Home for the Holidays: A Contemporary Romance Anthology

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Home for the Holidays: A Contemporary Romance Anthology Page 66

by Christine Bell


  Isla wasn’t sure if Arturo had left yet, and she didn’t want to text him to ask. She didn’t want to come off as pressuring him.

  Just as Isla’s smile started to waver, Orlando was the first to get to his feet and plaster on a fake smile of his own. “Well, we’re still here, and the food smells amazing. You both did a fantastic job and I wouldn’t want any of this to be wasted.” Orlando looked up at all the decorations Isla had placed around the sitting room, no doubt thinking of the rest of the house as well.

  “To be fair, Martina did most of the decorations. And the cooking. I was just her helper.”

  Martina nodded her head. “You were a wonderful helper, Miss Isla.”

  Isla still beamed at that. Even though Martina had to put Isla on potato peeling duty, it was still nice to be complimented by her. Anything that could be boiled and mashed or opened with a can opener, Isla had been on top of that. Otherwise, Martina maintained that she hadn’t wanted Isla doing much at all. Isla had offered to put the turkey on the carving plate, but Martina had promptly declined the offer.

  Now the food was waiting for them in the dining room, and Martina was here to escort them.

  “Come, it’s time to eat. You will all waste away and then what will I do?” Martina said, her tone mock annoyed.

  Isla was annoyed herself. At Sebastian for being too stubborn to get here, at Arturo for being stuck at the office, and strangely enough, at the food as well.

  That lasted a grand total of two seconds before it melted away. Now she was glad, seeing the eager expressions on Orlando’s and Silvio’s faces as the four of them walked to the dining room. With Martina doing all the spice and oven work, it was basically guaranteed that the food wouldn’t be dry, burned, or over spiced.

  Isla was glad in that moment that she hadn’t been given too much to do. She would have ruined the meal, and Silvio was making Martina blush as he told her about how much he missed her cooking and couldn’t wait to eat her food anymore.

  Martina put her hand over her mouth as she tried to hide her embarrassed smiles and chuckles.

  Isla’s heart warmed to see that. This was Arturo’s family. As broken as it could be, she wanted to be good to them. She wanted to impress them, and wanted them to love her. Maybe not as much as she loved Arturo, but she wanted that bond to be there.

  Which was why, when they made it to the softly lit dining room, she also pulled out Orlando’s chair before he could sit down.

  He blinked at her, clearly not having seen the move coming before he smiled and went with it. “You’re really going all out on this aren’t you?”

  She nodded. “You’d better believe it.”

  Silvio yanked out his chair and quickly slid into it before Martina could even think of pulling his chair out.

  The older woman shook her head at him. Silvio simply smiled sweetly up at the older woman. “What did I do, Martina?”

  “Being a pest is what you are doing. Miss Isla? Where are you going?”

  “I’ll be back!”

  She’d hoped Martina wouldn’t notice her sneaking away and that Silvio would be enough of a distraction. Nothing got by her.

  Of course Martina didn’t hold still, she followed Isla into the kitchen where all the food had already been plated over hot plates on little dollies with metal trays. It was the kind of thing that looked as if it belonged in a five star restaurant.

  Martina frowned. “Miss Isla, I should do this.”

  Isla should have known she wouldn’t be able to sneak off and bring the food in before Martina noticed. There was more than one food cart, so Isla would have needed to make two trips anyway. A third for the rest of the beverages.

  “I’m helping you out,” Isla said. “My mother would kill me if I didn’t, and it’s to make up for being a terrible helper with the cooking.”

  She was already pushing the cart towards the door. Martina didn’t make an attempt to stand in her way, but the worry on her face was clear, and it vibrated around her. “I know things are different in your home, but you must allow me to do this. This is my job.”

  “And you’re amazing at it. Arturo wouldn’t get you in trouble for this.”

