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Liza didn’t take offense, quite the opposite. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Give me an example of a life-changing event.”
“Those are some of the best parties because they’re unexpected and special. We had a party when Joey announced that he’d landed the hosting gig on ManPower. Then we had one where Elio and Gianna told us they were expecting. We had a huge bash when Uncle Frank and Uncle Renzo started Moretti Brothers Restorations. That party was epic. I was only ten, but Uncle Renzo poured me the tiniest bit of champagne in a real champagne glass, and I remember feeling so grown up. He probably hadn’t given me more than a single sip, but I loved how fizzy it was and how the bubbles went up my nose.”
Matt enjoyed listening to her stories, though it was difficult to hear them without viewing her relatives through the Russo lens. He’d spent most of his childhood listening to his own nonno and father talk trash about Liza’s uncles and grandfathers. Whether the stories he’d been told were true or the exaggerated bitterness of two angry, lonely men, it was still hard to not think of the Morettis as blue-collar buffoons—his father’s favorite description for them.
Liza continued. “I know I shouldn’t say this, but Uncle Renzo was my favorite uncle. He had this larger-than-life personality and booming laugh. He had a way of making me feel like I was the most special person in the world.”
Matt had known her uncle, and therefore knew he had passed away of a heart attack, though he didn’t admit that.
“He’s been gone nearly five years and I miss him every day,” she admitted. “And while it might sound silly, I still pour myself a tiny glass of champagne at every family gathering in his memory.”
“That’s not silly. It’s nice.”
“Yeah, I guess. He died too young. We all miss him. Especially Aunt Berta.”
“She was his wife?”
Liza nodded. “The two of them never had any kids. Around the same time Uncle Renzo passed away, Tony and Rhys bought the building where they currently live and work. So, as part of the renovations, they included an apartment for Aunt Berta on the same floor as the Moretti Brothers Restorations offices. That way she wouldn’t be lonely, and Tony could keep an eye on her. Not that she’s in bad health or anything. It was just…Uncle Renzo’s death hit her hard, and it took her a long time to find her way out of her sadness.”
“That was a thoughtful thing for Tony to do.”
“Careful, Mr. Russo,” Liza teased. “Because I’m not sure if you know it or not, but you just paid Tony a compliment.”
Matt narrowed his eyes, pretending to be annoyed. “My mistake.”
She reached out and smacked his hand playfully.
“Did your aunt keep her half in the company or did Tony and his brothers buy her out?” Matt asked.
“Aunt Berta still owns half. Calls it her nest egg.”
“Pretty nice nest egg,” he mused.
“You’re not kidding,” Liza agreed. “The company is doing amazing. Tony said last year was their best ever financially, and they already have enough projects lined up this year to beat that. Over Christmas, he, Gio, and Luca were talking about plans for expansion. They’re looking to buy another local company, bring it under the Moretti Brothers umbrella. They’re all so talented and smart,” Liza gushed.
Matt wondered what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of such praise. Liza adored her family, proud of them and their accomplishments. Despite Matt working his ass off, doing everything in his power to prove himself to Dad, he couldn’t recall a single time his father had ever given him a simple “good job.”
Mom might have felt pride for him at some point, but Matt couldn’t confirm that. When Dad stepped in to take over the primary parenting role to train his heir, Matt had all but cut her out of his life. By the last few years of her life, they rarely spoke, his father’s demeaning comments about Mom sinking in as deeply as his hatred for the Morettis.
There’d been a time when he’d believed his dad’s lies…believed his mom was stupid and weak, believed the Morettis were white trash.
Matt swallowed hard, refusing to go there. It was hard to remember how susceptible he’d been, how brainwashed. It was why he fought so hard to remain in control now. He would never allow anyone the same power over him that he’d bestowed upon his father.
Time to end this conversation.
Glancing across the table at Liza, he knew the best way to shut down all the shit. “We have several hours before we land in Denver to refuel. Do you want to watch a movie or…”
When Liza’s eyes grew dark, her lids heavy, he knew she’d chosen correctly. Rising from the table, he offered his hand.
Yesterday—their last day in Hawaii—had been one of the best days of Matt’s life. The two of them had slept—he used that word loosely—so late they’d missed breakfast and lunch.
After pulling themselves out of bed, they’d frolicked in the ocean, sunbathed, then done scandalous things in the hot tub on the deck of their suite.
Walking down the aisle of the plane, they entered the bedroom together. Matt closed the door behind him and leaned on it, as Liza sank down on the bed, looking at him.
The past week had been nothing but passionate, frantic, frenetic sex, the two of them all but ripping each other’s clothes off and fucking like it was the last thing they’d ever do.
