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Laz seems to have tuned out, and answers in monosyllables whenever Mom asks him a question.
I focus on counting the number of baby onions in my stew until Mom draws me out of my reverie by repeatedly saying my name.
I glance up. “Sorry, what?”
“I said I have a question for you both.”
My near-empty stomach convulses. For me and Laz? “What question?”
Laz shoots me a glance and I realize how panicked I sound.
“I want to know what you both think of a date I’ve chosen for an event.” Her eyes flash, and there’s an edge to her voice. Like I care about any day of the year apart from the anniversary of my father’s death.
“What event?” Laz asks.
“Our three-month anniversary. I thought we could invite my family. Yours.”
Laz gazes blankly at Mom. “Why?”
“Because it’s our three-month anniversary,” Mom says, louder, as if Laz is deaf or stupid. “We can celebrate, and a family party will remind us of what our duties are.” She glares at him, and my insides shrivel up in horror as I realize what duties she’s talking about. Mom will get Laz’s brothers on his back about him not sleeping with her.
“I’ll ask Fabrizio if he can bring a single man for Mia, seeing as Drago Lastra apparently wasn’t suitable,” Mom says.
Laz’s expression is suddenly murderous. Under the table, I dig my nails into my thigh. How is Mom not picking up on the jealousy that’s suddenly a raging tornado spinning around the room? “Don’t bother, please.”
“I didn’t ask for your permission or your opinion. I only want to know if the twenty-third is suitable because that’s the date I’ve chosen.” Mom turns to Laz. “Well, darling?”
He drags his eyes away from me and back to her. “What?”
“Thedate. It would be wonderful if we had something to announce, but that’s out of my control, apparently,” she mutters.
“Something to announce,” Laz repeats, glancing speculatively at me, and I think he must be considering telling everyone about us.
I can only imagine what mayhem that will cause with all his brothers and my uncles present. There will probably be blood spilled on the dance floor.
He turns to Mom. “The twenty-third? Sure. Can’t wait.”
13
Mia
Rieta stops dead in my bedroom doorway. “Wow, you’re glowing.”
“I know,” I mutter in annoyance, slapping my cheeks and scowling at my reflection in the dresser mirror. “This isterrible.”
It’s the afternoon of Mom’s stupid party, and I’m wearing the oyster chiffon dress Mom picked out for me. I styled my hair plainly and barely applied any makeup. I thought I’d look like shit, considering how badly I’ve been sleeping, but my complexion seems lit from within.
I swish my hair around my face in an unflattering way, but it’s no use. I’m radiant.
Rieta’s mouth twitches. “Been, uh, well satisfied lately?”
I shoot her an annoyed look. “Rieta, please.”
“That’s a yes.”
It sure is a yes. Laz has been finding creative ways and places to get me off. If the man Fabrizio brings as my suitor falls to his knees and begs for my hand in marriage at first sight, it will be all my lover’s fault.
Laz himself appears behind Rieta in a black shirt and black pants. He absolutely refused to wear a suit, but Mom pestered him into a button-down. He looks absolutely delicious.
