Laughter had rumbled in his chest. “We’re clear. But nothing to worry about, because I’ve got no plans to ever let you go again. Not when I came so close to losing you.”
She’d fallen asleep instantly after that, a smile on her face, and he hadn’t been able to resist hugging her tight, as though afraid she might slip away during the night. It hadn’t been the first time Dante had shuddered at the realization of exactly how close he’d come to losing her, of how much worse things could have turned out if an alert neighbor hadn’t called 911 so promptly and caused the muggers to run off.
But she was here with him now, he’d acknowledged with relief, and safe and warm in his arms - a place where she would fall asleep every night from here on end if he had his way.
“You’re positive I look okay?” fretted Cara as he pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. “That this dress was the right choice?”
“Yes.” He parked the car, then reached over and gave her a quick kiss. “To both questions. And my mother and brother told you the exact same thing, so believe it, okay? You look beautiful, Cara. And I can’t wait to show you off to the rest of my family. Let’s go in now, okay?”
Dante had suspected that Cara would have any number of doubts and insecurities about meeting all of his family today, so he’d gone out and bought her several new outfits for this weekend - including the simple but stunning midnight blue wrap-front dress she was wearing now. She had protested mightily, of course, when she’d discovered the half dozen shopping bags he had brought home for her, the ones that had contained not just dresses but skirts, jeans, trousers, blouses, sweaters, shoes, lingerie, and the black cashmere overcoat she was currently belting around her waist. But after a good-natured argument, Cara had finally relented and thanked him profusely for all of the beautiful things. Dante hadn’t dared break the news to her just yet that these few bags were merely the tip of the iceberg of all the things he planned to buy her.
As he helped her remove the coat once inside the restaurant, he gave her one more lookover and smiled in satisfaction. Cara had fretted that this dress was too low-cut, or made her look too old, or, worse - made her butt look too big. He’d assured her multiple times that the dress was perfect for the occasion - not too dressy nor too casual, and that it shrieked class. What he hadn’t told her - quite intentionally - was that the silky fabric also molded itself to her lush breasts, and emphasized her small waist. The rich blue color was a good one for her, lending her youthful complexion a healthy glow, and complimenting the rich fall of her lustrous, dark hair. There was no disguising the fact that she was young - probably too young for him, most of his family would whisper - but Cara also looked every bit like a woman. A woman that he was exceptionally proud to usher inside the big, noisy banquet room where more than fifty people had already gathered.
Dante snagged both of them a glass of red wine from a waiter whom he’d known for twenty years, then touched his glass to hers.
“Here goes nothing,” he told her with a wink. “Too late to back out of this now, honey. The horde is already descending on us.”
For the next twenty minutes or so, he introduced Cara to every aunt, uncle, cousin, in-law, family friend, and neighbor who approached, making sure that she didn’t look overwhelmed or close to tears as a result. But then he realized that he shouldn’t have worried for even a minute, because Cara was quite obviously having the time of her life. She was by nature a friendly, outgoing person, so it was no surprise when she wound up charming everyone she met.
But there was still one person - one very, very important person - that Cara had yet to be presented to, though Dante knew his grandmother had for certain been keeping an extremely close eye on her grandson’s new girlfriend. He took Cara by the hand, pulling her along in his wake as one of his aunts would have kept chatting with her for the next hour if he had allowed it.
“Come on. It’ll be time soon to sit down for the meal, and I’m guessing Nonna is getting awfully impatient to meet you. Ah, there she is, in her usual spot, of course. Just like a queen. Which, by the way, she tends to act like most of the time. Not a queen exactly, but there’s not a single person in this room who doesn’t know she rules this family.”
Cara gulped, looking helplessly at her empty wine glass. “Do I have time to chug-a-lug another glass?” she whispered. “One wasn’t nearly enough to prepare me for this.”
Dante shook his head, grinning as he placed a hand at the small of her back. “It’s going to be fine,” he whispered. “I promise.”
He steered a hesitant Cara over to where Valentina Sabattini was holding court - seated in a high-backed chair in a spot where she could easily view all of the goings-on in the banquet room. She was as flawlessly groomed as ever, despite her advanced years - her snowy white hair impeccably coiffed, her makeup and nails perfect, with gold jewelry sparkling at her ears, throat, and wrists. She was even wearing purple - the color of royalty - though Dante supposed the wool dress was really more of a plum shade.
And her sharp, observant eyes were fixed directly on him at the moment as he made his way to greet her - or, more accurately, on the young, slightly terrified woman he was half-guiding, half-pushing forward.
“Hello, Nonna,” he told her warmly, bending down to kiss her proffered cheek. “You look beautiful as always. And I have someone I’d like you to meet.” He gave Cara a little nudge and she slowly took a couple of steps forward. “Nonna, this is Cara Bregante. Cara, meet my grandmother, the owner of this restaurant and the head of the family - Valentina Sabattini.”
