Chapter 29
ROSS—TWO WEEKS LATER
“Sir, it’s good to see you in such a good mood,” Karl says as he opens the door for me. “I hear congratulations are in order?”
“For real this time,” I reply, shaking his offered hand. “Violet will be here shortly. She’s picking up Papa and Nana from his rehab appointment.”
Karl smiles. “How is Mr. Russo doing?” Karl and Stefano have played chess a couple of times, and they get along very well. “Is he ready for a rematch?”
I lean forward, whispering conspiratorially, “I think he enjoyed his time at the inpatient rehab maybe a bit too much with all the attention.” Karl and I laugh, and I tell him the rest. “He’s home with Nana now, and they have a home health nurse coming every morning.
In the afternoon, he goes to outpatient rehabilitation and does his exercises.
It’s wearing him out a bit, so you might go easy on him when you play.
Let him win every once in a while, you know?
” Karl shakes his head. “So far, he’s been a picture-perfect patient, so they’re hopeful he’s going to be okay.
At least for a while, and that’s significant, considering his previous prognosis and age. ”
Karl raises a stern eyebrow. “You wouldn’t be commenting that Mr. Russo is old, now would you?” If I were generous, I’d say Karl’s in his late sixties, but where Stefano has struggled, Karl is fit and healthy.
“Of course not, Karl. I wouldn’t dare or you’d probably kill me,” I say with a wink.
He grins, patting me a little too firmly on the shoulder as a show of his still-present strength. “Yes, sir. Your mother is around in the garden.”
“Thanks,” I say, heading that way.
I find Mom out by the pool, trimming a few flowers and humming happily under her breath. “Mom?”
Mom looks up, her grin spreading to cover her whole face when she sees me. “Ross, honey!”
“Uh, mind setting down the clippers before you stab me?” I ask as she rushes over, causing her to pause and set her tools down before she hugs me hard. “How are you doing?”
“Just promise me that you’re serious this time, that this is real?” Mom says, her voice thick with happy tears.
“Totally real,” I promise her, hugging her back. “In fact, we decided to make a few changes just to show how serious we’re going to be.”
“Like what?” Mom asks, leading me over to the outdoor couch on the patio and having me take a seat. “Please don’t tell me that you’re going to re-invite Violet’s entire family. I mean, they’re lovely people, but things got a little out of hand last time even without the . . . theatrics.”
I laugh. That’s Mom. An interrupted reception, a fist fight, and a fake marriage, all caught on camera and played on the evening news . . . theatrics.
“We are thinking that smaller would be the way to go, a lot smaller, actually,” I admit. “Now that Papa Stefano is doing better, we were thinking a nice, long engagement . . .”
I let it drag out, purposefully teasing Mom a bit, and she looks at me harshly. But I can read the humor in her eyes and relent. “Okay, long like about six months or so, then a small ceremony, just the close family?”
Mom smiles, nodding excitedly. “Oh, you can have it here at the estate, and we can all pitch in. Abi can do the flowers, of course, and maybe Angela and Sofia could make dinner, and Karl would be happy to help Archie set up the altar. That sounds perfect.” I can hear the relief in her voice.
I hear footsteps approaching and Dad calls out, “Don’t stroke the boy’s ego, Kimberly. Lord knows, he’s arrogant enough as it is.”
I laugh. Dad and I aren’t completely repaired, but we’ve had a couple of long conversations and talked through some of the things Abi and Court brought to my attention.
It was uncomfortable as fuck, neither of us particularly adept at discussing things as nebulous as feelings.
But we’d muddled through and we’re back on solid footing, secure enough to tease each other a bit.
“Well, you must think I’m perfect too, if that’s where your mind immediately jumps,” I retort, and Dad chucks me under the chin. “Mom was talking about it being perfect to have the wedding here. In six months.”
Dad sits down, his lips pursed. “Is that what you want?”
As Abi and Court said, that’s progress. Dad isn’t making suggestions, isn’t recommending one course over another, isn’t even inviting me to discuss my thoughts on the idea.
He’s trusting that I’ve done my due diligence, know my own heart, and have made my own decision.
