Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
A s expected, news of her fake engagement had spread faster than gossip among the Barones, and Lucy had spent the next twenty-four hours fielding more messages than she had in a very long time. Or ever.
Surprisingly, most messages were congratulatory rather than inquisitive. Everyone appeared…relieved as opposed to curious, which Lucy would have found more insulting if she wasn’t rejoicing because her relatives had chosen this opportunity to mind their own business.
Her mother had never honed that particular art, but their phone conversation last night had gone better than expected.
“Luciana, this is an answer to my prayers,” Maria Barone had cried when Lucy had called her. “I prayed for a good husband for you. A nice boy who needed a good steady girl to settle down with. I said a novena every night the week leading up to Mariana’s wedding in hopes that you would find someone there. And it happened. Not only that, but it’s Joel! Only a miracle could have made this occur. God is good, patatina . ”
Lucy cringed at the term of endearment her parents had used for her since childhood. Why her sister had scored a nickname principessa while Lucy had been the “little potato” she had no idea. She figured it might have been her very potato like form before she’d grown into her curves. Or maybe a reference to the hours she’d spent with her nonna in the kitchen making potato gnocchi. But wherever the name had come from, it had stuck, and now she was forever their “little potato.” No wonder her father couldn’t envision her at the head of Barone & Sons.
“When will you marry? I think it’s best to make it a brief engagement. At your age, why wait?”
Lucy would have reminded her mother that twenty-nine was not old, if she could have gotten a word in edgewise.
“We should take advantage of the summer weather. I’ll see if I can book St. Mary’s. Usually, they book a year in advance for the summer weddings, but Fr. Alfonso owes us a favor for the time Luciano fixed the damaged pews for free, so maybe he can squeeze you in by late August.”
“Mom—”
“By next week I can get invitations made by your god-sister’s cousin’s girlfriend. What’s her name? Diana? Daisy? Anyway, she’s in the stationery business, and I’m sure she’ll be happy to do this rush order considering the circumstance. They could be in the mail by the end of next week! The Italian relatives might not all come back, since they were just here for Mari’s wedding, but patatina , this is a gift from God. We shouldn’t waste it by worrying about the small things. It’s about the marriage in the eyes of God, not the wedding.”
“Mom, please,” Lucy insisted, trying not to be insulted by how desperate her mother must have been feeling to not mind not having every last relative present at her daughter’s wedding. “I haven’t even talked to Joel about a date. Besides, he lives in Portland right now. He’s only just broken ground on the new construction here. He can’t have a rushed wedding at St. Mary’s. A wedding is at least two years off.” Hopefully, she’d need less time than that to convince her father.
There had been a loaded pause on the other end of the line. Then, “You’re right. We should have the wedding in Portland to make it easier for Joel. And if we move the wedding there, we can use the centerpieces and decorations from Mari’s wedding.”
Once her mother had finished verbally planning out the entire affair, she’d handed the phone over to Luciano.
“ Patatina ,” her father had exclaimed before she could even say hello. “Congratulations! Joel is a lucky man.”
Her father’s joy had guilt tugging at her heart, reminding her there was a lot at stake if this all went south.
“It would have been nice if he’d talked to me about it first, but when a man is in love he doesn’t always wait for the formalities. Then again, who am I to criticize? I didn’t ask your mother’s father for permission either. I was too lovestruck to think clearly.” He laughed raucously. “Does Walter know?”
“I don’t think so,” she replied honestly. She wasn’t sure if Joel had told his family yet or not. “And can you and Mom please not tell Walter or Audrey. It’s a surprise for everyone, and Joel wants to tell them in person.” She wouldn’t put it past her parents to be speed dialing the Morgans the moment they had a chance. Shit, maybe they already had. “You didn’t already tell them, did you?”
“Of course not!” her father exclaimed, sounding affronted. “This is your news to share. Besides, I heard they’re on vacation. That’s why they couldn’t attend Mariana’s wedding. They should be due back soon though.”
Right, so the only reason her parents hadn’t called the Morgans was because Walter and Audrey were on holiday, and not because Luciano and Maria were staying in their lanes. Perfect.
“Will you just promise not to say anything to any of the Morgans until I give you the go-ahead?”
“ Ma —” he started, sounding perplexed.
“No buts , dad. Joel has the right to tell his family first, and he wants to do it in person.” She really needed to drive this home or it could get out of hand fast. “Promise you and mom won’t say anything until I tell you it’s okay to.”
