Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
GIOVANNI
I have to prepare for a major fall event, make the best apple pie in existence, and interview for a major morning show, all within a few days of my grandmother breaking her wrist. No big deal.
The thought nearly makes me laugh. But yeah, fuck…
“You look very serious,” Bianca comments, lifting one corner of her mouth into a half smile.
We’re sitting at the kitchen table with our coffee. It’s ridiculously early, but Bianca goes to work early, so I got up to make her breakfast. I wasn’t sleeping anyway, to be perfectly honest.
Janine texted me yesterday to say she’d retracted her story and wanted nothing to do with me or any of the weird people I hung around with ever again. Doesn’t matter, though. I’m still worried I’ll be asked something about her alleged baby.
“I guess I’m feeling very serious,” I admit.
“I could drive you to California, and we could pick oranges and lose ourselves in each other,” she says with a smile, echoing the offer I made her a while back.
I pull her onto my lap. “Don’t threaten me with a good time. I’d like to get away with you.”
“Let’s give your grandmother six weeks to rebound. Maybe we can go on a Christmas cruise and take the whole book club with us.”
I turn her around to face me. “I think you’re kidding,” I say, “but I kind of want to do it. Can you imagine? We’d have to find an adults-only cruise. I don’t think children would understand the Dong of Discussion.”
She grins at me. “Yes, I can see it now. Realistically, the nonnas aren’t going to let us leave them on Christmas, though. That’s not happening.”
I snort, feeling the truth of this in my bones.
They’re sitting in the sunroom right now, talking in low voices. Nonna’s going in later today to get that X-ray done, possibly to get a cast, but she insists it doesn’t hurt much. Knowing her, she’ll probably try to start cooking and moving furniture within the next few days.
“Your family can all come here again for Christmas,” she says.
Most of my siblings have already made plans to travel to Apple Ridge for Thanksgiving, except for Aria, who couldn’t get the time off work.
I smile at the thought of having them all here for Christmas. There’s something magical about a Christmas tree farm during the holidays.
“Enzo will want to pick out the tree,” I warn her. “He likes being in charge.”
“He and Theo can flip for it.”
“I’d like that,” I say. “So we’ll go on the cruise in January.” I stroke her hair, already feeling considerably better. “Maybe the cruise line would sponsor us.”
I pause before continuing. “I want us to run The Rotten Apple together. I think we could do a hell of a lot better than Mr. Mayor. I was thinking maybe you could use the money from Kitty’s fund to buy the building next door.
We could use it to run community enrichment classes for senior citizens and kids. Maybe offer pro bono cooking classes.”
She nestles her head in my neck. “I love you so much, but he’ll never sell it to us, and you know the money’s tied up in probate.”
“I’ve got a plan, amore mio.”
She pulls back and gives me an incredulous look. “What have you been up to?”
“Wheeling and dealing. I learned it from my big brother, so you can blame him. Or Whit. That kid has more business smarts at eleven than I do at thirty.”
“Have you talked to Rhett?”
I nod. “And we’ve come to an agreement.”
“Giovanni.”
I run a comforting hand over her back. “I didn’t give up anything I don’t mind losing, and he’s not getting everything he wants. He only thinks he is.”
She gives me a weighing look. “Are you going to tell me what you agreed to?”
Might as well. She’ll find out soon enough.
“I’m going to lose the apple pie contest in front of everyone. Boo-hoo, it’s going to be very embarrassing for me.”
She’s silent for several long seconds before she bursts. “Giovanni! We’ve spent the last two weeks trying to make the perfect apple pie. Luanne’s going to murder you.”
“We’re still going to make the pie.” I tuck her bangs behind her ear. “He’s going to win, but he’s going to do it with his inferior pie. God knows, that’s the only way that man will ever win anything.”
“But I don’t want him to win.”
“He’s going to lose what matters most, cara mia. If he were a smart man, he’d realize he already has. But he’s agreed to sell The Rotten Apple to me and to stop fighting Kitty’s will.”
“All you have to do is lose a stupid apple pie bake-off?” she asks, shaking her head incredulously. “He’s an idiot.”
“Absolutely, and thank God.”
She hesitates before saying, “But Giovanni, you must have made those arrangements before you knew you were staying.”
I shrug, trying to play it off as if it’s nothing. “You would have still been here. If there’s anyone I’d trust as a business partner, it’s you.”
She kisses me, and I feel pretty fucking lucky for a chef who’s about to throw a baking contest.