Most importantly, he’s trusting that I’ve made the right one.
“Yes, that’s what I suggested to Violet already. I was hoping to ask for your permission, but it seems like Mom’s already on board and volunteered the house.”
“And the wait?” Dad follows up.
I smile. “We did things all out of order. We fought first, got engaged, moved in with each other, fell in love, and got married. We never really dated. I’m looking forward to doing that with Vi.”
Mom’s smile is wry. “Is it really dating if you’re already living together?”
I chuckle. “Well, it didn’t make sense for her to move out because she’s already my wife.”
Yeah, there’s that. We decided to stay married and not seek an annulment.
We know what was in our hearts as we walked down that aisle, and that’s what matters.
When we’re ready, we’ll do it again, and it will mean just as much.
A continuation of our marriage vows, a renewal of our commitment, and another date for me to remember.
Abi threatened to tie me down and have both dates tattooed on my ass so I’d never forget.
I think she’s still worried that I’m going to fuck this up and ruin her relationship with her best friend.
But I’m not that asshole I was in high school, not the cocky bastard I was just a few long weeks ago.
And that’s mostly because of Violet. Okay, and Abi and Court, though I won’t ever tell them how much I appreciate the kick in the ass.
And Dad too, but I did tell him that in one of those clumsy conversations.
Dad jokes back, “Okay, so you’re living together. Does it make sense to date your wife?”
Mom answers for me. “Yes, Morgan. Yes, it does.”
“Oops, walked right into that one. Sorry, dear. Maybe we could go to that restaurant you like this weekend? The one with all the spicy food that gives me heartburn?” He smiles, and I laugh as I figure out where I got my slick moves with the ladies .
. . like flirting by putting frogs down their shirts.
She nods, committing him to a weekend of antacids, and I come in like any good wingman, pulling a distraction. “How’re things at the office?”
He sighs gratefully. “Actually, Ross, I wanted to talk with you about that. Any chance you’d like to come back and rejoin the board of directors?
Not the VP role. I know you want to step away from that, and Courtney is thrilled to step up and take on more responsibilities.
She’s already doing well with that. But the board position is less time-intensive, so you could do it and whatever else you decide to do. ”
I think it over, but as I do, what comes to my mind isn’t the prestige of being with the company. It’s the late nights, the hours that I’ve spent working, and how I’d much rather spend that time with Violet. My time at the company was never a nine to five.
“Dad, I’m not saying no . . . I’m saying I’m not sure I can give you an answer right now,” I admit. “The idea of being part of the family company is nice, but the idea of being with Violet and spending time with her is pretty damn nice too. And this would be something we need to discuss together.”
Dad purses his lips, disappointed but respectful. “I understand. It’s open to you any time you’d like to have it. What are you thinking you’re going to do?”
I appreciate that there’s no pressure, no drive to get out there and make something of myself right this minute.
“I’m still discussing it with Kaede. There’s a part of me that wants to see if I can do what you did, build something of my own too.
You taught me a lot, and I think it’s time I put all those hours at your side to good use.
If you or Courtney ever need me at Andrews, I’ll be there, but I’m looking forward to a new challenge. ”
He smiles proudly and nods. “I’m sure you’ll do whatever you put your mind to, Son.”
The warm evening’s perfect for dinner as we light up the patio and set everything up for dinner.
While I wish Marissa, Estella, and Vanessa could join us, along with the rest of Violet’s family, they all had to leave town and return to their own lives.
Apparently, the triplets’ performance at our reception earned them some positive notoriety, and there’s talk of their doing some recordings when they’re on break from school.
That was a silver lining to that particular dark cloud, at least.
“Good news, everyone,” I report as we settle in and Nana starts passing around a huge tray of lasagna.
“I got a call from Colin Radcliffe’s lawyer.
He’s agreed to drop his suit if Abi and Violet are willing to drop the lawsuit over his recording on private property.
Seems they got a rather threatening call from someone at Andrews? ”
Courtney smiles like she’s some sweet, innocent thing, but I know it was her.
