Chapter 7
Francesca
“Eccelente!” Anna exclaimed as she took the first bite. “Francesca, you're a natural.”
Just then, Stefan walked into the kitchen and spotted us. “Smells delicious in here. Is it ready?” he asked, his eyes taking in everything around us. I did my best to clean as we cooked. But the bigger items stacked up. I could do those dishes later, though.
“Soon, soon,” Anna told him as she stabbed another gnocchi. Then she spoke to me. “Next time, we’ll make my sauce with this.” She chewed and then took another piece or two.
“Oh, I'd love that,” I told her. I could only imagine how great her sauce was.
“It takes all day. The sauce needs to simmer for hours. Otherwise,” she shook her head, “it's no good.”
Stefan bent over and picked up the gift bag I'd dropped earlier. I'd been so overcome with emotion that I'd forgotten about it. “She tells the truth. It does take all day.” He grabbed one of the pieces of tissue paper and crumpled it in his big hand.
“Stop!” I jumped out of my chair and ran over to him before he could do any more damage. “Don't do that,” I said, practically panting. I pulled the bag out of his hand. “What are you doing?” I asked, shaking my head.
He looked at me. Perplexed. “Throwing out the garbage.”
My jaw dropped to the ground. “This isn't garbage!” I squeaked. “Look how pretty it is.”
I held out a smooth, shiny piece of white tissue paper. “You don't throw something like this out.”
He looked at me like he was a little unsure of what I might do next. “And what are you going to do with a bag and some paper?”
My arms dropped to my sides. “What am I going to do with the most beautiful gift bag I've ever been given?”
“Okay. Fair enough.” He held out his hands and stepped back. “You keep whatever you need to keep.”
I rolled my eyes and carefully placed the tissue paper back into the bag. Then I put it on the far counter so nothing would happen to it.
When I turned around, Stefan was outside on the patio, opening a bottle of wine, and Anna was plating the gnocchi.
“Grab the garlic bread from the oven, Francesca. Please? Take these bowls, too. I'll bring the salad.”
I did what she asked and walked to the oven. I quickly shoved my hands inside a pair of brightly colored oven mitts. The heat from the oven escaped as I opened it to get the garlic bread. Anna already had a basket with a large cotton napkin liner ready for it.
After I carefully transferred the bread and covered it, I walked outside to the table.
Stefan greeted me with a glass of wine. “Here.” He exchanged the glass for the basket of bread.
“Thanks.” I took a quick sip. It tasted fruity—like strawberries. And maybe peaches.
“I apologize about the bag. I didn't realize you'd want to keep it.”
I shrugged and took another sip, then said, “I'm sorry for freaking out. You just surprised me, that's all.”
He shook his head and looked me up and down. “No need to apologize. You were fucking adorable.”
I rolled my eyes and took another quick sip. “I am not.”
Stefan gave me his devilish smirk. “You made me hard. That's why I came out here so quickly.”
Immediately after he said that—I snorted wine through my nose and started coughing.
Stefan took the glass out of my hand and gave me a napkin for my face.
And then he laughed.
And laughed.
And laughed.
I whipped the napkin at him. “That's not funny.”
But he kept laughing. “I disagree. That was very funny.” Then he pulled me into him. “The way you get so flustered so quickly.” His eyes scanned my face before he leaned in and said, “It makes me hard.” And then he laughed right the heck out loud.
Again.
“You have issues.”
He kissed my lips. “I think we've already established that.” He kissed me again.
“Stefan, let your wife eat. She's been working in the kitchen all afternoon,” Anna chided her son.
I tried to push away from Stefan. “Oh, I'm sorry, Anna. I'll come and help.”
She shook her head and pointed to a chair. “Sit. If this man ever lets you go, that is.” She smiled and turned around.
“I told your mom I'd help. And you're not letting me.”
Instead of letting me go, he kissed me again. “Sit down and eat. She's already halfway to the kitchen.”
He was right.
So, I sat.
After Anna came back with the salad, we started eating. It was such a lovely evening. No one was in a hurry to finish. We talked about many things, like how sick I'd been. She gave Stefan heck for not calling her so she could help us out.
Stefan argued that he didn't want her to get sick, too.
“Nonsense. I haven't been sick in decades,” she'd shot back.
Stefan nodded and agreed, “That's true.” Then he looked up at her. “I promise, the next time Francesca can't stop vomiting, I'll call you immediately.”
His mother swatted him, and we all laughed.
It wasn't long before Stefan opened a second bottle of wine. That one disappeared even faster than the first.
By the time Anna stood and announced it was time for her to go, I was a little taken aback. “Aren't you staying over? It's pretty late. And you've had as much to drink as I have.”
Anna smiled down at me. “I have a driver. But thank you.”
I shook my head and said, “There's more than enough space.” I swung my arm around. “There must be at least a billion bedrooms in this place.”
Anna laughed.
And I laughed.
“I don't have any of my night things. Or my soaps.”
I shrugged and smiled at her. “Giselle and Eve packed me enough soap for a year. And I have plenty of brand-new robes and sleep things. I can toss your clothes in the washing machine while you get ready for bed.”
Stefan cleared his throat. “Francesca's right. We'd love for you to stay the night.”
Anna looked at her son—and her eyes grew wet. Then she looked at me. “I brought along a change of clothes in case something happened in the kitchen. But if you have an extra robe, I'll take it.”