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“Piccolina, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Now there’s an exaggeration if ever there’s been one. His sister is gorgeous. Laura and Christina are beautiful, too.
“I dare you to disagree with me, Chelle.”
Did his voice get huskier? More commanding? My toes curl all over again.
“Thank you.”
We’re staring at one another when the barista announces our drinks are ready. Lorenzo’s out of his seat before I can uncross my legs. I watch him pick up the cups, but he puts them down. He gestures to the guy and says something I can’t hear. The barista hands him a second cup, and I watch him slide one drink into it, making an extra layer. I wait for him to do the same for the other one, but he doesn’t. He carries our chais over and offers me the one with the extra insulation.
“Isn’t yours hot too?”
“It is.”
I wait for him to elaborate, but I get nothing. I watch him take the lid off his after he puts it on the table in front of us. I can feel the heat coming through the two cups. When I put mine down, he reaches for it but catches himself. I reach forward, and he starts to pull back. I cover his hand with mine, and I guide them both back to my cup’s lid. He pulls it off when I let go.
“Thank you for looking out for me.”
My voice is hushed, and I feel — I don’t even know. Tonight is intense.
“Always.”
Just how long is always?
“I know Maria is your sister. Do you have any other siblings?”
I know there are as many Mancinellis as there are Kutsenkos, but I don’t know how everyone is related. I haven’t dared ask since they are not a welcome topic among Laura’s family. She’s going to kill me when she finds out that I had chai with a Mancinelli.
“Yes. Maria is younger than me. It’s Luca, Marco, me, then Maria.”
“And Carmine is your cousin. Who’s the huge guy Maria danced with at Laura’s wedding? He seemed like he’s family, but he doesn’t look like the rest of you.”
“That’s Gabriele. We’re related like twenty generations ago. But his family has always been super close to mine. He’s Carmine’s best friend and has been since they were ten.”
Sounds like trouble. And from what I’ve heard, it is.
“You and Maria’s husband seem really close.”
“We are. He’s Marco’s best friend. He’s two hours younger than my brother. They’ve been inseparable since they were three. He may as well be Marco’s fraternal twin and my third brother.”
“So, there’s you, Luca, Marco, Matteo, Carmine, Gabriele, and Maria? I feel for her.”
“Don’t.”
He chuckles, so there’s no harshness in his response.
“She gives better than she gets. Don’t be fooled by how nice she is. She’s ruthless.”
I don’t know how to take that. I don’t know where to look. The women in Laura’s family don’t get involved in the men’s business. Archaic, but they all appreciate it. For her sake, I do too.
“I don’t mean she’s like — she’s competitive, Chelle. She’s a tomboy through and through. Nothing about six men twice her weight impresses her. She’s undefeated at playing chicken. She can take down Gabriele off Carmine’s shoulders in the water. She has three pots of money when she plays Monopoly. The pile you see. The pile she hides but might draw from. And the pile she doesn’t touch, and you didn’t see her add to. She’s so damn convincing that half the words she uses in Scrabble are probably made up, but none of us can prove it because she claims dictionaries are cheating. That’s the ruthlessness I mean.”
“She sounds perfect.”
I grin and laugh. He narrows his eyes at me, but there’s humor in his expression.
“Does she sound like you?”
