The Italian's Doorstep Surprise

by Jennie Lucas

  As marrying Honora wouldn’t be. The thought made her feel small.

  “But still—” she tried to keep her voice casual “—you’ve dated lots of other women since we were together.”

  His forehead creased as he glanced at her in surprise. “Why do you think that?”

  “Because you’re so handsome and...” She caught herself, biting her lip hard. She couldn’t seem to stop making a fool of herself. “Are you saying you haven’t?”

  Nico gave a low laugh. “I told you how I spent my time in Rome. Dating was the furthest thing from my mind. All I did was work.” Changing gears, he looked at her. “Until you told me you were pregnant, and changed my life.”

  As they came out of the Midtown Tunnel into Queens, she gave him her grandfather’s address. Heads turned as the Lamborghini passed by. Millionaires didn’t live here in their sterile high-rises, like in Manhattan. Instead, this neighborhood was filled with small businesses and interesting neighbors, with streets rich with color and life. Before her parents had died, she’d lived in a small apartment around the block.

  When he found a place to park along the street, four children, playing nearby on their scooters, came closer with big eyes.

  “Keep an eye on my car, will you?” As Nico got out of the vehicle, he gave the little girl in front a friendly smile. “I’ll pay you twenty dollars.”

  “Each?” demanded the lead kid, folding her arms. Nico gave a single nod, one CEO to another.

  “You got it.”

  “Oh, hey, Honora,” the girl said as Nico helped her out of the passenger seat.

  “Hey, Luna.”

  “This guy your friend?”

  Honora glanced at Nico. Friend seemed much nicer than baby daddy. “Yes, my friend.”

  “Hang on.” The little girl huddled up with her friends, and then announced to Nico grandly, “We’ll watch your car for free.”

  “Thanks,” he said, amused. As the two of them walked down the sidewalk, he looked at Honora. “They think highly of you.”

  She gave a shrug. “I help them with homework. Buy them Popsicles when it’s hot. Last month, I helped Luna find her lost cat.” She smiled at the memory. “We looked for hours, then found her hiding in a tree across the street.”

  Nico looked at her gravely. “Your friendship is a good thing to have.”

  She felt her cheeks go hot. “It’s no big deal. Anyone would have done it.” She cleared her throat. “The apartment’s just up here.”

  Her grandfather’s two-bedroom apartment was above a pizza shop on the avenue. She punched in the code, and once inside, they went up the stairs.

  As she reached into her purse to get out the key, the apartment door suddenly opened in front of her. Her gray-bearded grandfather stood inside the doorway. He was still in his morning robe, though it was late afternoon.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  “Mrs. Kowalczyk?” Honora gasped at sight of the sweet widowed lady who owned the flower shop where Honora worked part-time. “What are you doing here? Er...?”

  Even to her innocent mind, it was obvious what Phyllis Kowalczyk had been doing. The plump, white-haired woman looked flushed and disheveled, as if she’d dressed in a hurry, with the buttons of her yellow blouse done up in the wrong places. The older couple stared back at them in shock, their cheeks red.

  “How did you get here so fast?” her grandfather demanded indignantly. “You must have broken the speed limit!”

  “Patrick,” Phyllis said quietly, “you might as well tell them.”

  Her grandfather sighed. “Fine.” Waving them inside, he led them into the tiny living room, with a window directly over the pizza shop’s neon sign. “You should sit down.”

  Staring at her grandfather, Honora thought she had better. She fell heavily into the small, slightly saggy sofa. Nico sat beside her, neither of them touching.

  Across from them, Patrick sat in his old chair and Phyllis in the chair beside him. They glanced at each other, smiling tenderly.

  Holding her breath, Honora looked between them. “Are the two of you...?”

  Patrick Burke looked proud and shy all at once, puffing out his chest like a teenager. “I’ve asked Phyllis to marry me.”

  Honora blinked, feeling dizzy. “I didn’t even know you were dating.”

