Chapter 16 #2
“What?” Luca asked, as he checked them in at one of the kiosks. “You ever fly across country in coach?”
“Yep,” Oliver retorted in a teasing voice. “I flew to Mexico once in coach.”
Luca flushed. “Well . . .uh . . .that was the seat that was available.”
“It’s alright. You can still be that guy,” Oliver said, tucking a hand into his arm. Squeezing. “I love you anyway.”
Still, Oliver couldn’t deny it was really nice to fly first-class. The seats were big and comfortable and they got a meal and, in Luca’s case, a glass of wine.
That Oliver ended up partially stealing.
“You know,” Luca said, brimming with affection as he glanced over at Oliver when he returned the glass to his tray table, “you could get your own glass of wine. We are in first class.”
“I know. I’m just . . .” Nervous. What if your family hates me for taking you away?
“What did I tell you? They’re all going to be goddamned grateful to you for taking me off their hands,” Luca said gruffly. “They’re going to love you, just like I do.”
“They’re not going to hate me for living on the opposite side of the country?”
Luca sighed. “Honestly, they’re probably going to be grateful.”
“Really?” Oliver couldn’t quite believe this. Luca worked so hard for his family’s company.
“They want me to fix things, sure, sometimes, but the rest of the time . . .” Luca sighed again, more resigned this time. “The rest of the time I’m sure I annoy them.”
“Well, you don’t annoy me,” Oliver said with a grin.
Luca pressed a kiss to his cheek, and then, only about an hour later, they were descending toward the Oakland airport.
“How long will it take to get to Napa?” Oliver asked as they waited for their baggage. “To your . . .you own a condo, right?” God, this was insane. They barely knew anything about each other.
Except Oliver knew that wasn’t true.
Yeah, they’d only known each other for a few weeks, but he knew Luca well enough to understand he’d never regret picking him. Never regret choosing him.
“About an hour, if there’s not bad traffic. And yes, actually a townhouse, but we’re not going there.” Luca shot him a knowing grin. “We’re going to the restaurant. To Nonna’s.”
“We are?” Oliver had to tamp down his apprehension.
“I texted Nicoletta—my mother—and she said I’d better be bringing you around right away, so that’s what I’m doing.” Luca looked pleased about this turn of events, but Oliver couldn’t deny he was still horribly anxious about it.
Sure, Luca thought it was going to going to go fine, and his family would love him, but what would they say when they realized Oliver meant he wouldn’t be around all the time?
Sure, Luca believed he annoyed them by being underfoot all the time, but the fact Oliver was here at all was proof of how very attractive that could be.
They weren’t going to want to give him up. Oliver sure didn’t want to.
When they picked up Luca’s car in the long-term parking, Oliver was not surprised to see it was an expensive-looking black Mercedes, all leather interior, sleek and elegant. Just like the man himself.
Oliver shot him a look as he climbed into the passenger seat. He was beginning to get a better picture of the man, now that he was out of Indigo Bay. He still loved him, yes, but it was definitely a much more complete view. “You’re rich,” he said.
Luca looked sheepish. “No, no, not rich, not like millionaire rich. Comfortable? Well-off? That deal I made for the sauces, though, it certainly helped my entire family.”
“Which is why you did it.”
“The restaurant business is notoriously fickle,” Luca pointed out as he pulled onto the freeway.
“I wanted something that I knew would give my parents and my siblings a comfortable living forever. And the sales have been good enough, if we have a little slump at one of the restaurants, nobody has to suffer for it.”
Oliver was quiet for a moment. Then Luca added wryly, “It’s not like your mother doesn’t own the biggest building in Indigo Bay.
In which she runs a very successful bed-and-breakfast. It was never empty.
And I heard her telling someone on the phone they usually book up months in advance, especially at the peak times.
I guess I got lucky to get my room so last-minute. ”
He wasn’t wrong. He didn’t own the inn; his mother did. But maybe it would be his, someday.
“True,” Oliver conceded. “But it’s not mine, not yet.”
“But it will be,” Luca pointed out. “Also, not like your bakery is doing poorly. You’re just as much of an entrepreneur as any of us. More so, if we’re counting some of us.” His voice grew dry at the end.
“Tell me about them. Your siblings.”
“Well, you know about Gabe. He’s the middle child, and also the middle child, if you get my drift.
Ren, our cousin, likes to call him the King of Feelings, and that’s sort of saying something, since we’re all emotional by nature already.
Gabe and Ren own the food truck together, down in LA.
But other than that, starting at the top, there’s Marco, who runs the higher-end restaurant, the steakhouse.
