16. Family
sixteen
Family
It had felt unspeakably illogical to Brandi to have to spend the night at Eleonora’s home after everything that had happened that evening. The kidnapping attempt might only have eaten about half an hour out of her actual day, but it had shaken her. She felt like she’d barely had time to resettle before Mikey was dropping her off with a carefully packed overnight bag, a spare phone, and a searing kiss. She liked Eleonora well enough, but her soon-to-be mother-in-law’s guest bedroom was not where she wanted to be.
Of course, Brandi had kept the ungrateful thought to herself and done her best to appreciate the older woman’s company, anyway.
Eleonora woke her up with a gentle hand at her shoulder the next morning. “Time to get up, dear,” she said, her hazel eyes sparkling in the early morning light. “Breakfast’s about ready.”
Brandi pushed upright with a stifled yawn. She’d slept a little too well, all things considered. “Please tell me there’s coffee.”
“Of course!” Eleonora hopped up and waved an arm toward the door she’d left open. “Come to the dining room and we’ll eat. You can clean up after.”
Brandi shuffled into the guest bath across the hall first, then heeded her hostess’s suggestion and adjusted course for the dining room. She actually had selected a nice dress—though nowhere near a typical wedding gown—for the occasion, so she’d rather not risk staining it beforehand. Her feet dragged sloppily against the hardwood. I’m getting married today.
They’d made the plans days ago, and she knew they would already have signed the papers if she hadn’t been so badly beaten. But abstract plans on a calendar didn’t feel nearly as real as the understanding that she wasn’t getting ready for work. She was getting ready for the day that officially changed her life. Because they were having a courthouse wedding, she would be saying her vows and signing the paper that made her legally Brandi De Salvo on the same day. Within the same hour, even.
Suddenly she thought she maybe didn’t need that cup of coffee after all.
“Here she is!” Eleonora exclaimed with a beaming smile.
Brandi blinked, bringing her gaze into focus as another voice greeted her.
“Good morning, Brandi. I hope you slept well,” said the first of the women Brandi had technically never met. Her almost sister-in-law held out a perfectly manicured hand, lips lifted in a patient smile. “You probably already know, but I’m Grace. It’s nice to meet you.”
Brandi accepted the handshake in stupefied silence. No one had warned her she would be making introductions before breakfast!
Grace was a couple of inches taller than her, with naturally dirty blonde hair she had piled up in loose curls that flattered her face nicely. Though Brandi was aware that the woman was pregnant, she certainly couldn’t tell. Grace had soft curves, all tastefully covered behind expensive clothes, and looked every bit the professional billionairess she was.
“Good morning,” Brandi finally managed to say.
The other unexpected guest pushed to her feet and rounded the table to come and stand beside Grace. She wore a warm smile to go with her tasteful knee-length dress, her brown hair clipped so as to curve over one shoulder. This woman was visibly younger than Grace, probably also younger than Brandi, curvier, and several inches shorter. She also held out her hand. “I’m Felicity,” she said. “Hope you don’t mind us joining you for breakfast. We wanted the chance to meet you before you walk down the aisle.”
Brandi made a mental note to pay a little more attention to the pictures on Mikey’s walls and politely shook Felicity’s hand. “Good morning,” she repeated. “It’s nice to meet you both. Sorry, I’m a little slow before coffee.” She aimed for a smile and felt relief when they laughed.
“Why don’t we all sit and enjoy some breakfast, then?” Eleonora suggested from her place at the table. “Everything will be right out.”
Brandi moved toward the seat she’d claimed the evening before when they’d chatted over dessert and watched as the other women reclaimed designated seats as well. They were still sliding their chairs into place when Eleonora’s butler bustled into the room with steaming mugs of coffee and herbal tea, before disappearing again.
“You’ll have to forgive Iris,” Eleonora said, “she would have loved to join us this morning, but first-time pregnancies can be difficult.” Her lips lifted in a knowing smile. “Sometimes most of all for the father.”
Grace laughed softly, the steam on her tea spinning around the cup before she lowered it. “Iris did say she promises to make it to the wedding.”
Brandi took a moment to swallow her own sip and set her drink back down before saying, “Then you’ll all be even. Since I’ve already met Iris once.” She offered them a grin even as the first plate of food was set onto the table.
Conversation subsided for a moment and attention shifted to the meals suddenly before them. Brandi let the first bite of egg and melted cheese hit her tongue and nearly moaned with delight. Apparently, the De Salvo family had monopolized all the amazing cooks in the area.