  “We weren’t,” Phyllis said. “We met sometimes in the shop, and around the neighborhood over the years. I fell hard.” She looked at him. “But he wasn’t free to be in a relationship. Not when you needed him.”

  Honora turned to her grandfather, flabbergasted. “I did?”

  Patrick looked embarrassed. “My duty was to you, Honora. You’d already been through so much. I couldn’t bring someone else into our apartment, into our lives. I couldn’t be in a relationship. Especially when you were pregnant and alone.” His wrinkled face lit up. “But when Nico agreed to take responsibility last night, and with the two of you starting a family of your own...” His eyes looked dreamy as he turned to Phyllis. “Now I’m free.”

  Honora felt an ache in her throat. It was just as she’d thought. She’d been a burden, keeping her grandfather from living the life he wanted. “I never meant to...”

  “First thing I did when I got back here last night was tell Phyllis I loved her.” Patrick looked at Phyllis. “I’d wanted to say it for so long.”

  “I know,” Phyllis said, reaching out for his hand. “I know.”

  Honora stared at the grandfather who’d raised her. She barely recognized him in this moment.

  “You love her?” she whispered. Granddad had never said those words to her, not once, not even when she was a child. She felt suddenly more alone than she ever had. Taking a deep breath, she pasted a happy smile on her face. “So you’re moving in together?”

  “Moving in?” Patrick looked shocked. “Like a couple of hippies? My intentions are honorable!” he protested, then gave Phyllis a sly glance. “Though last night, one thing led to another. This afternoon, too...”

  “Patrick!” Phyllis was blushing. “Stop!”

  “Anyways...” He cleared his throat with a harrumph. “We got the license this morning. We’re getting married tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Don’t worry, dear,” Phyllis said kindly. “We won’t steal your thunder. We’re going down to city hall. No big ceremony or fuss. Just a couple of witnesses, then we’ll leave on our honeymoon.”

  “Which is more to the point.” Patrick grinned. She gave him a mock glare.

  “I’d signed up for a horticulture cruise,” Phyllis rushed to explain. “Two weeks down the coast, and it leaves tomorrow night. We’re going to take it together, as a honeymoon.”

  “It all seems so fast.” Honora’s voice was a little hoarse.

  “Not fast enough.” Her grandfather looked at Phyllis. “We’d be married already if it weren’t for the twenty-four-hour waiting period.”

  The older woman turned to Honora. “But listen to us going on and on about ourselves. I haven’t congratulated you on your engagement, dear.” She smiled broadly. “Such happy news. And don’t worry—” she held up her hand “—I’ve already replaced you at the store.”

  “I told her I’ll work for free,” Patrick chortled.

  Honora stared at him in shock. “You’re leaving the rooftop garden? But it’s your passion!”

  He shook his head. “Honestly, the way my arthritis has been acting up in winter, I was ready to try something new. Besides, Phyllis is my passion now, and she says life begins at seventy.”

  “It does,” she agreed. He looked at her.

  “Letting myself love you has already changed me,” he said quietly. “It’s let the light in.”

  He suddenly seemed younger than Honora, in spite of all his gray hair. And she saw it all clearly.

  For thirteen years, h
e’d given up his own dreams to take care of his grandchild. Even after Honora had become an adult, he’d still had to put her first. After being widowed for decades, he’d pushed away the woman he loved. He’d obviously thought he had no choice, since Honora had only had a part-time job, no apartment of her own, and then to top it off, she’d accidentally gotten pregnant.

  She’d known she was a burden. She just hadn’t realized how much of one. She felt sick with shame.

  “I guess I’ll need a new gardener,” Nico said dryly.

  “Yup.”

  “Probably for the best,” he responded. “Though I’ll never find another gardener who can coax daffodils so well.”

  Patrick grinned. “No, that you won’t.”

  “Darling,” Phyllis said, “I need to go check on the shop—”

  “Right.” He abruptly stood up. “And I’m sure you two have places to be.” Tilting his head, Patrick said to Honora, “So did you set a date?”