  Which was absolutely true. He wouldn’t. In fact, Isla was convinced the only reason why Martina was so remarkable in her job was because of the way she’d mothered the three brothers for as long as she’d been able to. She had to know Arturo would never let her go for something so trivial. She could mouth off to Arturo if she wanted and her job would still be secure.

  Martina sighed. Isla didn’t look back, but she knew the other woman followed her with the other cart back into the dining room where Silvio and Orlando were waiting.

  Silvio had a guilty expression on his face for not being enough of a distraction. Isla mouthed to him that it was all right.

  Orlando tucked his phone away quickly at the sight of them. Maybe there had been a strict no texting rule back when he’d still lived in this house with his father and stepmother. Arturo texted and read at the table all the time, but he was as different from Orlando as the responsibilities he carried.

  Silvio clapped his hands together “Wow, I thought it smelled good before. That smells amazing.”

  “You think so?” Isla nearly pulled the lid off the turkey, but this had definitely been Martina’s baby, so she gestured for the other woman to step closer. “Would you like the honors?”

  Martina smiled, and if Isla wasn’t mistaken, there was even a small blush dusting at her cheeks as she nodded and approached the bird. She picked up the carving knives, clearly in her element here as she lifted the lid.

  Despite the amount of time they had waited, everything felt as fresh as could be. A cloud of steam wafted away from the meat, and Orlando and Silvio both made the appropriate oohing and aahing noises required when they were very impressed with the meal they were about to get.

  Isla grinned, and while Martina carved slices off the bird, the meat so juicy and tender it looked as if she was carving slices of butter, Isla focused on scooping out mashed potatoes and plating her, Orlando’s and Silvio’s plate.

  She also plated one more. Putting a nice helping of mashed potatoes, stuffing, and that turnip and carrot mix that Martina had thrown together. She made sure not to forget the cranberry sauce. Martina must have noticed. As Isla began buttering the rolls, she noted the slight frown that furrowed the older woman’s brow. “Is Arturo returning home sooner than we thought?”

  Isla nearly licked butter from her thumb before she realized what she was doing and stopped herself. Polite company required napkins after all.

  Isla shook her head. “One could only hope, but probably not in this weather.”

  Martina’s eyes widened slightly, a glimmer of hope shining there. “Then, Sebastian?”

  Now Isla felt like a complete asshole. “No, he didn’t respond to any of my texts or calls.”

  “Oh.” The hope faded away.

  Orlando quickly chimed in. “It’s okay if he’s not here.”

  Isla frowned. “It is?”

  Silvio was apparently just as confused. “Yeah, I thought the whole point of this was to make friends with the asshole?”

  Orlando gave Silvio a dirty look. Silvio shrugged. “Just saying.”

  “Well I’m just saying that it’s okay. Martina, it’s okay. The point is that Sebastian got an invitation. The next time we do anything like this, we’ll send him another invite, too. He’ll know the door is open, and he’ll show up when he’s ready. Until then, we keep leaving the door open for him.”

  That sounded so utterly profound and wise that there wasn’t a damned thing Isla could think of to say against it. Arturo would tell her it was because she was too hopeful, but Isla wanted to keep hoping. She wanted this family to be repaired from how their selfish mother and asshole father had left things.

  “Those are kind things to say, and I’m glad you think that way,” Martina said. “But I do not understand. Why the extra plate? If you wrap i
t like that, it will not retain its flavor. It needs to stay with the rest of the food for now.”

  Isla couldn’t stop smiling, and she nodded to the two Calendri brothers at the table. “Which one of you wants to tell her?”

  “It was your idea,” Silvio said, the smile on his face telling how much he was enjoying himself.

  “You guys helped a bit.”

  “I do not understand,” Martina said, looking at both brothers, awaiting an answer from them.

  Orlando stirred his fork into his mashed potatoes and gravy, grinning the most wicked, cat with the cream grin she’d ever seen on his gentle face. “That’s your spot, Martina.”

  The older woman blinked those big dark eyes at Orlando before looking down at the plate Isla was preparing for her. Her response seemed a little delayed, but was also predictable as she stepped away. Her hands rushed to her chest and she shook her head. “No! I couldn’t!”

