Chapter 8
Fabio
We survived The Nutcracker, but the evening wasn’t over yet. Next, we would have to endure a meal and lots of drinking with my large family.
I hated not being able to read Cyndee’s emotions right now. She was quiet and stoic, not at all like she was during the performance when her face lit up like the star atop a Christmas tree and she laughed and clapped.
At the end, she stood cheering with more enthusiasm than I’d ever seen in person.
Her eyes sparkled with emotion, and she repeated brava.
I wasn’t sure if she was trying to sound Italian as part of her act in front of my family or if she genuinely knew the word.
At this point, I didn’t care. My mother seemed pleased.
I listened to Cyndee exhaling a deep breath. I slowly cut my gaze at her beside me in the car and her hand was on her heart.
“Is everything okay? You’re very quiet,” I said.
“I’m good. Still reeling from that amazing performance. I’ve only ever seen local dance schools do The Nutcracker. You know, teenage girls and younger. But the San Francisco Ballet is on a whole other level.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” I tried not to look at her for very long. She might get the wrong idea, like I was actually attracted to her. She was a beautiful woman outside of her cleaning uniform, but nothing could ever happen between us.
“I didn’t like it.”
“You didn’t?” I asked utterly surprised. “Then what was that in the opera house.”
“You didn’t let me finish. I loved it.” She smiled brightly. “I’m jealous you see it every year. What a wonderful holiday treat.”
“It’s only because of Zia. One day she’ll no longer be part of the ballet and I won’t go anymore.”
“How sad. Your sister was outstanding.”
“Thank you.”
“So, what’s next?” she asked, fidgeting with the hem of her fur coat. I had to praise my little sister for selecting the perfect outfit for Cyndee. She looked like a million bucks. No one would ever believe she wasn’t part of high society.
Hell, if I hadn’t seen her on her knees cleaning my toilet, I wouldn’t have believed it. Instantly, I imagined Cyndee on her knees in front of me dressed as she was now. My dick rumbled to life, and I cursed myself for even going there.
“Drinks and dessert at our favorite Italian bistro.” I tried to imagine the last man Ross had tortured to death. Remembering the fucker’s bloody face and missing eyes quieted my growing hardon.
“And everyone will be there? Even the children?”
“We gather at the bistro to celebrate Zia’s success. All of us. The young ones too.” I was feeling in control again. “I’ll try to intercept all the questions. But you might want to have some basic answers.”
“Like what?”
“Obviously your name and where you live. Do you work. What does your family do for a living. Basic stuff like that.”
“I think I’m going to be sick.” She put her hand on her stomach.
“Do you want Ross to pull over?” Christ, she’d better not vomit in my car.
“I’ll be okay. I’m just nauseous thinking about answering a bunch of questions. Couldn’t you just take me home and tell them I wasn’t feeling well?”
“No, I can’t. They won’t believe we’re a couple if you don’t show up. I need you at all the events, Cyndee. That’s what we agreed on.”
“You’re right. Sorry.”
I peered at her out of the corner of my eye. She was chewing on her bottom lip, and I could tell she was deep in thought. Why hadn’t I prepared her in advance? Because I was an idiot.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine,” I told her, hoping to calm her down.
She twisted in her seat to face me. “My parents are average people. What do you I tell your family?”
“We can embellish your parents’ careers. What does your mom and dad do?”
“Embellish won’t be enough.” She shook her head. “My dad owns a small building company. I think he makes two hundred thousand a year. It’s not a lot for living in Boston. My mom is a teacher. We lived comfortably but we aren’t rich.”
“Those are respectable jobs, Cyndee. Don’t feel bad.”
“Compared to you and your family, mine is basically poverty level.”
“No fingers in your mouth.” I took her hand when she went to bite her nail. “You’ll ruin your pretty nails.”
The hard lines on her forehead softened. “Do you really like them?”
“I do.” I rubbed my thumb against the top of her hand. She had long, thin fingers. She could be a hand model for the finest jewelry designers. “When my family asks about yours, tell them your dad is in real estate, and your mother is a philanthropist.”
“But they aren’t into any of that.”
“My family will accept those answers because they know people with similar backgrounds who are billionaires. They’ll just assume your parents are too.”
“Really?” She appeared stunned.
