Chapter Four
Dominic
“I don’t get it. You leave my lunch on your doorstep? What did I ever do to deserve such treatment?” Marco, one of my younger brothers, strolled into my place holding a paper bag— my paper bag that was just delivered to my doorstep according to my phone’s app.
I swallowed my last sip of orange juice and peered over the top of the glass, watching him.
He gave me a head nod in greeting and placed the bag on the kitchen counter.
“That’s not for you. It’s for Maria,” I said, finally acknowledging his statement.
Marco opened the bag and stuck his head in, inhaling the aroma in a loud, obnoxious way that only he would do. Then he sighed as though an elephant was sitting on his chest. If he didn’t already have a place at my family’s company making and selling caskets, I would have insisted he get an agent and audition to be an actor.
“Is she here?” he asked, sounding incredulous and looking around.
“No, it’s not like that.” I swatted his hand away. “And, again, not yours for the taking,” I said, this time giving him a pointed look before heading over to the sink and placing the empty glass in it.
“Fine.” He narrowed his eyes and gave me a look like he was pacifying me. “So, what’s with the lunch for her?”
Looking up, I sighed. “I’m going into the city, so I figured I’d bring Maria lunch from her favorite deli.”
“What’s in the city?” he asked, looking like he was holding back on saying more. His lips twitched, and his brows raised, intrigue coloring his expression.
Let’s be honest, it didn’t take much for him to become intrigued. Anything that had to do with Maria and catching me in some nefarious act with her was a highlight for him—and my family on a whole, but we were just talking about Marco right now. His brows waggled slightly, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at how expressive he was. Frankly, it was one of his fatal flaws because it gave him away every time.
“Central Park,” I answered as blandly as possible.
“No shit.”
I exhaled. Clearly, I wasn’t going to get away with not elaborating. “I’m spending the day with Isabella and figured we could go to the park.”
He narrowed his eyes. “No school?”
“Not today,” I answered and crossed my arms. “So why are you here again?”
“We’ll get to that, but first tell me, where are your balls?”
I rolled my eyes and clenched my hands on either side of me on the counter. I knew what this was all about—the same thing it was always about. “It’s a friendly gesture.” No other explanation was needed. Friends did things for friends all the time. I did something for Maria, though, and it was like alert the presses . No, it was more like do we hear wedding bells ?
“Sure, sure,” he replied, snickering as though he was in on some big secret. He wasn’t, by the way. He was just my ridiculously arrogant kid brother. He sat on one of the barstools, placed a hand under his chin, and batted his lashes like a pretty girl. His voice even went high-pitched and feminine as he said, “Oh, Dom.”
I flipped him the bird. “You’re an idiot.”
“You, big bro, might be the only idiot around,” he said, growing serious. “Come on, you’re not fooling anyone. Deny it all you want, but you love her. You always fucking have. You’re as subtle as a sledgehammer.”
I brushed him off, not interested in hearing him give me shit. I placed my forefinger to my thumb and moved my wrist. “Hey, didn’t Dad ever teach you not to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong?”
“Yeah, he told me it’d get brown if I put it up someone’s ass.” Wise guy. “What the hell is the matter with you anyway? When are you going to grow a pair and tell Maria you love her? You waiting for her to meet someone? Because she will.”
How profound. Wow, thank you, Marco. I had no idea she was a catch and would eventually meet someone. They’d fall in love, get married, have kids, and I’d be out. In more ways than one.
Damn Marco and his idiot babble. Why in the world was I listening to him again? Yeah, no clue. “What is with you ribbing me about this?” I finally questioned, cocking a brow.
“Ribbing you?” He furrowed his brows and gave me a disgusted look, his hand on his chin. “What are you, like, seventy? Who says that shit?”
I ran a hand down my face and blew outward. “Is there a reason you stopped by, or is it just my lucky day that I got a visit from my knucklehead brother?”
He harrumphed and got up, strumming his fingers on the counter before knocking on it. Then he started walking backward to the front door. Leaving so soon? “No real reason. Except I need you to get me on the VIP list of one of those fancy schmancy fashion shows you work.”
And there it was—the reason he stopped by. I cocked a brow and crossed my arms, nudging my chin toward him as I leaned against the stove. “Who’s the woman?”
“Does there have to be a chick involved for me to ask you a favor?”
“Yes,” I replied, perhaps a little too fast. “You know, one of these days you’re going to have to grow up.”
He shrugged and moved his head back and forth as though he was considering my words. That would be a first. “My age is sort of the problem, so I wouldn’t be opposed to growing up faster.”
I scratched my chin. “What does that mean?”
“It means I need you to do this favor for me and not ask questions, okay?”
“Fine. Consider it done. I’ll text you the details.”
* * *
“Uncle Dom?” Isabella asked, pulling on my hand as we walked into the elevator, and I pressed the button to Maria’s floor in the Bellissima offices.
“Yeah, Peanut?” I let go of her hand since no one else was in the elevator with us and leaned against the railing in the back, watching as she spun around to face me.
She played with the bottom of her pink skirt, letting it breeze this way and that way. This was her favorite skirt, and I’d seen it more times than I could count. When Maria had first gotten it for her, Isabella had refused to take it off for a week, wanting to do everything in it—including sleep. Finally, Isabella had taken it off and let Maria wash it.
Isabella swayed her head back and forth, her head of brown curls moving every which way, and gave me a full-on smile. “I made you and Mommy friendship bracelets.” She pulled her princess backpack to the front of her, unzipped a pocket, and took out two woven bracelets.
