Chapter 10 Just Like Old Times #2
She was listening so intently, she gazed off into the distance. I almost imagined hearing the old clock ticking on the mantle, but I’d cleared it out when I’d left. It was an antique from my grandfather’s side. His mamma had given it to my Nonna as a wedding gift. A family heirloom.
The old house creaked a bit before it settled into silence.
Scarlett snatched my hand and squeezed. “I think…Francesco and his line are going to be a problem,” she whispered. “The day of the showdown on the island, I knew the potential was there, but the pieces are beginning to connect.”
“How?”
She shrugged. “I don’t have all the answers. I just know what I feel. My senses are…firing, for lack of a better word, and it’s like they know something’s coming, but all the pieces haven’t joined the rest yet. It can be so frustrating!”
“Do you think…” I took a big sip of my drink. Felt the coolness rush down my throat. The citrus dance on my tongue. “Do you think the situation with Francesco will connect to Maggie Beautiful somehow?”
Scarlett took a dainty sip of her drink. “Yes,” she whispered. “Somehow, I think it’s all going to connect.”
“Me too,” I agreed. I looked off into the distance, my mind taking me places I wasn’t sure I wanted to go.
“I haven’t written since the island. Even though it hasn’t been forever, and I’m using forever as an exaggeration, since my first book, I feel almost guilty when I don’t write.
Even if it’s only one word. I struggled with that after my debut novel.
Finding the right words. Then I went to Aria Island, and everything fell into place. Rocco. He became my inspiration.”
“You wrote your love story,” she said.
I nodded. “I did. I didn’t realize I was documenting how our relationship would unfold.
Nothing will ever be as sweet to me, or worth the immortalization on the page, unless it’s a continuation of our story, maybe for our children to read.
But now… Now I’m terrified of another horror story coming to me, except this one won’t be in the distance, this one will hit too close to home. ”
“That wasn’t your horror story, though, Ari.
That was your father’s. He was connecting pieces of a story he meant to write.
You commandeered his ship, so to speak. You.
You’re different. The first book might have given you ground, but your love story with Rocco gave you wings.
Perhaps if you do start to write another book, it’ll give you the answers to all that’s going on right now.
I don’t always get that. Neither does Eva.
Like you said, if you know what’s coming, perhaps you can change it.
That’s such a blessing. Forethought. Preparation.
Action instead of just…knowing and being helpless. ”
“I don’t trust myself yet.”
“You will. It just takes time. It’s like being a mom for the first time. You have instincts for a reason. And the more babies you have, the better you get. By the time Maestro came along, I could change a diaper with one hand—anywhere.”
I grinned, but it fell fast. “Have you told your husband?”
“Not yet. Brando doesn’t have a traditional relationship with Maggie Beautiful, but Maggie is his mamma. He’s always loved her and wanted to protect her. One thing about the Fausti men?”
“They already know when we’re feeling something and hiding it.”
“Yes, and if not right away, it doesn’t take them long to figure it out. Our men might give us time to come to terms with whatever we’re dealing with out of respect, but…if they feel we’re getting too deep inside of our feelings, they don’t hesitate to get involved.”
“It’s the Fausti way,” I whispered. “The men of the family make shields of themselves.”
“Some of them. Luca’s branch has always been the most passionate about love, in my humble opinion.
Even when it’s for the family. It’s still love, and it can still be their main passion.
Ettore came to mind just now. He’s Luca’s brother, the one who was supposed to take over if Luca couldn’t.
By default, Lothario did, who is younger than Luca and Ettore.
Ettore accidentally shot…Marzio, Luca’s father, when he was at war with us. ”
I sighed, went to open my mouth to speak, but the men came inside the house.
I hadn’t heard them. A strong scent alerted me before any noise.
A surge of my husband rushed up my nose and went straight to my heart, making it beat faster.
My hands held on to the table, and I had to take steady breaths to stop the spinning. Rocco was a shot of dopamine.
Scarlett closed her eyes for a second, and when they opened, she looked at me and smiled. “That feeling? It doesn’t lessen. It hasn’t for us, and I know—with all my heightened senses and heart—it won’t for you and Rocco either.”
No matter what else was going on, a true smile came to my face at Scarlett’s words. Scarlett’s smile matched mine. Our men stopped by the entrance to the kitchen, and when they noticed our faces, both of their faces softened at the sight of us sitting together, enjoying our time.
Rocco slid a hand on my shoulder at the same time Brando did the same to Scarlett’s. We both slid our hands over our husband’s hands at the same time. Then we all seemed to look at each other, and a feeling entered the room that wasn’t there before—a strong sense of fate.
“You feel it, too?” Scarlett whispered, like she didn’t want to disturb it.
“I do,” I whispered back, squeezing my husband’s hand, feeling a tremble underneath his skin.
Brando cleared his throat. “The concert.”
Rocco checked his watch. “We have two hours.”
Scarlett had called earlier that day to invite us to a concert in town.
It was an older band, Gin Blossoms. Scarlett had told me theirs was the first concert she’d ever been to.
Brando was the one who took her. Their friends, Mitch and Violet, were meeting us before we all went together.
Mitch and Violet had gone with them to the first concert. I was so game when she’d invited us.
An explosive laugh barreled through my chest when Brando picked Scarlett up and threw her over his shoulder, slapping her ass.
He began to sing a messed-up version of “Found Out About You.” By messed up, I meant the lyrics were all wrong.
Rocco grinned at me, swooped me out of my seat, threw me over his shoulder, and began to sing a romantic Italian tune.
I sighed, because all the words were perfect.
When we all emerged from our rooms ready to roll out the door, the men were dressed almost identical, except for different colored shirts, and Scarlett and I were dressed similar again too.
We both wore leather jackets, a white t-shirt for her, black for me, with edgy jewelry, and wide-leg jeans.
Black boots completed the ’90s-inspired outfits.
Violet even laughed, telling us we were “twinning” and winning at it.
That night, I learned a valuable lesson about the Fausti family and being a part of it. Even if we were struggling with the hardships of life, we could put it aside to enjoy the times that were more lighthearted.
By the end of the concert (Vertical Horizon was part of the tour, and Candlebox was a surprise guest!), which I could tell wasn’t Rocco’s thing (and maybe not all mine either, as far as music goes), he was singing the lyrics to me all wrong too.
But I’d had such an amazing time, and despite the different taste in music, he wanted to make me happy.
If I was next to him, I’d be happy for the rest of my life.