Valentina, who’d been unsmiling up until now, perked up a bit when she heard Cara’s last name. “Bregante?” she repeated. “È lei italiana?”
Dante nodded. “Si. Cara is half-Italian, Nonna.”
Valentina looked at Cara expectantly, no doubt well aware that she was scaring the bejesus out of her, then extended her beringed hand. Cara, to her credit, gave his grandmother her biggest and brightest smile before taking Valentina’s hand in her own.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Signora Sabattini. Thank you so much for having me here today. Dante has told me many times about what wonderful food you serve, so I’m looking forward to trying it.”
Cara’s words were clear and steady - and had been delivered in perfectly pronounced Italian. He recalled some mention she’d made recently of having studied the language in high school, and lamenting that she would really need to brush up on her skills prior to meeting his family. Somehow, she’d found time to do a good deal of brushing up over the past few days.
Valentina did something that she seldom did nowadays - smile. And not just any smile, mind you, but one that rivaled Cara’s in size and brilliance. The old woman was obviously delighted, evidenced by the way she clutched Cara’s hand tightly. In Italian, she told Cara that the pleasure was all hers to meet her grandson’s new friend, and that she guaranteed Cara would have the best meal of her life today.
Cara nodded in agreement, seeming to understand everything Valentina had just said. But then his grandmother turned to him, speaking in such rapid-fire Italian that even he had to focus to understand. He merely grinned at her in return, then nodded and pressed another small kiss to her cheek.
It was time then to sit down for what was to be a late lunch/early dinner, so he guided Cara to where their assigned seats were. She tugged anxiously at his coat sleeve as they walked over to their table.
“What exactly did your grandmother just tell you?” she whispered urgently. “I got about ten words out of the whole dialog, none of which made any sense to me.”
Dante slipped an arm about her waist, giving her an affectionate little squeeze. “What she said,” he told her with a wink, “was that I had finally brought home a girl she could approve of. And that if I ever dared to let you out of my sight, she would personally find both her heaviest cast iron skillet and her biggest carving knife and use both of them on me until I came to my senses.”
Cara cupped his cheek tenderly. “Well, guess you’d better listen to your Nonna then, hadn’t you?” she teased. “After all, she seems like a very wise woman to give you that sort of advice.”
He gave her a quick kiss, ignoring the interested stares they were bound to be receiving from his nosy family members. “The best advice she ever gave me,” he agreed. “Oh, and before I forget. She also wants to know what your favorite colors are. You know, so that she can start buying sheets and towels for your hope chest.”
Epilogue
One Year Later – St. Lucia
“Here you go. One very cold drink for one very hot babe. Cheers.”
Cara grinned as she clinked the glass containing a delicious frozen melon margarita against Dante’s. “Cheers. Mmm, this really hits the spot. Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” He leaned across his padded lounger to plant a kiss on her mouth, his lips cool from the cocktail. “Especially since I told the bartender to add an extra shot of tequila to yours. I like how you get a little wild and crazy when you’re tipsy. One of these days I’ll convince you to dance on a tabletop for me.”
She groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I swear I am going to kill Mirai for telling you that. Some best friend she turned out to be.”
Dante laughed. “You know you don’t mean that. And you also miss her like hell right now. How much longer is that internship of hers?”
“Until the end of July. Though she’s taking a week off in April and flying back to San Francisco to visit. And as much as I miss her, working in New York for a year is good for her. And she’s enjoying the extra time with her father.”
Mirai had finished her certification program in fashion merchandising, and with the help of Angela’s friend Julia had landed an internship working at Bergdorf Goodman in Manhattan. Julia’s aunt was the head buyer at the exclusive department store, and had arranged for Mirai to work under one of her assistants. And while Cara had been missing her BFF like crazy, she knew that the opportunity had been too good to pass up. Besides, she reasoned, she’d been so busy herself that she barely had a minute to spare nowadays.
She had been living with Dante full time for over a year now, having happily given up her lease on the tiny apartment, and moved in with him bag and baggage - sans the detested futon, of course. True to his word, he’d driven her everywhere, at least until he had bullied her into renewing her lapsed drivers license. For her twenty-third birthday last April, one of the many gifts he’d given her had been the keys to a brand new car of her very own - a fire engine red, fully loaded Lexus LC.
“Because red is your best color,” he’d told her as she had stared at the luxury vehicle in speechless surprise. “And seeing you behind the wheel of this car will always remind me of how you looked the night of our first date - wearing that red dress and making me realize I was really seeing you for the first time.”
Somewhat to Cara’s dismay, she’d had to quickly get used to receiving such extravagant gifts from her very generous boyfriend. Dante had blithely ignored her protests about buying her a whole new wardrobe, and simply dragged her along with him on an extended shopping spree. He set up an account for her at the beauty salon where Ruben worked, and insisted that she make appointments whenever she liked to get her hair and nails done, have a massage, or any other treatments she desired. She now had a membership at the gym he and Nick worked out at, though she mostly attended classes - spin, barre method, boot camp - rather than lifting the sort of heavy weights the two men preferred.