  Rising in his turn, Nico cleared his throat. “Actually, I should tell you, we—”

  Grabbing his hand, Honora squeezed it. “We’ll wait to get married until you return from your honeymoon.”

  She stared hard at Nico, willing him to play along.

  “Yes,” he said. “In two weeks.”

  “Perfect.” The older couple beamed at them.

  “I’ll say goodbye, then,” Nico said to Honora, and started to leave. But as he did, Phyllis elbowed her grandfather in the ribs.

  “Right. The thing is,” Patrick said, “Phyllis is having her apartment painted, so she’ll be staying here tonight. Even though it’s not strictly proper.” His cheeks were pink as he cleared his throat. “You’re very welcome to stay too, of course, Honora. At least until you move in with Nico after your marriage.”

  It was like being a deer and seeing the approaching headlights of the car that was about to hit you. She stared at her grandfather, frozen.

  He smiled. “But I thought...why make you pretend? I’m sure you’d rather stay at the penthouse immediately. I can’t fool myself that you’re not sleeping together, not when...” His eyes fell briefly on Honora’s belly. “So if you’d rather...”

  “But of course, you’ll always be welcome here, dear,” Phyllis added. “It’s your home.”

  “Thanks.” This place had been Honora’s home, but it suddenly wasn’t anymore. The thought of staying here, butting in on their love affair, being a burden, feeling like an outsider...

  “You’re right, Granddad.” She forced herself to smile. “The truth is, if you don’t mind, I’d rather stay with Nico tonight.”

  The other couple looked relieved.

  “I figured. And I can hardly criticize you for impropriety, can I?” her grandfather said with a sheepish grin. Then he blinked, reaching to squeeze her hand. “I’m so happy for both of us, Honora.” His eyes wandered to his fiancée. “Have you ever felt this way before?”

  Honora looked up at Nico, who was watching her with dark, inscrutable eyes.

  “Never,” she whispered.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “THANKS FOR NOT blowing my cover,” Honora said as he packed her small overnight bag into the Lamborghini, then helped her into the car. “I’ll tell them the truth after they’re back from the honeymoon.”

  “I’m glad to have you stay with me tonight,” Nico said honestly. It had been a lucky break, he thought. And with a little more luck, by the time Patrick and Phyllis returned from their honeymoon, the fake engagement would be a real one.

  “Do you mind dropping me off at a hotel?” she asked as he got into the driver’s seat.

  He looked at her. “Hotel?”

  “Just for one night, until they’re safely married and away.” Her green eyes looked sad. “Otherwise he might cancel his wedding if he thinks he’s still stuck with me.”

  He frowned. What a strange way to put it. “Stuck with you?”

  She looked out the window at the dark city, lights sparkling hollowly against the glass. “I’ll figure something out by the time they’re back. Find a new place to live.”

  “Or come live with me.”

  “And I’ll need a new job,” she said, as if she hadn’t heard. She gave him a crooked smile. “You need a new gardener for your rooftop terrace.”

  He snorted. “You’re the mother of my child. I’m not hiring you as a gardener.”

  Honora looked at him, then sighed. “I guess you’re right. It would be awkward. But I need to do something. Two weeks isn’t very long.”

  “I’ll always provide for you, Honora. You and the baby both.”

  Her green eyes looked sad. “Thank you, but the last thing I want to be is a burden.”

  Was she serious? “You’re not—”

  “And I know you promised Granddad you’d come tomorrow and be a witness at their wedding, but you don’t have to. I can ask Benny instead.”

  Nico’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Rossini?”

  “He’s a friend,” she said, a little defensively.

  Friend or not, Nico made a mental note to tell his residential staffing manager, Sergio, to reassign the young chauffeur to a different job on the other side of the world. He didn’t care what or where, as long as he wasn’t around Honora.

  Nico protected what was his. And she was his.

  He just needed more time to convince her of that.

  “Are you hungry?” he suggested suddenly.