“ I’m going over there after the interview today to get our agreement in writing,” I tell her. “He wants everything on camera too, so his victory will be part of my show. Like I said, I don’t give a shit. I’m getting what matters.”
She pushes her bottom lip out a little. “It still makes me sick to think of him getting anything.”
“Will it make you feel better if you know I’m not done with him?”
She perks up. “Tell me more.”
I explain the rest of my plan, formed only over the past couple of days, and by the time I finish, she’s grinning. It’s a smile that would launch a thousand fucking ships, no doubt about that.
But then she hesitates, her brows knitting together.
“What is it?” I ask softly, tracing the furrow between them.
“It’s just…” She claps my arm. “Do you really want to do that? Are you so sure you’re staying?”
“I’ll be here as long as you’ll let me.”
“Then you’ll be here forever.”
My heart overflows with raw emotion. I pull Bianca into my arms and hold her close, so honored to have her trust. Our bodies are pressed tightly together, and I feel the buzz of the phone in her pocket under my hand.
“So I hope you forgive me for not warning you,” Bianca adds.
I tug back, surprised. “Warning me?”
She smiles just as a knock lands on the front door. “Why don’t you go open that, Mr. October?”
She holds up a finger, signaling for me to wait, then reaches across the table into the bag she prepared for work and removes my “Smut Slut” hat, which she settles onto my head.
I’m already wearing one of Helen’s shirts—the better to get out our message and get more funding for The Rotten Apple.
Already, we’ve made enough to completely transform the backyard and add more entertainment options to the rec area.
“They need to get the full picture,” Bianca says, angling the hat to her satisfaction.
“You think the cameramen are out there?” I ask, my blood pumping fast.
“I know they are.” She hesitates before adding, “That text was from your agent. She and I have been talking.”
“Uh-oh.”
She kisses me softly, then gets off my lap and tugs me to my feet.
We walk to the front door together, but when I open it, I see my brothers, Enzo and Nico, grinning smugly at me.
“I’ve been talking to you both nonstop, and you never said a word, you assholes!” I crow, slapping them on their backs.
And behind them…
Well, holy shit.
I glance at Bianca in astonishment, and she winks at me.
Standing behind my brothers is one of the actual anchors of Good Day USA, Ella Williams, along with a couple of cameramen who are filming my every move.
“The Shirtless Chef himself,” the anchor says with a toothy grin, and Nico points to my shirt.
“You got some of those for us?”
I grin at him. “Yeah, and I got hats for you too.”
Turns out the show offered to fly my brothers in at the last minute, and my agent begged Bianca not to tell me so they could get my genuine reaction on camera.
Minus the swearing, which they’ll have to edit out.
After the initial shock of their arrival wears off, my brothers and I sit down with Ella for an interview in the farmhouse dining room.
The three of us tell Ella all about our grandparents, Hidden Italy, and Nonna’s stories from the Old Country, and then Ella and I make eggplant parmigiana subs, with ingredients Bianca must have purchased on the sly.
Afterward, my brothers and Bianca join us for lunch in front of the cameras, and Ella asks Bianca and me about our love story.
I grin at Bianca. “She was the first girl I ever kissed, but she still doesn’t believe me about that.”
Bianca’s lips part. “You were being serious?”
“See what I mean?” I raise my brow at Ella, who’s watching us with an indulgent smile. “And earlier this month, she told her friends it was the worst kiss she ever had—”
Nico crows with laughter at that and reaches across the table to give Bianca a high five.
“No way,” she says. “I can’t high-five you over that. My loyalty lies with your brother.”
I nudge her with my leg. “Give it to him, cara mia. He won’t stop unless you do. He’s like a golden retriever.”
Bianca rolls her eyes and high-fives him.
Ella laughs, clearly delighted by the good TV we’re providing, and asks me, “So you convinced her to give you another try?”
“I did, thank God. No one wants to hear that the prettiest girl they’ve ever kissed wasn’t impressed.”
“And I presume he did better the second time?” Ella asks Bianca.
Bianca fans her face, and my brothers both enjoy laughing at me, and my God, I’m a happy man.
We knew going into this interview that it was time to air out all of our secrets. So we talk about the hard stuff too. Miles’s accident and the apple fight heard around the county. Because we know that’s what’ll help us successfully take control of the map.
Emily will be proud.
Twenty-four hours later, my pie is baked. The scene is set. The tent that’s been in use as the pumpkin patch has been transformed into the “tasting pavilion” for the pies, and the barn we’ve been using to store the wagon is the site of the petting zoo.