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“If memory serves me correctly, your firm made an exception and hired you despite you going to Yale. All the other attorneys there went to Harvard.”
Massimo strolls over, and I want to sink through the floor. Fucking hell in a hand basket. Wonder-fucking-ful. Wait. He did a background check on me. He already knows where I went. If memory serves him.
“I didn’t want to go to law school with them. I don’t mind running circles around them now.”
I’m digging my own fucking grave, but Massimo doesn’t appear angry. I think he might be a little amused. He looks over his shoulder at Salvatore.
“Big brother, did you know you’re an insufferable twat? I’ve been telling you that for years. Do you believe me now?”
Oh, Jesus Christ. Fuck. Goddamn it. Oh, fucking hell. I’m a lapsed Lutheran. I take the Lord’s name in vain way too often, but that was a double. My grandmothers are rolling in their graves. Fucking full three-sixties.
“If I’m an insufferable twat, then that makes you one too because you’ve always looked up to me, baby brother.”
I’m utterly mortified now. Nicoletta, Sylvia, Paola, and Carlotta are staring at me. Not only did I insult two of their husbands and brothers, they now know I have a foul mouth.
“I’ve been telling you both that since I could talk.”
Domenico joins this little convo, and my humiliation is complete. They might tease one another now, but I started it. Matteo calls out from where he sits next to Maria, who’s trying to shut him up with her hand over his mouth.
“And I only got an MBA from there. I told you I was smarter than either of you. I knew I didn’t want to become an insufferable — Ouch, Mama.”
I watch Carlotta move to stand beside her son, where he sits at the end of the sofa. She put her hand on his shoulder near where it meets his neck. I think she’s pinching him, but I can’t tell for sure.
“When you’re as old and gray as your father, then you can swear because by then you will have found another way to put me in my grave.”
“You called me a silver fox just this morning, Lotta.”
Domenico waggles his eyebrows, and Matteo looks like he’s going to be sick. Domenico shifts his gaze to his son.
“Where do you think you got your charm from? You certainly didn’t find it on your own.”
Maria jumps in at her husband’s expense. “You know you inherited it from your dad, my love. I’ve known you since I was five minutes old. You definitely weren’t born with it.”
Maria gives him a smacking kiss on the cheek. I think I might be in the Twilight Zone. What the ever-loving fuck did I step into? This is the most fucking normal family I’ve ever seen. Except for the part where three of them went to Harvard and two went to Yale. I can only imagine where the others went. There isn’t an ugly or dumb one in the bunch.
Sinead leans over to whisper to me.
“What they do only exists in Salvatore’s office down the hall. Out here, they’re normal family men who tease one another relentlessly. It’s the women who are merciless. You did nothing wrong. Just the opposite. We’ve been worried about you and Enzo. This eased the tension.”
Now, I feel super guilty that they worried about us while I was riding my boyfriend’s dick. I can’t imagine any of them would think it was more than that if they found out. Enzo lets go of my hand, and I dig my nails into the back of his. He shakes free only to slide his arm around my waist. I sag against him, and he kisses my forehead. I want to encircle his waist with both arms, but I don’t dare in front of everyone else. I settle for one around his lower back.
Gabe harrumphs.
“Michelle, I’d still like to hear you explain why I’m right, and she’s wrong.”
He dips his chin toward his wife and smirks.
“Dr. Sabastianson was the hardest because I couldn’t understand a word he said. He always sounded like his false teeth were about to fall out. He never tested on anything out of a textbook, only what he lectured in class. I prayed more that semester than I did all my years of Sunday School.”
“Ha! I told you!”
That came from Sinead, and I didn’t expect it.
“Why are you cheering?”
“I told him that not understanding the man doesn’t count as a hard class. The man may have had a Doctor of Philosophy and a Juris Doctorate, but he wasn’t that hard. All you had to do was copy the notes from the board and piece that together. I don’t remember a thing the man said, but I could read his handwriting. Professor Hughey purposely worded her questions, so there’d be no right answers, but none of the above wasn’t an option.”
Gabriele’s eyes twinkle, and I know he’s about to tease his wife a little more.