  She grinned. “I’m pregnant. I’m always hungry.”

  “How about Au Poivre?”

  She looked at him incredulously. “That fancy place downtown?”

  “They make a good steak.”

  Honora snorted. “Sure, if you don’t mind paying two hundred bucks for it. And don’t you have to book a table six months in advance?”

  “What sounds good to you, if not steak?”

  She pondered. “Chicken potpie?”

  “The owner’s a friend of mine.” He pulled out his phone. “I’ll tell him we’re on the way.”

  Thirty minutes later, as a valet whisked away the Lamborghini, Nico escorted her into the restaurant, which was decorated in an old French country style, with worn brick walls and heavy timber braces across the ceiling. The owner himself escorted them to a prime table beside the tall, rustic French fireplace, which, since it was July, was filled with a cluster of lit candles instead of a roaring fire.

  “I am glad to see you again, Mr. Ferraro,” the man said warmly. “I’ll never forget how you moved heaven and earth to settle our real estate dispute.”

  Nico felt embarrassed. “I pointed you in the right direction, that’s all. The right lawyer...”

  “Not only that, you paid for it. We never would have survived lockdown if not for your investment.”

  Honora was looking between them with big eyes. Nico was ready for this conversation to be over. He cleared his throat. “You make the best steak in New York.”

  “Thank you.” The owner beamed at him, then turned to Honora. “My chef is already preparing your chicken potpie, madame.”

  “You’re too kind.” Now she was the one to look embarrassed. “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”

  “No trouble, no trouble at all, madame. For a friend of Mr. Ferraro, our menu has no end. But I fear it will take a bit of time to prepare. I am so sorry. I’ll bring an appetizer while you wait.” He bowed, then turned to Nico. “Your usual Scotch?”

  “I’ll have sparkling water tonight.”

  “Of course. And the lady?”

  “The same,” she said, surprised. The man departed with another bow. She looked at Nico. “Are you trying to impress me? If you are, it’s working.”

  He shrugged. “I did the restaurant a very small service, and invested a little money. It was nothing...”

  “I mean that
you’ve stopped drinking.” Their eyes met across the small candlelit table.

  “You suggested I stop,” he said gruffly. “I was smart enough to take that advice.”

  “Why would you care what I think?”

  His voice was quiet. “Your opinion matters a great deal.”

  Honora’s eyes were wide as waiters brought sparkling water to the table, along with an amuse-bouche of fig, walnut and goat cheese wrapped with prosciutto.

  As Nico sipped the water, Honora reached for one of the appetizers, then froze. Leaning forward across the table, she whispered, “People are staring at us.”

  Looking around, he saw well-heeled patrons at the other tables watching them, some surreptitiously, others openly. Turning back to Honora, he shrugged. “It happens. Don’t worry about it.”

  She looked down at her white sundress and sandals in dismay. “Is it because I’m not dressed up?”

  “People are always interested in the women I date,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Her blush deepened as her lips parted. “But you and I...we’re not dating!”

  “They don’t know that.” Looking at her in the candlelight, he added quietly, “And neither do I.”

  Biting her lip, she looked up at him with big eyes, her lovely face stricken. She leaned back in her chair. Her hand seemed to tremble as she reached for her water glass and took a long drink.

  “This place is beautiful inside,” she said finally. “It feels almost medieval.”

  “Not quite. That wall over there—” he nodded towards an exposed brick wall “—dates back to when the city was New Amsterdam. I celebrated making my first million here, after I moved to New York. The architecture reminded me of Europe. I liked it.”

  “Because you were born there?” At his surprised look, she smiled. “The housekeeper told me. I have been in your life for over ten years, even if you didn’t notice.”

  Nico wondered now how it was possible that he’d never noticed his gardener’s granddaughter. Looking at Honora now, here, in the body-skimming sundress with thin straps that revealed her full pregnant glory, she looked intoxicatingly beautiful, her dark hair tumbling over bare shoulders. Her big eyes shone in the candlelight.