He’s the chef and the sort-of manager there. ”
“Sort of?”
Luca shot him a lopsided smile. “I’m supposed to be the manager, but I sort of let him do his own thing. It’s how we keep from killing each other. Marcella, his twin, runs the front of the house at all the restaurants. Then it’s Gabriel. After him is Dario. He’s our accountant.”
“Just the accountant?”
“He’s kinda quiet, especially when you compare him to the others,” Luca said wryly. “But he’s brilliant with numbers. Good kid, Dario.”
“Surely, he’s not a kid anymore.”
“Okay, okay, he’s not a kid. He’s . . .uh . . .” Luca thought about this hard. “Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?”
“I just realized . . .” Oliver trailed off, more than a little embarrassed. He’d told Luca he was willing to blow his whole life up for him, and he didn’t even know how freaking old he was.
“Thirty-five, I’m thirty-five,” Luca said. Shooting him a lopsided smile, like he’d followed that entire train of thought.
“Twenty-nine,” Oliver said, and he couldn’t help laughing. “You’ll be back in town for my big thirtieth birthday bash that my mother keeps insisting on throwing for me. And the best part of that is that she won’t have to show up with a blind date for me anymore.”
“No,” Luca said darkly, “she will not.”
“Awwww, a little jealous?” Oliver teased.
Luca took Oliver’s hand and pressed a hot kiss to his palm. “Not if I’m the only one in your bed and your heart.”
“Damn it, I suppose that hot date I have next week is out,” Oliver joked.
“It’s a good thing you’re really cute.”
“So, the two sisters who live in San Francisco, those are the youngest, after Dario?”
“Yep,” Luca said. “I keep hoping they’ll move back, but they’re probably better where they are.”
Oliver knew how hard that was for him to admit.
“Sometimes, we’ve got to do our own thing for a while,” Oliver said. “My mom was really surprised when I ended up coming back to Indigo Bay. I was so ready to get out of town when I was a teenager. It was right to leave, when I did, and I was right to come back, too.”
“I guess I’m leaving too, now, so I can hardly judge them for doing the same,” Luca admitted.
“You’re making a choice for you, putting you first,” Oliver reminded him gently, “not abandoning your family. I’d never want you to do that.”
“See? This is why they’re going to love you.”
God, Oliver hoped so. He didn’t want to be a source of friction between Luca and his family.
Finally, Luca pulled up to a big building, set back from the road. It was painted a bright pristine white, nearly glowing from the well-lit, impeccably maintained grounds. Nonna’s Fine Italian, it read in elegantly scripted neon letters above the door.
Oliver had seen pictures of their flagship restaurant when he’d looked up the Morettis, but the view when he got out of the car put them totally to shame.
“It’s gorgeous,” Oliver breathed out. And so much bigger than he’d imagined? This was a huge restaurant. Three of Rudy’s could’ve fit in just the parking lot, nevermind the building itself.
The size of Nonna’s shouldn’t have intimidated him, and it didn’t, not really, because Luca was right, he was just as much of a successful business owner as the Morettis, but that didn’t calm the anxiousness currently crawling around in his stomach.
“Thanks.” Luca’s chest puffed out a little in pride, and it turned out Oliver loved that about him, too. His sense of pride in his own and his family’s accomplishments was undeniably attractive. Reaching out, Luca took Oliver’s hand. Squeezed it. “You ready to go in?”
He glanced over at the car window and tried to fix his hair. Not that he really could, but he made an effort.
“Don’t worry, you look amazing,” Luca said. “And I love you. That’s all that matters, in the end.”
Oliver wanted to believe him, but still couldn’t help but worry.
Opening the front door, Luca ushered Oliver inside and for a minute, all Oliver could do was smell and look and feel.
First off, it smelled fucking amazing. Like Giana’s deli had begun to, in the last week, but so much more. Basil and roasted garlic and tomatoes, with the deep rich scent of meat underneath.
Oliver hadn’t expected the restaurant to be so elegant, but it was, with tables and chairs and tall booths all done in a shiny dark wood, the floors just a few shades lighter.
There were trailing green plants and ivy in corners, and old wine bottles stoppered with dripping wax scattered through the arrangements.
The overhead lights were low and there were candles everywhere, reflecting the shine on every surface.
“Natalie,” Luca said, greeting the young woman hovering near the hostess station at the front.
She brightened the moment she saw him. Oliver understood that look. He probably wore it every single time he spotted Luca. “Oh, Mr. Luca, it’s so good to see you. I know your mother missed you. And Mrs. Marcella, too, of course.”