“So, Brandi,” Felicity started, “obviously we all know how this arrangement between the two of you started , but Cristiano told me that Mikey seemed pretty genuinely distressed over your whole kidnapping thing.” She layered some egg and potato onto her fork but raised her gaze to meet Brandi’s stare. “He said he almost felt like a third wheel in his own car, listening to you two talk.” She smiled and popped the bite into her mouth.
Brandi felt heat rush to her face.
Grace shifted in her seat. “I have to admit I’m curious about that, myself. Were you in some kind of secret relationship before?”
“Secret—” Brandi cut herself off at the sight of genuine curiosity on her companions’ faces. Even Eleonora held a look of amused intrigue. “No,” she said firmly. “He never even used my given name before last week.” Was that only a week ago? It felt like so much had happened, like so much had changed.
She nearly missed the look exchanged between Felicity and Grace before Grace said, “So, you’ve been keeping your feelings to yourself for a while?”
“I haven’t been keeping anything to myself,” Brandi insisted. “We’re not marrying because we’re head-over-heels in love.” She stabbed another bite onto her fork, averting her eyes from the table as a whole. A lot really had changed, she realized. Despite herself, the words she was trying to hold back slipped out. “I’m not sure I’d even know what that looked like.”
Her mouth was full of too much food when Eleonora spoke in a soft, steady tone. “Sure you do. You’ve seen it all around you, at the very least since the day you started working for Michele’s company. Deep in your heart, you know you’re surrounded by it even right this very moment.”
The potato lodged awkwardly in her throat and Brandi struggled to swallow it down.
Grace lowered her fork. “If I had to guess, I’d say you’re looking for an ideal. A repeatable formula,” she said. “You’re looking for something that all examples of ‘true love’ might fit into, and when any one sample slips past the parameters of that formula, you dismiss it as a failure. Maybe it’s lust, maybe it’s desperation, maybe it’s nothing at all—the one thing it can’t be is real, enduring love.” She smiled at Brandi. “And I imagine you have your reasons for that. But you’re only hurting yourself by refusing to recognize that that’s not the case at all.”
Brandi finally cleared her throat, coughing roughly. “What?”
Felicity spoke up again. “Are you afraid that because your family situation was messed up, you don’t really know what love is?”
Brandi sat back in her chair. “I’m not good at making friends, because I was isolated as a child. I’ve never had a successful, or overly deep relationship … because I never knew what that looked like. I never had a role model.” The words were true. The words had always been true. But for the first time, they sounded frighteningly like a cop-out.
She hated that.
Felicity snorted. “If our futures are dictated on where we come from, I better excuse myself.” She narrowed her eyes on Brandi when Brandi looked up again, but it wasn’t a glare so much as a stern, meaningful stare. “If Cristiano has taught me anything, it’s that I am not where I came from, my value is not determined by the people who abused me, and my ability to grow and to love is only restricted by me.” Her expression softened. “You don’t need a role model to be happy. Love should make you happy, and make you want to share that happiness.”
Eleonora reached over and laid a hand on Felicity’s nearest arm. “Beautifully said, sweetheart.”
Happy? Brandi wasn’t so strangled by depression that she didn’t understand happiness. It just wasn’t something she sat down and thought about. What she was was thrown off by the intensity of Felicity’s words—by the entire conversation—though some part of her also understood.
It was a confusing, daunting feeling.
Grace sipped at her tea. “I suppose the real question, then, is whether or not you think you can be happy?”
Brandi pushed out a breath and reached again for her fork. “No one said anything about heavy conversations over breakfast. I thought this was supposed to be a cheerful day.” She aimed a grin at the women seated around her, just in case her sarcasm missed.
Laughter and acquiescence greeted her, but she doubted anyone failed to notice how she dodged the question. It wasn’t like she didn’t kind of already know the answer. She just wasn’t sure she was ready to put it into words.
“Having second thoughts yet?” Romeo asked as he walked up. He was dressed sharply, of course, and had steady hold of the bouncing seven-year-old at his side who couldn’t seem to decide where she wanted to look most.
Mikey leveled a reflexive glare on his brother but stood from the chair he’d been waiting in. “Only about telling you the actual appointment time.”
Lucia spun forward, fixing an urgent stare on him. “Are you really getting married here, Uncle Mikey?”
“I am.” He had no idea what to make of his niece’s visible concern, or the way her brows pulled together as if his answer made the feeling worse.
She opened her mouth, found she still couldn’t tug free of her father’s hold, and pouted. “But … it’s so small! Where will all the people go? And where are all the fancy decorations? Where will you and my new aunt take pictures? There’s always lots of pictures, I remember!”