“Yes, really.”
“And what is my job?”
“Trust fund baby. You’re just living your best life spending your parents’ money like most socialites.”
“A socialite like Paris Hilton? My name is not famous like hers. They won’t buy it.”
I nodded considering her words. “You’re right. Let’s stick with trust fund baby.”
“Ugh. I don’t like this, Fabio.”
The way my name rolled off her tongue made me feel weird. I shouldn’t like hearing her call me by my name, but I did. Dammit!
“We’re here,” Ross said, and not a moment too soon. I needed to get out of the car and breathe fresh air into my nose and lungs.
All I smelled was Cyndee’s intoxicating scent and she wasn’t even wearing perfume.
I wouldn’t let Zia buy any and I had specifically told Cyndee not to wear any.
Perfume weakened me, but apparently, Cyndee’s natural scent was much worse.
I should’ve never instructed Ross to take us the long way to the bistro.
I thought it would be good to give Cyndee and I time together after the ballet, but I was horribly wrong. She wasn’t awful to be with and that was a problem.
And naturally, my family would be eagerly waiting for us to arrive so they could overwhelm Cyndee with a million questions.
“Do you we have to stay long?” she asked as I helped her out of the car.
“I’ll do my best to get us out within an hour.” And that was being me being optimistic. I was confident my family would try to keep us there longer.
“Call if you need to get me sooner,” Ross said. “I’ll park in the alley as usual.”
“Thanks.”
After nine, the bistro wasn’t busy. My family preferred to have the place to themselves. Padre would buy out the place so we could celebrate in private. He didn’t like coming to San Francisco, so when he did, it was always for a family event like Zia’s ballet performances.
My parents were staying the week in town for the twin’s choir concert next Saturday.
Fortunately, they had a penthouse in the city.
They never stayed in public places like hotels, even the finest. My mother disliked germs and believed nobody cleaned better than her maids, so of course, she brought the two women with them.
“Fabio’s arrived with his lovely date.” Remo was the first on his feet when we entered. Damn him for making a big deal about Cyndee.
My other brothers followed suit to get a closer look at the woman beside me.
Cyndee slipped her hand in mind and squeezed. I felt bad for her, but she’d have to navigate my world as best she could. I was paying her more money than she’d probably ever earned on her own. She needed to learn fast.
“Buonasera familia!” I shouted, good evening family, in Italian as if nothing amiss was going on like me trying to fool them into believing Cyndee was my new girlfriend.
“Let me meet your new lady.” Andrea took Cyndee’s free hand and kissed the top. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bellissima.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” she replied.
One by one, my brothers kissed her hand and ogled her. It didn’t bother me very much. Italian men often fawned over a beautiful woman and Cyndee was gorgeous in the clothing my sister picked out. As my brothers met my new fake girlfriend, I went to greet Zia.
“We were magnifico tonight.” I hugged her tightly and whispered, “Help me with Cyndee.”
“Shame on you for not being truthful. She’s gorgeous and you downplayed her,” she said in a scolding tone.
“It doesn’t matter. She’d never get the families blessing.”
“I hate how discriminating everyone is. Why can’t they just accept who we love?”
I pulled back and considered her words. “Is there someone you’re hiding from us?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. When would I have time for romance with the ballet being my first love?” She waved me off and went over to Cyndee.
A minute later, I introduced Cyndee to my parents, then put her in the chair on my left side, and closest to Zia and the twins. I needed to keep her as far as possible from my parents and Remo.
Platters of Italian cheeses and desserts were brought out along with several bottles of wine. Spirits were high, which I was grateful for.
“What do her parents do?” Padre asked as I knew he would.
“Real estate.” I waggled my brows like I’d hit the jackpot.
Padre made a face like he was impressed and lifted his wine glass and gestured cheers.
“Is she Italian?” Mama asked in a quiet tone. “She looks it.”
“But she must be full-blooded,” Padre said.
“Yeah, I haven’t gotten that far,” I replied.
“It should be the first thing you find out,” Padre snipped.
“What do you do, Cyndee,” Remo asked.
“She’s a trust fund baby, if you must know,” I replied. “Don’t be so rude, brother.”
My response got a lot of interesting expressions, but my family seemed satisfied. I was relieved and could relax for the remainder of the evening.
