4. Entrapment #2
“Mum,” I whisper-shout and stop her in the kitchen before we make it outside. “Are you setting me up again?” I ask, in Italian this time.
“What? Well… I—She’s just so beautiful, Aiden.” Bellissima, she says.
“Mamma.” She gets my narrowest of angry eyes.
“I know I said I wouldn’t do it after last time,” she says, in English now.
“Three last times, Mum.” Fuck, I hate how hard she’s trying, and it’s not working. Mum’s idea of who I should be with is just not the same as mine. “Aren’t you worried about losing your friends at one point? That one girl was quite sad.”
“Oh, yes. That was unfortunate. She’s fine now, though.”
“Now? That was two short dates over eight weeks ago, and she’s only fine now?” I rub the skin between my eyebrows.
Laughter comes from outside, and Mum grabs my forearm.
“Come on, just have some wine and food. I made focaccia and an antipasto platter you’ll love.”
Now that she says it, I smell the freshly baked focaccia, that hint of rosemary, and my mouth waters.
Taking a deep breath, I walk out behind my sneaky mother and find not just a beautiful, dark-haired young woman, but an elderly couple who I’m guessing are her parents.
Oh, and Aunt Giulia and my mum’s friends that I’ve met before: Debbie and David?
Even for Mum, this is a whole new level of entrapment.
She just graduated from sneaky to diabolical.
Will stands up and shakes my hand. “Good to see you, Aiden.” His voice is deep and raspy, and that crooked Harrison Ford smile makes him look as endearing as he is. He fuels my mother’s light and laughter, and I love the man for it.
“You too, Will.” I pat his back and give him a brief squeeze.
“This is my son, Aiden,” Mum tells the elderly couple sitting next to the young woman. “Aiden, these are our new friends from the tennis club. This is Eros and Sofia Russo, and their daughter, Chiara.”
“Pleasure to meet you all,” I say, and I find in the girl’s eyes the appreciation of my physique I’ve become accustomed to.
But am I an utter spoiled brat if I say I’m tired of this kind of attention? The way she scans my torso, my face. I just want someone to be curious about me before they go all doe-eyed.
I smile in response.
I’ll play nice for the evening. For Mum.
We eat and drink, and the conversation flows easily. Everyone’s perfectly pleasant, and it’s great to see my mother in her element. After my dad died, she had to raise me alone, and she gave me everything she had. All her love, her time, and all the expectations of an exceptional life.
Her laugh reverberates off the brick walls.
Seeing her enjoy life this way after all her hard work is a gift.
The Russos tell us they’ve recently moved westward here to Richmond, got a big house, and moved their Nonna in.
I’ve never met any of my grandparents. Even though I carry my grandfather’s name.
Why did he…? Fuck. Did Dad ever do anything fully?
“What do you do, Chiara?” Mum asks from my side, and her voice pulls me back out from my spiralling thoughts.
Chiara is a lawyer in her early thirties. She seems nice. Laughs a lot. Her eyes and body language speak louder than her words, though. It’s clear that if I wanted to, I’d be able to go home with her tonight to her Chelsea flat that she’s mentioned at least twice in passing.
But I don’t want that. She seems fine, but… I don’t know.
That’s the thing. I want to know.
“Pass me the saucisson, please?” I ask my aunt.
“It’s salami. What’s the matter with you?” she teases.
“Of course, just testing you,” I lie.
Chiara laughs. Big straight teeth and full red lips.
Why am I still thinking about saucissons?
I make it through the night without Mum blatantly proposing marriage on my behalf, and it seems she’s let it go.
But alas, my hopes were too high.
If it’s not Mum, it’s someone else…
“Are you going to give her your number?” Aunt Giulia asks, and it’s just loud enough for Chiara to hear.
She freezes for a beat as she collects her jacket and purse from the coat hanger in the hallway, and it’s like she slows down to give me a chance to do as my aunt says.
Quick. Say something. Don’t embarrass the woman.
There’s nothing wrong with her.
“I’m actually seeing someone?” I mentally punch myself for letting it come out as a question.
“Aiden Aurellan.” Aunt Giulia slaps my upper arm and puts her fists on her ample hips. “You’ve been sitting here all night and you’ve not shared this news with us? With your mother?”
“I didn’t think it right to do so in front of the guests.”