From his expression, it was amazing Romeo wasn’t laughing out loud.
Mikey dropped to a crouch and tapped her under the chin gently. “You don’t need to worry, Lucy. Brandi and I aren’t having a big, fancy party like the others did, that’s all.”
Confusion overtook her expression. “Does that mean there won’t be any dancing? Or food? You won’t be smashing cake into each other’s faces like Daddy and Mommy did?”
Mikey grinned, partially at the memory and partially at her words. It was amazing how quickly she’d come around, considering how intensely she’d objected to the idea of her father getting married just a few short months earlier. “Not this time,” he said. “There’s no rule that says we can’t have a party just for the heck of it later and do all those things.”
Quiet footsteps preceded Iris’s warm voice as she called out to them, saying, “Can I throw in my vote for postponing the party, like, five months? At least.”
Mikey stood as Romeo and Lucia adjusted to make room, since they’d stopped at the end of the walkway.
“Aunt Iris!” Lucia bolted from her father to throw her arms around Iris and press her face into the side of Iris’s belly. “How’s Vitto today?”
Mikey honestly couldn’t tell which of his brothers chuckled at the question, but they all watched as Iris laid a hand on Lucia’s excessively curled hair and another on the swell of her stomach.
“Vittorio’s been lively this morning,” she said. “I think he enjoyed breakfast as much as I did.”
Lucia’s giggles turned into full-blown laughter and the family moved to claim the available seating as they waited.
Mikey glanced around, unsurprised by the missing wives but curious about the other expected guest who hadn’t shown yet. “Cris running late?”
“He’s waiting outside for the women,” Dante said.
“It starts soon, right?” Lucia asked, bouncing in place on her father’s lap.
Mikey pulled out his phone, glancing at the time before sliding open the tracking app to double-check that Brandi’s temporary phone hadn’t gone for another joyride. Undeniable relief lit through him when he recognized her marker nearly on top of his own, meaning they couldn’t be further than the parking lot. He tucked the phone away again. “It starts in about ten minutes,” he said, answering Lucia’s question.
Romeo leaned back, head tilted to aim a teasing smirk Mikey’s way. “If I didn’t know you better, little brother, I’d think you had more invested in this than you tried selling us the other day.”
Mikey turned a glare in Romeo’s direction.
“You might question what you knew,” Dante said, a smug tone to his voice, “if you’d been with us at the guesthouse this weekend.”
This time Romeo did laugh, the sound barking out of him and shaking his shoulders.
Mikey twisted around, too stunned to properly glare and barely keeping himself from shouting something defensively crude. He did try not to talk that way in front of his niece.
Dante’s expression perfectly matched the tone he’d spoken in, daring him to argue. He sat back in his seat, his arm around Iris’s shoulders and one leg crossed at the knee. He was as sure about his statement as he was about every other thing he ever said.
Mikey grunted and let his head fall back to stare up at the ceiling. “You’re both impossible.” He wasn’t marrying for the same reason they had. He’d never planned to. Hell, he’d never planned to marry, period.
“Oh, good, we’re not late,” Eleonora declared as clicking heels rounded the corner.
Mikey looked over, noticing that everyone else’s head swiveled in their direction simultaneously. His eyes glossed over his mother, walking in the lead in a tailored deep blue gown that covered her ankles, zeroing in on his fiancée in a single heartbeat. He barely registered his sister-in-law at her side or his surrogate sister-in-law and his cousin walking just behind them.
Brandi had chosen a sparkling silver dress with gold accents that would have been appropriate at any cliché high-society event. It hugged her beautifully, draping down to her ankles, with a halter style at the top. Her arms were completely bare, except for a couple pieces of jewelry adorning the wrist he knew to have bruised the previous day. Her hair was freshly dyed, which he knew she’d planned to do the night before, and teased and lightly curled.
He didn’t consciously hear her being introduced to the faces she hadn’t yet met. He was busy trying to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth and remember the argument he’d just been making to his brothers.
Iris tapped his arm and cleared her throat quietly. “The look on your face and what you asked me to bring indicate that you haven’t been entirely cognizant of yourself. Denial doesn’t really suit you, Mikey.” She lifted a simple, unassuming bag from the seat on her other side and held it out to him.
Mikey exhaled and took the bag. “I’m working on it,” he grumbled. “Thanks, sis.” He pulled the brightly colored trio of zinnias from within, folded up and set aside the bag, and stood. As he’d requested, the flowers were each a different color and fully bloomed. He could easily have grabbed a flower or ten from the house, but that had felt cheap. So he’d opted for three new ones—one for each of the dozen he’d bought her before.