Cyndee chatted with Zia and the twins. I would owe my sister tremendously after tonight.
I fell into a normal flow talking with my brother Andrea, who was a year older than me. Elio and Andrea ran the Portland district. He told me about their projects and growing the business. I would’ve enjoyed being up north with them, but my father had other plans for me.
Being the youngest son, he wanted me to be under Remo’s instruction.
In our family, my father tried to have two sons in each district.
Should one fall, the second would take over.
That was why having male heirs mattered so much to him.
He only trusted his blood relatives, not outsiders.
His business mindset was very old-world.
I had a feeling after he passed, things would change in the Ferrari crime family.
But what my father didn’t know was Remo wasn’t the best mentor.
My older brother had a lot of shit going on in his personal life and one of these days, he would make a fatal mistake.
If it weren’t for Ross’s older brother Aiden, who was Remo’s trusted advisor, I would be forced to involve my father.
Padre wouldn’t hesitate to remove my brother from the top and shuffle people around.
I wanted to give Remo a chance to get himself straight, I just didn’t know if he could with his wife situation.
Glancing over at Anna, I shook my head. She appeared bored and distracted on her cellphone, instead of interested in what her daughters were telling Cyndee and Zia. My parents had chosen poorly for Remo, and I feared they would do the same for me if I didn’t find my own wife.
“Where did you meet her?” Andrea darted his dark eyes at Cyndee.
“In the elevator of my apartment building.” I slipped my arm behind Cyndee and pulled her close.
“When I saw her, I couldn’t resist. Isn’t that right, Tesoro?
” Now that I thought of it, I wondered if she knew tesoro meant darling in Italian.
Although some used the word to mean treasure, which was fine.
But me? I loved saying the word as a term of endearment either way.
“Yes, he wouldn’t let me out of the elevator without giving him my number. He’s very demanding like a boss.” She laughed and patted my arm.
“Excuse me, Cyndee. I’m going to the restroom.” Zia stood and left.
“Demanding like a boss, you say?” Andrea snorted. “And you like that?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” She gazed into my eyes. “And Fabio doesn’t take no for an answer. Excuse me. I’m going to the restroom as well.”
I nodded and watched her sashay to the back of the building.
“Damn, brother. I haven’t seen any woman like her in Portland. I might have to stay for a while so I can ride your elevator.” Andrea winked.
“No. We have business to finish before Christmas,” Elio said. “But I agree. I haven’t met any sophisticated women like Cyndee in Portland, just gold diggers. Don’t let her go.”
“Slow down. We’ve only been seeing each other for short time. Don’t jump to marriage just yet, brother.” I laughed nervously.
The way my family responded to Cyndee was concerning. Could they genuinely like her? Well, everyone but Anna. She hadn’t said two words to my fake girlfriend.
Speaking of my fake girlfriend, she wasn’t back yet. I was about to go see if everything was okay when I came face to face with my past.
“Fabio, how are you?” Lucia hugged me as if we were old friends, or rather former lovers still on good terms.
“What are you doing here?” I checked the hallway leading to the bathroom. I didn’t want Cyndee anywhere near Lucia.
“I’m picking up Anna. We’re still very close,” Lucia said.
“You are?” I shot a disgusted look at my sister-in-law, then my brother. “I guess loyalty is a dying virtue.”
“It’s always loyalty with you.” Lucia moved closer to me. I recognized the determination in her hazel depths. She believed she could weasel her way back into my life. “I made a mistake. Extend me a little grace.”
“I’m ready to leave, Tesoro.” Cyndee’s hand went on my shoulder. “Oh, I didn’t see you talking to someone.”
“It’s nobody.” I looped my arm around her waist and kissed her softly. A second passed with our lips touching, and I realized what I’d done. But Cyndee behaved like any girlfriend would and kissed me back.
“And who is this?” Lucia asked.
I reluctantly ended the kiss.
“I told you on the phone, Lucia. It’s his new girlfriend,” Anna replied. “Sorry, if I ruined your evening. I didn’t know you were bringing someone. Come on.” She gripped Lucia’s elbow and led her out of the bistro.
I turned my attention back to Cyndee. “I’ll get your coat, then we can leave.”
“Whatever you want.” She smiled.
I fucking wished she hadn’t said that.