  “Yes you could.” Isla took some wine and started pouring Martina a glass. She set it down next to the ten pieces of expensive silverware on either side of the gold rimmed plate before stepping towards Martina, the biggest smile on her face that Isla could muster. This time it was real. “You’re practically their mother. Sit down and have a Christmas dinner with us.”

  “I would never presume to be their mother.”

  Martina seemed frozen, so Isla put her hands on the other woman’s shoulders, gently leading her towards the seat she’d set out for her.

  “You don’t have to presume anything. It’s how they feel about you already.”

  Martina walked, but it seemed to be more on a horrified autopilot than anything else.

  Isla was struck with a brief second of regret. Shit. Maybe Martina really wasn’t the type who would allow this sort of thing to happen. She might actually feel too put off, too much of an outsider from the family she’d raised for this.

  But then Silvio grinned in Martina’s direction, and when Isla managed to get the other woman to sit, he reached out and grabbed her hand before she could get up and walk away. “That’s your seat. We want you here.”

  Color flooded up Martina’s neck as she glanced at Orlando, who nodded. “Isla didn’t just put this together for us. This is for you, too. You’re practically my mother. I want you to sit there. You never could do that before.”

  Martina’s chest seemed to constrict when she heard such words, then she suddenly gasped for breath. She looked back up at Isla, and Isla’s eyes started to burn when she noted how Martina’s dark orbs were swimming.

  “Stop it, you’re going to make me cry.” Isla wiped her fingers under her eyelids, trying desperately to keep from touching and ruining her makeup. Much as Isla just wanted to let go, she didn’t want to have raccoon eyes either.

  Martina laughed at that, in the way that was funny when someone was surprised, and the people around them were happy right along with them. She laughed, and then she cried a little harder, covering her face with her hands.

  Orlando and Silvio both stood, as if getting ready to go to her. Martina shook her head. “I’m fine. I’m very well.” The way her voice cracked would have said different, had it not been for the way she smiled. “Thank you for all of this.”

  Orlando and Silvio both sat, though Silvio reached out and took Martina’s hand again, squeezing it tight. “You sure you’re all right?”

  Martina nodded. “This was a lovely surprise.”

  Martina shocked Isla by reaching back for her, taking her by the hand as well. “Thank you for this.”

  Warmth rushed into Isla’s chest, and just like that, it was all worth it. The secrecy, the planning, all of it. The only thing that would have made this any better was if Arturo could be here.

  He wasn’t here. That was fine. This was Arturo’s family, and she was going to make the most of this.

  Isla swallowed hard. “You’re very welcome. Now sit tight, I’ll get some turkey on your plate.”

  Martina nearly got to her feet to do it herself, but Isla shushed her and made her stay in her seat. “You do enough all the time. Let someone else serve you for once.”

  “Uh oh, that’s a tough one, Martina,” Silvio singsonged.

  Martina smiled, still bashful as she allowed Isla to put some of that heavenly smelling protein on her plate, thanking Isla softly, but then smiling at her boys.

  Isla watched the other woman from the corner of her eye, desperately trying to hold back a smile, but she ultimately needed to pick up the wine glass to cover her mouth before anyone saw it.

  This was probably the first time Martina had ever been able to sit down with her boys, and it was amazing being able to see it. Isla couldn’t name the giddy excitement swirling inside her, but it was there, and she had helped to bring this out.

  Okay, so she was totally proud of herself, but considering how well this had gone down, how could she not be proud?

  Orlando buttered some bread and passed it across the table to Martina, who smiled much brighter now, taking the roll while Silvio told some dirty jokes, and laughing when Martina slapped him on the arm.

  “Don’t say that at the table!”

  Silvio continued to chuckle like a fifteen year old caught doing something naughty. They were all so into this. So into acting like a normal family that Isla had to wonder how long Orlando and Silvio had been waiting for this as well.