He became conscious of the low conversation around him at about the time it died off and Brandi’s attention shifted up to him. Her eyes slowly widened as she raked her gaze over him and a beautiful flush of pink colored her cheeks.
“Mikey?” she asked softly.
He cleared his throat for probably not the first time and held out the flowers, which were tied with a thin strap of white silk ribbon. He’d have preferred black, but Iris had insisted she couldn’t use black for a wedding. “A bouquet.”
Romeo snorted.
Brandi smiled and accepted the flowers. “Did you take these out of the five million we already have?”
His lips twitched. “I did not. Now we have five million and three.” He was glad she could joke. One of them needed to not be drowning in unexpected, stupid nerves.
“Wow, five million flowers?” Lucia asked from somewhere just behind him. “How did you count them all?”
Brandi shifted her gaze and promptly said, “I went to college, and your uncle’s kind of a genius.”
Mikey adjusted in order to see his already giggling niece. “Don’t let her sell herself short,” he told Lucia. “Your new aunt’s pretty smart, too.”
“Well damn,” Romeo said, sounding honestly shocked. “A genuine compliment. You really are serious.”
Mikey ignored the muffled snickers and narrowed his eyes at his brother. “You know what—”
Dante laid a hand on his shoulder for a second, then continued toward the back door. “Now that everyone’s here, I’ll go grab Judge Waller.”
No one spoke as Dante went up to the door and rapped his knuckles against the wood, not until Lucia tugged on Romeo’s coat and declared, “Daddy. You owe another dollar to the jar.”
Mikey’s family was amazing. Overwhelming, intense, beautiful, surprisingly warm, and undeniably amazing. It was the one word Brandi kept coming back to, from the conversation around the breakfast table all the way until they moved to the chapel area and the atmosphere settled. She’d met many of her new relatives individually, in tense situations, but as a whole was an entirely different experience.
Judge Waller thanked the family for coming, thanked Brandi and Mikey for remembering the necessary minimum number of witnesses, and wasted no time guiding them through the vows. It was a straightforward ceremony, almost anticlimactically so, and Brandi was startled when the judge asked if there were rings to be exchanged and a little voice answered.
“Oh! I have them!” Lucia exclaimed, as if she’d forgotten.
Brandi tried not to gape at the girl and so did the only thing she could. She turned confused, widened eyes to the man directly across from her who wasn’t surprised at all.
Mikey pretended not to notice and held out a patient hand for Lucia. “Thank you, Lucy. You did great,” he said as Lucia set a single box in his palm.
She beamed with the praise, spun around, and darted back to her seat between her parents.
Brandi did her best to will her racing questions from her mind to Mikey’s. Rings? Since when do we have rings? We definitely never talked about rings. She’d honestly had so much on her mind that she hadn’t given them much thought. But wedding bands were typically a couple decision, weren’t they?
Mikey popped open the box and took her hand as if this was entirely normal. She couldn’t see the item he extracted before he slipped it around her finger, the cool metal sliding down to rest comfortably at her knuckle. Only when he released did he look up and flash her a smirk.
Brandi felt her heart leap and dropped her gaze to the ring, unsurprised to find a diamond blinking back at her. If she remembered correctly, it was a cushion cut, and the size of the gem obscured most of her finger. The ring was undeniably beautiful and almost gaudy, a statement piece. It reminded her of his manor that way, actually. And it fit.
Mikey held out the box for her in a wordless offer.
We’re talking about this later. She wasn’t sure the smile bending her lips communicated that properly, though. So she took the box, lifted the thick golden band that remained inside, and allowed herself only a moment to roll it curiously between her fingers before reaching for his hand. He held still while she nestled the ring on his finger and she wondered if his heart had done the funny thing that hers was doing, because she suddenly felt light-headed.
Judge Waller quietly took the box from her, freeing their hands, and it seemed like only seconds before they were done. “By the power vested in me under the state of New Jersey, I pronounce you husband and wife,” he said. “You may kiss the bride.”
Mikey sealed his lips over hers before she could question whether or not he would kiss her in front of his family, or how. His hands anchored over her hips, holding her tight, the press of his fingers telling her everything she needed to know about the intention behind the grip. If she couldn’t guess it from the way his tongue swept into her mouth and chased the breath from her lungs.
She didn’t realize her own hands had rumpled the fabric of his suit blazer until they separated several seconds later, the chapel filled with applause and Romeo’s whistling.
Mikey wound an arm around her waist, holding her at his side as they stepped away from the altar-like space, and he tipped his head close to hers to whisper, “Welcome to the family, Mrs. De Salvo.”