“They’re beautiful,” I said, reaching out to take the blue and black one she was handing me. “I’m guessing the pink and orange is for Mommy?”
She shook her head, looking extremely confused as to why I’d think that. “Nooo,” she insisted. “Those are my favorite colors, Uncle Dom. That one’s mine. This one is for Mommy,” she explained, holding up a pink and brown one.
I nodded. “Of course. That makes more sense.” I showed her my wrist that I put the bracelet on and asked, “Good?”
“Good,” she agreed, smiling again. “Now we just have to give Mommy hers.”
I placed a hand on her back as she fixed the backpack on herself and the elevator doors opened, letting us out on Maria’s floor. “She’s going to feel very special. Lunch and a bracelet.”
She turned around and looked at me over her shoulder as I continued guiding her through the building. “Can I give it to her?”
I looked at her big, brown, doe eyes and grinned. Perhaps I was biased, but I always thought she was the cutest kid. “You want to give her lunch to her?”
She nodded profusely. “Mmhmm.”
“All right,” I said, handing her the bag, which she took without a second thought. “It’s all yours.”
With her usual, happy-go-lucky attitude, she practically skipped the rest of the way to Maria’s office. I stopped at her assistant’s desk first, and she told us to go right in, that Maria didn’t have a meeting to get to for another half hour. “Thank you,” I told Daphne, as Isabella didn’t hesitate, only made a beeline straight to her office and knocked on the glass.
I stood behind her, holding back laughter, as Maria peered up. As soon as she caught sight of us—particularly, Isabella—her face lit up. She got up so fast, her chair swiveled in her absence, and she opened the door for us. “What are you guys doing here?” she asked, bending down and giving Isabella a kiss on the forehead.
“We brought you lunch,” Isabella replied, passing her the bag, “and a friendship bracelet.”
Maria took both, walking over to her desk and putting the bag down, and wrapping the bracelet around her wrist. “Thank you, that was very sweet. And this bracelet is so pretty. I feel like a princess.”
Isabella rocked on the balls of her feet. “Uncle Dom has one, too, so now we all have them. That means we’ll be friends forever. At least, that’s what Chloe says.”
I shrugged when Maria glanced at me. “Just so you know,” Maria said, tapping the tip of Isabella’s nose, “with or without these bracelets, we would have been friends forever anyway.”
“Exactly.” I backed Maria on this one. “Your mom’s never made me a bracelet and we’ve been friends for a very long time.”
Maria snorted and placed a hand on her hip. “Nice,” she murmured as she moved around and stood beside me while Isabella walked behind Maria’s desk. Clearly, Isabella was over the friendship bracelet conversation.
Isabella tossed her backpack on the floor and hopped into Maria’s chair, spinning in it and yelling, “Look, Mommy!”
“I see,” she responded, the corners of her lips turning up.
“I’ve been thinking,” Isabella started, sounding precocious for her age, “and I think I’m going to be a model and work at Bellissima . I want to be like both of you.”
I raked a hand through my hair. “Are you sure you don’t want to be a dancer?” There were many things Isabella wanted to be, but one thing that had never changed was that she wanted to be a model like me. She’d been saying it for as far back as I could remember. She’d even shadowed me going into hair and makeup one day, wanting to know more about what I did for work. I loved this little girl as though she were my own.
She pursed her lips and shook her head. “No. Maybe I’ll do that, too.”
Maria and I laughed. “You can do anything you want, sweetheart. The world is your oyster,” Maria encouraged her.
“What does that mean?” Isabella asked, scrunching her nose up.
I chuckled. “It means you can do anything you want to do.” Hopefully that made more sense to her.
It must have, because she nodded and jumped off the chair, coming to stand next to us. “Uncle Dom is taking me to Central Park.”
Maria smiled and bent down, getting on her knees as best as she could in the high as fuck heels she was wearing. “Make sure he takes you on the merry-go-round,” she told her, fussing with her shirt, making sure it was tucked in nicely in the skirt. “Okay?”
Isabella perked up, her eyes widening as she turned to me and confessed something that didn’t really need confessing, “I love the merry-go-round.”
“I know,” I said, ruffling Isabella’s hair, something I also knew about her—she disliked it when people messed with her hair. “You think I didn’t know that? Huh? Huh?”
With a scowl on her face, she fixed her hair.
“I can help,” I said and put my hands in her hair again, but really only to ruffle her hair again. I couldn’t help myself, she was just too damn adorable.
Isabella whined, “Mommy.”
Maria gave me a you’re-bad look, and I pulled on the back of my neck. “Come here,” she said, her arms out. Isabella turned around and backed up into Maria’s hands.
When Maria was done, she patted Isabella on the butt and sent her back my way. “Next time he bugs you, take away his bracelet,” Maria told her and winked at me. “Have fun today.”
“I will,” Isabella assured her, blowing her a kiss and skipping to the door.
“Thanks,” Maria said silently to me, and I read her lips.
I replied, “You’re welcome,” and she nodded.
“You coming, Uncle Dom?” Isabella called after me.
Geez, she was almost as bad as Maria—everything had to go according to a schedule. It wasn’t like we were losing daylight.
“I don’t want someone to be on the brown and pink horse at the carousel, so we have to go now.” Naturally.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” I asked, walking out with her.
“Don’t worry, Uncle Dom,” she replied, placing her little hand in mine. “You have me.”