  Arturo was missing it.

  Isla shoved away the regret in her gut. It didn’t matter. It really didn’t. Arturo was a big boy, and when he got home, Martina was sure to show him all the love and affection that was due to him for his part in this as well.

  Silvio pointed his fork down at his plate. “So are we saving some of this for Arturo or am I going to be eating it all?” He was clearly implying the rest of the food on the trollies, but seemed to be half serious.

  Orlando glared at his brother. “Obviously we can’t finish it all off, idiot.”

  “Maybe you can’t. I can eat whatever the hell I want. I’ve got amazing metabolism.”

  Orlando grinned at his brother, but something glinted in his eyes. “Uh huh, not like you’re getting old and that could fade away.”

  “Never gonna happen.”

  “Hey Isla, you should tell your friend Jane how fat Silvio’s been getting. See how confidant he is then.”

  “Shut up!”

  Silvio lifted a bread roll and threw his arm back, as if he was about to hurl it at his brother.

  Until Martina grabbed him by the ear, silencing him and halting his tirade.

  “Enough of that. You act like a child sometimes.”

  Isla’s heart pounded watching the scene unfold.

  Silvio lowered the bread bun, and it was adorable the way he pouted. “Sorry.”

  Orlando laughed openly at his brother’s expense. Isla couldn’t help herself, she did, too.

  Fighting at the holiday dinner table. This was getting to be like a real Christmas after all. The only difference was the fighting wouldn’t end with Isla and her brother eating alone while their parents shouted over the divorce proceedings. This almost seemed friendly, like a sitcom, and it was so perfect except for one major thing.

  The thumping noises got louder. Isla put her hand over her heart before realizing it wasn’t her. She wasn’t hearing her heart, even though it was still slamming against her ribs.

  Orlando, Silvio and Martina looked to the ceiling briefly before the three of them smiled. Martina pushed herself to her feet before Silvio grabbed her by the wrist.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “But—”

  “Arturo is a grown man, and besides Isla, you’re the guest of honor. He can get his own ass down here just fine.”

  Martina sat, but Isla couldn’t.

  She’d thought that sounded like Arturo’s chopper. After realizing it wasn’t the sound of her heart, that is.

  Isla pushed back from her chair and ran from the dining hall. Martina called after her, but Isla didn’t stay.

&
nbsp; Her man had made it home for Christmas dinner, and she was going to greet him.

  6

  He’d flown here. Holy shit. In the crazy weather outside, he’d actually flown here. Isla ran up the stairs, and then to the third floor. The entrance from the roof was by the attic, which was nothing at all like a normal person’s attic and more like another foyer, only with a ceiling that wasn’t so high and wooden flooring instead of marble tiles and a hanging crystal chandelier.

  He was here. He was actually here in time for dinner. Dinner was almost over but that so didn’t matter because he was here and that was all Isla cared about.

  Except for one thing. How eager she was to see him. And to give him an insane amount of shit for flying here in this crazy weather.

  Just as Isla turned to run up the stairs to that third entrance that only Arturo had the key for, he was already walking down the stairs, hands scrubbing through his black hair, removing the sticky snow before he pulled at his scarf. A cold gush of wind raced downstairs after him, as if he’d just shut the door.

  He didn’t seem to notice Isla standing at the foot of the stairs until he was almost in front of her.

  He was already tall, made even taller by the fact that he was still on the second stair, but in that moment, his larger than life aura was larger, more magnificent than ever before.

  He looked like a man Isla hadn’t seen in forever. Which was insane since she’d spent the night last night. She’d shared Arturo’s bed. Isla had woken up to Arturo already gone to work, but she’d fallen asleep in his arms and there was really no reason for her to be looking at him like it had been months since she’d seen him.

  She couldn’t help it, however. This was too good.

  Isla smiled at him, and this time she really could hear her heart thumping through her chest. Even after she punched him in the arm. “Idiot!”

  Arturo’s dark eyes flew wide. “What?”

 

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