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“Obviously.”
“I know a great place then, I’ll call and make us a reservation.”
It’s in Geneva and far away from the prying eyes in Aubonne. Guilt eats at me that this is another thing I’m keeping from Nera, but I’m in too deep right now.
“I can’t believe you’re here, Tessticles,” I say, locking her head in my elbow and ruffling her hair.
“What did I tell you about that nickname?’ She mutters, throwing an illegal elbow move straight at my ribs.
I groan and bend at the waist, the breath exhaling sharply from my lungs. But a smile stretches across my face.
It’s good to be reunited with my sister.
???
A couple of hours later, I’m pulling her chair out atTartucci’s, my favorite Italian spot in Geneva. I sit opposite her and pour us both some wine as I tell her about my new job with Luca.
The three-week intensive I did over the holidays was critical in developing my skills. In that time period alone, I’ve seen noticeable improvements in my knife skills, the creativity of my recipes, and my plating of final dishes.
Tess is thrilled to hear I’ve been able to pursue that in parallel with fulfilling our father’s mandated prison term. She, more than anyone except Nera, understands just how important cooking is to me.
When I finish telling her, there’s a lull in our conversation as we dig into our entrées.
“So, the million-dollar question,” she says, spreading her hands. “How’s celibacy going?”
I throw her a veiled look, picking up my glass and taking a sip instead of answering.
She shakes her head, looking down at her plate.
“Tristan…”
“It’s not what you think.”
She gives me a dubious look. “Isn’t it?”
“No.”
Something about the tone of my voice when I deny it catches her attention. She looks up into my eyes, picking me apart to see if I’m lying. Satisfied that I’m not, she sits back into her chair, hands falling on her lap as her brows raise in surprise.
“Really? This one’s special?”
“Yeah.”
Fuck, it feels good to finally admit a sliver of my feelings for Nera to someone.
Tess leans forward, eyes sparkling with excitement, and rests her chin on her palm. “Tell me about her.”
So, I do. I tell her how we met, omitting the more salacious details, and how I found out her real identity. She blanches when I reveal she’s my student but she turns downright gray when I confess Nera doesn’t know about my real identity.
“Tristan, what are you doing? If you care about her, you have to tell her the truth! This is going to blow up in your face sooner or later and you’re really going to hurt her. You’re going to hurtyourselfwhen she never speaks to you again after she finds out.”
“I can’t, Tess. Not yet. She’s only barely started opening up to me and trusting me. She’ll slam that door closed and never trust me again if I tell her now.”
“Trustmewhen I tell you, she needs to learn about this from you. No matter how mad she’ll be, it’ll pale in comparison to how furious she’ll be if she finds out from someone else. Take it from someone who would light you on literal fire if you did this to me.”
I’m deep in thought as we wrap up dinner. She pays the bill and we’re heading outside when I realize I haven’t asked her a single question about her or mum.
“How have you been? And how’s Mum? Has dad been leaving her alone?”
