Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
I look around nervously. “It’s a beautiful home you have.”
“Thank you.”
She’s still wearing her cream silk robe with a matching nightdress. Her long, dark hair is styled like she’s in Hollywood. She looks beautiful. There’s not a hair out of place.
Who looks this good when they wake up?
I nervously drag my hand through my knotted ponytail. God, what must I look like?
I take another sip of my rocket fuel. Jesus Christ. Who drinks this shit for fun?
“I might just put some sugar in it, if that’s okay?” I say nervously.
“Too strong for you?”
“Yes.” I force a smile. “A little.” Too strong for human consumption, actually. This stuff would kill a dog.
Her eyes drop to my engagement ring.
I wait for her to say something. Please say something.
“So, you’re engaged?”
Oh shit. Not what I was hoping to hear. “Yes.”
Her eyes rise and hold mine for an extended time.
I twist my fingers in my lap as I wait for her to elaborate, which she doesn’t.
“You’re unhappy about it?” I ask.
She rolls her lips and looks away from me.
I swallow the nervous lump in my throat.
“As long as Enrico is happy, I am happy.” She eventually sighs.
“But you would rather he was marrying someone else…” Her eyes drop to the kitchen counter. “You want him to marry an Italian?”
“Yes,” she replies with no emotion.
“Me, too.”
She frowns up at me.
“I wish we didn’t fall in love,” I reply sadly. “Because then I wouldn’t have to choose between my family, my country, and the man that I love.”
Her eyes search mine.
“It’s not ideal.” I sip the caffeinated poison. “I know that I have to give everything up to live here if I want to be with Enrico. He’s made it very clear that he will never leave Italy.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
I shrug. “I don’t have a choice.”
We sit in silence for a while before she eventually speaks. “I just wanted my grandchildren to be …”
“Italian?” I answer for her.
She nods sadly.
“Bianca, I know I’m not Italian, and I know I’m not your choice of a daughter-in-law, but, I need you.”
Her eyes hold mine.
“You and Francesca will be the only family I will have. I have to leave mine to become a Ferrara.” Emotion suddenly overwhelms me at the prospect of leaving my family forever, and my eyes fill with tears. “Believe me, I would not choose to leave my country for love, but love chose me, and I have to make the most of it. We can’t live without each other. We tried, and it didn’t work.”
Her shoulders slump. “It’s nothing personal, Olivia.”
“I know. I wouldn’t want my Italian son to marry an Australian who can’t cook either.”
Her mouth falls open in surprise. “You can’t even cook?”
The look of sheer horror on her face makes me smile. “Nope. Not really.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose, and I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing out loud.
“Dear God, Olivia, you will be the very death of me.” She huffs.
“It’s not all bad. I’m willing to learn. I’m learning your language and doing all I can…” I search for the right words. “I’ll do anything to make Enrico happy. I’m trying really hard, but you need to try too. This isn’t ideal, I know that, but we have to make it work between us… for him.”
Her eyes hold mine. “You’re going to be late for work.”
She’s dismissing me. “Oh.” I drag myself off the chair and go to the sink to wash my cup. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“You’re welcome.”
“See you later then.” I sigh sadly.
She stays silent.
I turn and slowly walk toward the door.
“Olivia,” she calls.
I turn back to her.
“Food is the Italian language of love. You will be cooking well for Enrico. My son deserves the best.”
I frown. What’s that supposed to mean?
“Your first cooking lesson is on Sunday with Enrico’s grandmother.”
Hope blooms in my chest, and I smile softly.
“She does not mince her words. Prepare yourself.” She lifts her chin defiantly, her eyes are hard, but I see a glimmer of softness behind them. Something tells me Grandma is going to be a hard cookie to crack, though.
“Thank you, I’ll look forward to it.” I turn and walk out of the kitchen feeling very proud of myself. I feel like jumping and punching the air.
I think I actually did okay.
It’s 4:45 p.m. when my phone rings and I see Rici’s name on the screen.
“Well, hello there,” I answer playfully.
“Hello, Olivia.” His commanding voice echoes down the line.
“I smile broadly, I missed him last night and I can’t wait to see him. “And to what do I owe this pleasure, Mr. Ferrara?” He never calls me this close to home time.
“I’m picking you up today. Catch the lift straight down to the basement parking lot. I’m parked just outside the elevator.”
“How come?” I frown.