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)
“Father, this is Olivia. The one I told you about.”
“Ah, yes.” He smiles as he shakes my hand. “You are right, Enrico, she looks like an angel.”
I fake a smile. What the hell? He has his priest on speed dial?
“Friday night?” Enrico asks.
“Yes.” The priest bows his head. “Our first meeting will be on Friday night.” He looks over at me. “We will start your communion then, Olivia.”
“Okay.”
“Lovely meeting you.” He disappears from the church, and I look up into Enrico’s proud eyes. He gives me a sexy wink, and I bite my bottom lip to hide my smile.
I think I passed.
Enrico pulls into the parking space and turns the car off. His eyes come to me.
“You’re quiet.”
I clench my hands together on my lap. “I’m okay.” I shrug casually, as if going to Nonna Ferrara’s house with the entire family on a Sunday afternoon is an everyday occurrence. “A little nervous, perhaps.”
He leans over and kisses me. “You’ll be fine.”
“I know.” I drag my hands though my hair. “But, just to warn you, your grandma is probably going to hate me. I’m not much of a cook.”
He gives me a slow, sexy smile.
“What?” I ask, confused by his amusement.
“I beg to differ. You cook very well… just not necessarily food.”
“What have I cooked that isn’t food?”
“My balls. My brain.” He leans in to kiss me again, and his tongue sweeps through my open lips. “My heart.”
I smirk. “Stop being cute.”
“I can’t help it.” His hands rise to fasten the top button of my shirt.
I roll my eyes. Control freak.
He gets out of the car, opens my door, and takes my hand before he leads me up the stairs. The house is a huge mansion, made of marble and sandstone. Guards dressed in black suits are scattered everywhere.
It screams Mafiosi
Hell. I lied before. I’m not a little nervous. I’m fucking terrified.
We walk in through the front door, and Andrea and Matteo are the first people we see.
Andrea’s eyes light up. “Olivia,” he coos as he kisses me on the cheek.
“Hi.”
“You remember Matteo?” Enrico asks.
“Hello.” He smiles as he kisses me, also.
“Hi.”
Their eyes are fixed on me, and then they glance at each other.
What are they thinking?
Francesca walks around the corner. “Olivia.” She smiles and kisses my cheek.
“Hi.”
“Come and meet Nonna,” Enrico says.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Great.” I fake a smile as he leads me through to the back of the house.
Bianca is sitting at the counter with a glass of wine in her hand. She smiles warmly when she sees me. “Ciao, Olivia.”
“Hello.” I smile in return. Good God, this woman freaks me out.
There is a little old lady in the kitchen cooking, and the food smells amazing. The lady turns to look at me.
Enrico presents me to her. “Nonna, this is Olivia.”
She stares at me for what feels like eternity before she finally says, “Ciao, Olivia.”
I shake her hand, and she eyes me suspiciously again.
My nervous gaze travels to Enrico.
“Sii gentile, Nonna,” he says.
Translation: be nice, Grandma.
She rolls her eyes and flicks her tea towel at him. “You come!” she snaps at me.
Huh?
“You come help me.” She gestures to the pot of food.
“Oh.” I nod. “Of course.”
Bianca gives me a sympathetic smile. She takes an apron from the drawer and passes it to me. “Here, Olivia.”
“Thanks.”
She spins me around and helps me put it on.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Enrico says.
I widen my eyes at him. Don’t leave me with them.
He smiles and gives me a wink.
“Sii gentile, Nonna,” he says again before he disappears out to his brothers.
“Today, we make Sunday gravy with sausage and spaghetti,” Nonna announces.
I stare at her for a moment. Did I hear that right?
Huh? Gravy?
Gravy and pasta? The gravy I make is brown and goes with chicken.
Oh, fucking hell.
What next?
Nonna begins to explain what is in the pot in great detail, while I try my hardest to take in her instructions.
She’s firing orders at me, and I’m beginning to realize that this isn’t just a kitchen. This is the army, and Nonna is the drill sergeant.
Francesca comes and stands beside me, and I take her hand in mine. “Don’t leave me here alone with her,” I mouth behind Nonna’s back.
Francesca giggles in response. I glance over to see that Bianca is smirking into her wineglass, too.
I’m glad I’m keeping everyone amused.
“Olivia… concentrate!” Nonna snaps. I step forward and take the spoon.
“Yes, Nonna,” I whisper.
Fuck me, he owes me some good sex for this.
It’s just after 8:00 p.m. when we walk out to the car, hand-in-hand.
We’ve said our goodbyes and are finally alone in the dark
Dinner was a success, and I didn’t poison anyone. Bianca made dessert, and we sat around the table and talked. There was laughter and fun.
It was actually pretty good. I survived.
Enrico opens my door and stares at me. It’s like he has something on his mind.