Chapter 15
Giovanni
Tessa’s been muttering grumpily ever since we left the club, everything from “this feels dangerously close to kidnapping” to “unhand me, you overgrown Dobermann.”
It’s taking everything in me not to give her the satisfaction of a laugh, considering she’s the one who followed me out of the club.
“You’re lucky I’m not screaming ‘stranger danger’ right now. I could have you arrested.”
“By whom?” I scan the empty area outside the hotel’s doors, pausing when I find a near-ancient gentleman smoking a cigarette. “That man?” I shrug. “I’m not sorry for leading you out of the club. You weren’t having fun.”
“Wrong, Giovanni. I was having fun. Or I was going to, eventually. Maybe.”
I shake my head and open the door for her. “You weren’t.”
“And how would you know?” She pauses in the doorway.
“I’ve seen you have fun before.”
“When have you seen me having fun?”
When you’re arguing with me. “Around Peyton and Esme.”
Tessa raises an eyebrow. “You think you have me all figured out then, huh?”
Not yet, but I’d like to. “It’d be impossible for anyone to figure you out entirely, Tessa.”
I wait for the next barb, but as soon as we walk into the lobby, her eyes flicker to the elevator, and her movements halt.
“What, um, floor are you on?”
I hear the hesitation in her voice. We can’t take the elevator, and we’ll need privacy to discuss the plan for tomorrow—the last thing Tessa would want is for Lamont to think we’re together.
Unfortunately, my room isn’t on the first floor.
Since she doesn’t readily offer her room as an option, I propose an alternative.
“There’s an enclosed patio space outside of the hotel restaurant off the lobby. Let’s talk there.”
She sighs in relief and walks ahead of me. The dramatic open back of her fitted dress is molded to her body in a way that makes me wonder if she exists just to torment me. I force myself to keep my eyes on the door ahead and not the curve of her waist.
I catch up to her in two steps so I can open the door. She pauses for a moment, seemingly in surprise, before walking through the threshold to the patio.
Given how late it is, we’re the only ones here.
Tessa’s gaze roams the open space, lingering on the vines creeping up the side of the pergolato and the little vase housing one rose in the center of the nearest table.
We both sit down at the same time, and a wave of silence flows between us.
I don’t know where to begin. I rarely make it out to see my family, and I want this to go smoothly.
To reassure them I’m thriving in the states.
Tessa starts. “So, what are your parents like?”
“My parents are…” I search for the right English word. “Generous.”
Tessa nods. “Like, giving their money to charity?”
“They do that, too, but I mean they’re generous in all ways. They’re generous with food, they’re generous with love, they’re generous with… communication.”
A smile pulls at Tessa’s glossy lips. I lean in slightly and identify the coral-tinted flavor as melon today.
“Overcommunicators, huh?”
“You could say that.”
Tugging at the sleeve of her dress, she looks a bit nervous. “What do I have to do to win them over?”
“They already like you,” I admit.
When I first mentioned the “girl I was seeing” to my parents, they asked what she was like, so I started listing off my ideal qualities in a woman.
Smart.
Beautiful.
Talented.
I didn’t set out to describe Tessa specifically, but it all rings true. And now that I’ve filled in my parents on the specifics, it’s almost embarrassing how much they know about my pretend girlfriend.
Her eyes widen. “How do they already like me?”
I go with a partial-truth. “Well, they’re just happy I’m bringing someone home.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” She retrieves the gloss out of her clutch again and swipes it over her lips. It’s excruciating to watch.
“Tell me more about where you grew up.”
I lean back in my seat. “We live in a village on the outskirts of Brescia. We’ll take a rental car to get there.
There’s not much to do, but there’s plenty of open space.
Fresh air and good people. Our region has many hills, and my papa and I used to bike them often growing up. He’s eager to meet you.”
I can’t help the small smile that forms when I talk about my family.
There’s this perpetual ache for home in me, right in my chest. Whenever I feel particularly lonely in New York, it pangs, reminding me I could always move back.
But my goal of expanding Nonno’s legacy, and my relationship with Lu and Micheletto tend to soothe it away.
Tessa’s wearing an unreadable expression when I make eye contact with her again. “Your dad sounds really nice.” She looks down at her nails. “Um, you should probably know… I’ve never actually met a boyfriend’s family before.”
My brows knit together. “What?”
She looks up from her nails, shoulders hunched. “I don’t think anyone pictured a serious future with me, so I guess it wouldn’t have made sense.”
I can’t begin to understand why anyone wouldn’t want to show her off to family. Tessa isn’t even my real girlfriend, and I’m pathetically impatient to introduce her to Mamma and Papa.
She clears her throat. “What I’m trying to say is, I’ll do my best to fit in.”
Before I can contain them, the words come tumbling out. “Be yourself. You don’t have to fit in.”
Her nose wrinkles. “What do you mean?”
I could explain how it’s exhausting, watching her shrink herself for Lamont. How I don’t want her to do that for me or my parents. How even though she drives me crazy sometimes, I wouldn’t change her. Instead I say, “One less thing to lie about.”
She chews on the inside of her cheek. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
In a desperate attempt to move this conversation out of dangerous territory, I mull over other things she needs to know before landing on an essential piece of information.
“If my mamma brings up any stories about past disagreements with her sister for your opinion, no matter how ridiculous the origin of the feud sounds, it’s very important that you tell her she’s right. ”
Mischief flickers in Tessa’s eye as she gives a small grin.
“You don’t have to worry about me siding with her.
I’m very good at ignoring red flags. One time, Peyton told me that she accidentally stole a tablet from a store, and I told her that it was the store’s fault for making them so easily stealable. ”
I ignore my immediate question of how does one “accidentally” steal a tablet, and just blink at this woman.
Tessa’s ridiculously unpredictable in an addicting way.
Amidst my nervousness over our charade, there’s an undercurrent of excitement I can’t deny.
A large part of me is eager to bring her home to Brescia.
To show her a side of me she hasn’t seen before.
As I stare into her rich espresso eyes, I realize we haven’t gone over our relationship origin story yet.
I’m about to tell her how I envision it when she yawns.
It’s late. Having witnessed Tessa’s post-show panic earlier, I don’t want to overwhelm her.
She has a pretty good grasp on my family dynamic, and we’ll figure out the rest later.
I start to stand, but then I remember one last thing. “I almost forgot. There’s this pigeon, and…” I trail off at the sight of another yawn from her. “You know what? Never mind.”
She’ll find out for herself tomorrow.