Silence stretched across the phone line.
“Dad?” she exclaimed. “Promise?”
“Alright, alright. I will wait for you to tell me when it’s safe to call my best business associate to congratulate him on the union of our children. I’ll wait. I’m a patient man.”
Lucy rolled her eyes, but only because she knew her father couldn’t see her.
“But you are wrong, patatina ,” her father went on. “I wasn’t surprised at all when I heard about your engagement,” her father said in a serious tone. “You and Joel have always been like-minded. Good things will come from this match, including the future you deserve. I am happy for you.”
Here went nothing. “Speaking of the future I deserve…” She chewed her lower lip as she considered her phrasing. “I’d like to talk to you again about the future of Barone & Sons.”
“Luciana, basta . This is no time to talk shop. There’s plenty of time for work later. The future of Barone & Sons is long enough. This is a time to celebrate. ”
Or to scream into a pillow.
“Wait, your mother wants to talk to you about the wedding reception and—” Her father was cut off as her mother took over again.
And so it had gone with the rest of her relatives. Each offered first their stunned congratulations, in one way or another likened her engagement to a miracle, then nosedived into planning a wedding that everyone seemed to think had to happen within the next six weeks at the latest.
By six o’clock on Monday evening, Lucy was looking forward to leaving Zia Ella’s house and spending time with someone who wasn’t a blood relative, even if that someone was Joel.
She was applying her last stroke of mascara when Ella barged into the guest room.
“Your parents will be here Thursday afternoon.”
Lucy lost focus and almost stabbed herself with the mascara wand. “But they have the flu. Mom still sounded sniffly on the phone.”
Behind her in the mirror, Ella shrugged. “It’s a cold. And she’s not contagious anymore.” Her hands fluttered. “Anyway, by Thursday she’ll be fine. You expect her to stay put when her daughter is getting married?”
“I’m only engaged! We haven’t set a date.” With luck, she’d never get to her fake wedding. “There’s no reason for her to come to Portland.”
“We’re hosting your engagement party here in less than two weeks. Your mother needs to plan.”
“What?!” This time she put down her mascara before she hurt herself.
“Your mother and I agreed that since our relatives are here, we should use the opportunity to have the party. It makes sense, Lucy. ”
“It makes no sense. At all.” Before she could argue further, the doorbell rang.
Ella’s face lit up like a freaking Christmas tree. “I’ll get it!” she sang as she bounded back into the hall before Lucy could blink.
This was a very bad, horrible, no-good idea. So why didn’t she put an end to it now? Because of her father. And Nico. And the fact that this was her best—and maybe last—shot at running her father’s company.
“Lucy, your fiancé is here!” Ella hollered from down the hall.
Showtime. Lucy stood up, assessing herself in the full-length mirror. Vanessa would be proud of her fashion choices this evening. She’d gone for a long flowy Anthropologie dress. Casual but summery, pretty and flirty. Slipping her feet into a pair of sandals and grabbing a jean jacket, she made her way to the front door.
Seeing Joel tower in her aunt’s doorway in Portland was simultaneously bizarre and exhilarating. He stood there, talking to Ella like he did this all the time, looking positively delicious with his hands in the pockets of chambray-colored shorts that matched his iris’.
When she drew closer, he glanced her way, did a double take, then smiled. “Lucy.”
A thrill shivered up her spine as his heated appraisal scanned the length of her body. “Joel,” she replied, making her way to him.
“Well, you two have fun tonight,” Ella exclaimed in a shrill voice, then chattered on. “You should set a date. Maria and I think sooner is better. Before the weather turns. You agree, no?”
Joel hadn’t taken his eyes off Lucy’s. “I agree that making Lucy my wife can’t come soon enough.” He glanced at Ella. “ Enjoy your evening. Don’t wait up.” He winked, then guided Lucy out the door.
“Can’t come soon enough?” She made sure he heard the eyeroll in her voice as she headed down the front steps.
Joel grabbed her hand and shot her a smile. “You want people to buy this or not?”
She tried to tug free, but he held fast.
“Your aunt’s looking out the window.” He squeezed her hand tighter. “And for the record, if this were real, I’d have already made you my wife. Oh, wait.” He offered her an inscrutable side-eye that made her squeeze his palm as hard as she could in protest, but he merely chuckled under his breath.
The beep of a car unlocking drew her attention to the Porsche parked on the street.