It was a stroke of genius, and all Courtney’s idea, but a little bit of research by our lawyer found that Colin violated quite a few laws with recording Abi and Violet’s conversation.
It seems video recording on private property without the owner’s permission is a huge no-no, and partner that with the audio recording, which is a separate offense, and Colin was looking at potential jail time.
That was before we tacked on the civil suit with solid cases against Colin for defamation and trespassing at the wedding and reception with ill intentions.
Around the table, my news is greeted with smiles, except from Aunt Sofia.
“I would have liked to have had a few minutes with that . . . excuse me, I must watch my tongue,” she says, her lips pinching shut.
“Father O’Flannigan says I inspired him to learn a little Italian, and I already owe him enough Hail Marys as it is.
He’s learning a new language. I’m learning to bite my tongue.
” She holds her hands up to the sky. “Dio Mio!”
Violet, who looks amazing as always sitting next to me, laughs. “I give it a week before you’re back to your normal self.”
Sofia laughs, shrugging. “Someone has to keep you all in line! And nobody’s better than an Italian aunt!”
“Whoa, there, Aunt Sofia,” I plead, holding up my hands. “I’m new around here, but I already know not to mess with you.”
“Well, as long as you’re scared of a little old lady,” Abi teases as she reaches across me, “I’m gonna grab the garlic bread.”
We get everything passed out, all of the dishes coming around family style. Plates are filled, and the conversation’s loud and boisterous. If anyone looks upset, it has to be Stefano.
“What is it, Papa?” Violet asks after Nana’s said grace and everyone starts to dig in. Stefano’s got a pained expression in his face, and I swear he looks emotional. “Are you okay? Is it your heart?”
“Yes and no,” Stefano says, sighing miserably. “All this wonderful food, but those doctors, they want me to eat less!”
“Well, you know, Stefano,” Mom says, trying to be helpful, “tomatoes are very rich in lycopene and vitamins. They’re actually great for your heart. You might just need to adjust the recipes . . .” Mom pauses, feeling the glares from Nana and Sofia. “I’m just saying.”
“Kimberly,” Maria says, patting her on the arm, “stop before Nana invokes Susan Lucci on you. Just trust me, it’s not worth it.”
Mom looks very confused but does indeed drop her suggestions about how to make Nana’s Italian food healthier for Stefano.
Stefano, though, has one more complaint. “And worst of all, no more of my cigars!”
“Thank Madre Maria!” Nana declares. “It’ll still be years before I get that stink out of my house!”
“Your house?” Stefano growls, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Violet covering her mouth as she tries to hide the smile. “Woman, I worked for forty-five years to—”
“I have an idea,” Dad says, not used to their bickering. “Stefano, after dinner, would you care to join me in my study for some fine bourbon?”
Stefano immediately stops bickering with Nana and turns to Dad, grinning. “If you’ve got a good scotch . . . I think I might find your study even more enjoyable than my own bedroom.”
“Where you won’t be sleeping tonight if you keep up with your mouthing, man,” Nana sasses back. “The couch is calling your name.”
I can’t help but laugh, and everyone else busts out too. Maria tries to rein her mother in. “Mom, could you maybe not discuss your sleeping arrangements in front of Violet’s new family? You’re going to scare them off because you’re acting pazza.”
I lean over and whisper in Violet’s ear as everyone teases and jokes around us. “I think I can see where you got your smart mouth from.”
She licks her lips and my eyes follow the movement. “Yeah, we’re all pretty much ball-busters. Some people can handle it, some can’t,” she whispers back with a shrug like she hasn’t decided if I can handle her or not.
Sassy minx. She knows exactly what she’s doing.
“Keep talking about handling my balls, Vi, and I’ll give you everything in them. Where do you want it tonight?” My voice is low and dark, full of promise.
“Wherever you want to give it to me, husband. You know how much I like to obey.” She drawls the last word out, a dare and challenge all at once because we both know that there’s not a damn thing in this world that could make Violet Antonia Carlotta Russo obey an order she doesn’t want to.
But oh, when she wants to, she is glorious in her utter wanton surrender.
And I’m the only man who gets to see her that way, her husband.