Chiara clears her throat, clearly uncomfortable now.
“I’ll be going. It was lovely to meet you all.”
“Darling, please wait a minute,” Mum tells her, keeping a gentle but decisive hand on Chiara’s forearm. She turns to me. “Aiden, you get her number and you can call her when you’re ready.”
“Mum, I just told you I’m seeing someone.” I insert some more conviction this time.
Mum narrows her eyes at me. “Is she as wonderful as Chiara?”
I glance at Chiara, and she turns her head towards the open front door, muttering something about her parents waiting for her.
“Jesus, Mum, have you had a bit too much wine?” I whisper in Italian, although the Russos will very much understand.
“What’s her name?” Mum asks.
“Who?”
“The woman you’re seeing? Tell me who in the world could suit you better than this fantastic lady right here.”
I open my mouth. What am I supposed to say now?
Sorry, I lied just so I wouldn’t have to take Chiara out?
Her parents have stopped on the steps outside, and even they seem to be waiting in anticipation. This is fucking surreal. Everyone’s drunk and weird.
“Well?” Mum presses, folding her arms across her chest.
“Her name is…” Blue eyes. Blond hair. Cheekbones from heaven. “Linnea.” I relax my shoulders and let out a long breath. “She’s Linnea.”
“I’ve never heard this name,” Mum says, but her voice is softer.
“She’s Norwegian.”
Mum wrinkles her nose. “I don’t know any Norwegians.”
“She moved to Wimbledon when she was sixteen.”
“Does she play tennis?”
I huff. “On occasion.”
“Where did you meet?”
“At work.”
“She works for you?”
“I’m her client, not her boss.” It hits me as I say that, she genuinely needs me now. After Henry took half her company and staff, she must be struggling, and I’m her main client.
“What does she do?” Mum asks, arms loosening.
“She’s a designer. Interior designer.”
“We wish you all the best, Aiden,” Eros finally says, gesturing for his daughter to come with them.
They must have all just stood there, transfixed, while Mum interrogated me. Fuck, this is ridiculous.
“Nice to meet you,” he adds, meeting my gaze before he turns to Mum. “And thank you for the delicious food and wine, Amara.”
“Oh, of course!” She waves at them and gives them all air kisses. “And remember to check out Aiden’s restaurant Millefleuré in Mayfair. He can sort you out. Right, Aiden?”
“Of course, any friend of my mother is my special guest,” I say, grateful Mum has stopped sending people to The Orion. It’s a private membership club after all, which she didn’t seem to understand.
When the Russos are finally gone, I breathe out. I can tell Mum the truth now without hurting Chiara’s feelings.
Mum’s still facing the door, and her shoulders are shaking.
“Mum, are you okay?” I put my hands on the top of her arms, nudging her to turn around.
“I’m just so happy, Aiden.”
“That’s … good? Why are you crying?”
She swipes at her face and lifts her gaze to Will, who shuffles up beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist.
“I’m crying for you. You’ve finally found someone.”
“Uh…”
“The way your face lit up when you said her name, oh, my dear Aiden.” She grabs my hand with one of hers, gesticulating with the other.
“I’m so relieved. I’ve been worried about you.
Dating all these random women like you’re not even trying.
Not getting along with any of the good ones I’ve sent your way.
” She waves her hands wildly before grasping mine again, exhaling.
“I read about you … and so do all my friends.” She scrunches up her mouth the way she used to when I got into trouble at school.
Hold on. She’s disappointed in me?
“Mum.”
“All you do is party and work. What kind of man do you want to be?”
“Alright, take it easy. You don’t have to worry about me.”
I try to let go of her hand, but she grabs the other as well. She’s strong for such a small human.
“No, and now that I’m certain you’ll be okay, Will and I can finally share the news.”
“News?”
“We’re getting married!” she squeals and leans into Will’s sideways embrace, still clutching my hands in hers.
“Wow! Congratulations!”
I turn to Will—he grins from ear to ear, tears forming in his eyes.
“It’ll be at the end of August at Will’s brother’s manor house in Devon,” Mum says.
“This August? In two months?”
“Yes, and we can’t wait to meet your Linnea. Please invite her to that dinner at Brunswick Nurseries next weekend, will you? Now I can finally tell everyone it’s actually our engagement party.”
Oh shit. Now I’ve absolutely put my foot in it.