“A Taycan? Subtle,” she quipped.
“I know it’s not a cherry-red Ferrari, but this is Portland, so I went with low-key.”
Lucy halted mid-step, tilting her head up to him as an old memory began to resurface. “What?”
“A Ferrari.” He smiled down at her, a faint dimple appearing in his right cheek. “Cherry-red. One that will hug the curves of the Mediterranean roads like a man curls into his love,” he recited, his tone forlorn and over-the-top.
She jabbed him in the ribs. “I did not say it like that!” Had she? She did have a flair for dramatic expression at times.
“You said it exactly like that.” Joel laughed. “Word for word.”
“Oh please!” A cherry-red Ferrari was her dream car, and she’d once described how an item on her bucket list was to race along one of Italy’s famous winding coastline roads in one. She’d probably used those exact words, though she couldn’t remember. It had been years since she’d said it, and if she couldn’t remember, how could he? “How would you even remember that?”
“Luciana,” he rasped, his gaze serious. “I remember everything about you and our time together.” After a beat, wherein Lucy swore she heard the thundering of her own heart, Joel released her hand and continued to the passenger side of the sleek black car. “Also, win gold and wear it, Barone. Your father taught me that.”
Giving herself a mental shake, she ignored the panicked giddiness surging through her and caught up with him. He’d shaken her—best cover that with a snarky comment. “Funny, he always told me not to show off.”
“Yes, he taught me that too.” Joel opened the Porsche’s door, and she inhaled him as he stepped aside.
The best smell in the universe was his bergamot and cedar soap mixed with the warm scent of his skin. Her hormones went nuts for it. Like the combination had been designed with the sole purpose of attracting her.
“But he always reminds me to enjoy my success. Wearing your accomplishments with confidence is good for business. Wearing them with arrogance is a disaster.”
Lucy laughed. “Now that sounds more like him.”
Blunt and unsubtle. That was Luciano Barone. But she would play it to her advantage. Her marriage to Joel was an accomplishment in her father’s eyes, and she’d leverage that advantage however she could. Including using it to have him see her in a different light when it came to the business.
She slid into the seat and waited until Joel shut the door before she let out an indulgent sigh. The leather was like butter against her skin, soft and luxurious, and the new-car scent told her this must have been a recent purchase.
Seconds later, Joel was buckling into the driver’s side. “ Comfortable?” he asked as he pressed a button to start the car.
The electric vehicle was so silent that she jolted when he pulled away from the curb. He looked over at her with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. This is fine.”
Now he laughed because the way the seat molded around her body wasn’t just fine. It was magical, and he knew it.
They had left her aunt’s suburb and were flying down the highway when she asked, “So, where are we going?”
“There’s this pizza place across the bridge that I discovered a while back. Best thin crust I’ve ever had. I thought we could go there.” He glanced over at her. “You okay with that?”
Her stomach grumbled at the thought. “If I could only eat one thing for the rest of my life, it would be pizza.”
“Because you could change the topping every day, so you’d never get sick of it.” This time he stared straight ahead before he murmured, “I remember.”
That had been a Vegas conversation. They’d been on their third round of shots, halfway to get-married-on-a-whim drunk and had been talking about what they would choose if they could only eat one thing for the rest of their lives. She’d said pizza. He’d gone with his mother’s Christmas dinner, complete with prime rib and Yorkshire puddings. Lucy had commented that she’d never had Yorkshire puddings, and weeks later, she’d come home to Joel in his penthouse kitchen with an apron on making her some, his mother’s recipe handwritten on a notepad beside him. She remembered that.
Deciding it was safest if she spent the rest of the drive in silence, Lucy dedicated the next fifteen minutes to watching the scenery out the tinted window.
The city flew past her, then slowed when they entered downtown, passing a stadium, then weaving through Portland State University, before driving over one of the many bridges. The town was beautiful, and she saw the appeal. There was enough big city flare to feel exciting, but it stopped short of having the overpopulated and busy vibe that San Francisco gave off.
Portland had the perfect small town, big city balance.
They pulled into a parking lot, and Joel climbed out, rounding the Porsche to open her door. Lucy took the hand he offered, but once she got out of the car, he didn’t let go. Instead, he held fast as they walked to the front of the restaurant.
When he caught her looking at their joined hands, he lifted them, brushing his lips across the back of her palm. “Win gold and wear it,” he murmured, before he opened the restaurant door for her.