influences her art," she said, a bright smile transforming her face as she sat at one end of the table. Dad took the seat next to Enzo, grinning at Mama's pleased face.
"See, Oscar? Some men can appreciate art."
"Woman, he's just humoring you so you'll like him," Dad laughed. "Like I did with your mother in the beginning. Let's hope he doesn't refer to you as the she-devil as soon as they leave."
"You never called my mother a she-devil," Mama said, her voice trailing off as she thought back.
"Not to your face, maybe," Dad laughed, looking to Oliver for support.
"Gran was slightly insane, Mama," Oliver echoed. "Nobody can blame Dad for calling it like it is."
"Heathens. The lot of you," she scoffed, reaching for a spoon to take a helping of ensalada to start. The others took their own foods as I prepared to tell Enzo what everything was. That task would have been much easier if she hadn't felt the need to make all the food in the kitchen.
"This is sinigang," I said. “It’s a sour soup with vegetables and shrimp.”
"Serve me your favorites," he said. "You can tell me what they are as I eat them."
It sounded easy enough, but.... "There are some things we eat that aren't so typical in American cuisine. I think the most obvious is that we cook with shrimp paste a lot, and I'm not sure if you have any things you wouldn't eat."
"It's fine, Carina. As long as you aren't feeding me human flesh, I think I'll be good," he laughed. Faced with my mother's Filipino foods, the accent of his Italian felt so much more drastic and obvious. Nina sighed across the table, making Ethan glare at her. She quickly averted her gaze to her plate, filling it with steamed rice.
"Where did you two meet, Mahal?" Mama asked, breaking out the rare and affectionate word for love that she called me when she felt like being extra sweet.
"Enzo is good friends with Ivory's husband. We've somehow never met until recently," I admitted, keeping it as vague as possible. I'd never informed my family about the attack in my apartment. I pulled two empty bowls closer, scooping a ladle full of steamed rice and mechado into each for the two of us. “Mechado,” I explained quickly. “Like a braised beef stew.”
"Oh, how lovely!" Mama gushed. "You and Ivory with two friends. That's perfect. The only thing that may have worked out better would be if you were with Matteo's brother so you could be sisters," she gushed, teasing but not realizing how much Enzo protested the idea of me with anyone else.
"Matteo doesn't have a brother, I'm afraid," Enzo said, smiling through his torment.
"And you two are dating now?" Lucas asked, piping up from where he silently glared at Enzo. I narrowed my eyes on him, shaking my head. The damn brat was younger than me, for shit's sake.
"I'm not sure I'd call it dating. Too casual a word for my taste," Enzo admitted. "Your sister should know what her place is in my life since I think I've been very clear. It's up to her if she wants to share that with you."
Dad snorted a laugh, biting his lip as he nodded. "I like him."
"Of course you do. You're both insane," I said, digging into my mechado and savoring the flavor of the tangy tomato sauce and slight sweetness that melded with the rice.
"This is delicious," Enzo agreed as he sampled it.
"Thank you," Mama said, her chest puffing out with her pleasure at being able to feed her family well in a way that was scarce outside of her home.
"Where are you from?" Joy asked, pretending to be casual. Like she and Nina weren't conspiring to learn about his Italian accent the moment he called me Carina.
"Born and raised in Chicago," he said. "My grandparents were Italian immigrants on my mother's side, and they helped her out with us a lot growing up. We all speak fluent Italian, and so do Matteo and most of our friends."
"What does Carina mean?" Wyatt asked, furrowing his little brow as he watched Enzo.
"It means cute," Enzo said. He leaned closer to Wyatt to drop his voice to a whisper. "It's because she's so little, but don't tell her that or she'll kick me. Ow!" Enzo grunted with a laugh as my heel slammed down on his foot.
"I am not little."
"Yeah, okay, Sis. You aren't even five foot tall. I think it's time to let go of the short person complex," Lucas laughed. Sticking my tongue out at him, I glowered and plotted my revenge.
"How did you meet Matteo?" Oliver asked, going right for the throat with his question. My brothers weren't particularly oblivious to Matteo's business, but I didn't think they knew anything beyond suspicions either.
"I manage the security for his businesses. Coordinate his employees and the bouncers at Indulgence and Tease. All around, it's just my job to make sure that those people do their jobs to keep customers safe."