Dante had also given her carte blanche to spend whatever she wanted at the grocery store, and that at least was one perk she took full advantage of. Cara adored cooking in the condo’s fully stocked kitchen, and having an unlimited food budget had allowed her to create some incredible dishes. They also ate out a few times a week, especially when work had been extra hectic. At first, he had made it a point to take her to only the trendiest, most exclusive restaurants in the city, until she’d admitted that she didn’t always like the pretentious dishes they tended to serve in such places. Instead, she preferred some of the cozier neighborhood establishments he’d brought her to when they had first dated.
She had finally finished school last August, a milestone that had been celebrated in grand fashion with a big party Dante had thrown for her up at the family restaurant in Healdsburg. It had easily been one of the happiest days of her life, eating and drinking and laughing with all of his family members and friends who’d come out to commemorate the occasion. Mirai had flown in just for the weekend, declaring that there was no possible way she would have missed such a momentous event. Angela and Nick had been there, too, along with their infant son Dylan. And Cara hadn’t been able to hold back the tears when her mother’s best friend Frannie had shown up, a closely guarded surprise that Dante had organized.
The only person who hadn’t shown up, or sent his congratulations, had been her father - largely because Cara hadn’t bothered to remind him that she’d received her degree. Contact with Mark, in fact, was nearly nonexistent these days, limited to a handful of brief, stilted phone calls or an occasional email a few times a year.
But her father’s lack of interest in her no longer bothered Cara. It was something she’d worked hard to get past, but she could now honestly say that she didn’t care one way or the other. She no longer needed or wanted her father’s support or attention, and certainly not his approval. Dante more than provided her with all of those things and more, and in a much deeper and more meaningful way than her egocentric father ever could.
Dante had very quickly become everything to her - her lover, protector, confidante, friend. After struggling to take care of and support herself for so long, it had been a blessed relief to now have someone who was so eager to look out for her. At the same time, though, he was all too well aware of her need for independence, and was careful not to cross the fine line between support and domination - at least, most of the time, she thought wryly. Dante was also extremely protective, something she teasingly attributed to his Italian blood and machismo, but she had to secretly admit that she did love it when he would go all caveman on her at times.
And Cara enjoyed teasing him every so often that what she loved most about him was his family, while he would joke that they liked her more than they liked him. But she knew how much it pleased him that she loved spending time with his family, how she adored every single dinner and party and holiday they were invited to. Jeannie had quickly become like a second mother to her, and fussed over Cara as though she were her own child. Dante’s roguish younger brother Rafe flirted with Cara outrageously, even though she’d told him impishly that she really preferred older men. And while his tough as nails little sister Gia hadn’t been won over quite so easily, by now she adored Cara as much as the rest of the family did.
Cara swapped recipes with his aunts, had helped plan a baby shower for one of his many cousins, attended a bachelorette party for yet another cousin, and organized a birthday dinner for Jeannie. She’d overheard numerous speculations among his family members about when and if Dante was going to pop the question to her anytime soon, though the only one bold enough to actually voice that inquiry aloud had been Valentina.
Cara usually just blushed and looked at her feet when Dante’s grandmother asked when he was going to make an honest woman of her, while Dante would gently chide Valentina to mind her own business, and remind her that there was plenty of time for all that. But the gift that Valentina had presented to Cara last month for Christmas had been a none-too-subtle push in that direction - a set of sheets and a linen tablecloth - for her hope chest, the elderly woman had instructed. Cara still wasn’t quite sure if this hope chest was supposed to be an actual piece of furniture, or was simply a term someone had dreamed up long ago.
It had been the happiest, merriest Christmas she’d had since the last one spent with her mother. And even when Sharon had been alive, their simple, quiet holiday celebrations had been not
hing like a Sabattini one. This past Christmas had been filled with laughter and presents and more food and drink than Cara had ever seen at one time. She’d been almost delirious with happiness, and that had been without all of the beautiful gifts Dante had lavished on her.
The one gift he hadn’t given her, though, had been the much-hinted-about engagement ring that nearly every member of his family had been expecting to see gracing the third finger of her left hand on Christmas Day. Cara had scolded herself for feeling even the tiniest bit of disappointment that Dante hadn’t in fact popped the question by now, reminding herself that she was completely, utterly content with their current situation. The boyfriend whom she was insanely in love with was not merely gorgeous, filthy rich, and an insatiable but generous lover, but he was also kind, protective, funny, and a gentleman. They complemented each other in every way, rarely argued (and usually only when he was acting a little too domineering), and Cara had never before felt so cherished and adored. Expecting anything more at this point in their relationship would just be greedy on her part.
And really, she argued with herself now as she sipped the icy cold, deliciously fruity cocktail, she certainly didn’t have time to deal with stuff like planning a wedding, even if Dante had proposed. Nick was a demanding boss, expecting nothing short of perfection, and Cara often worked exhaustingly long hours. She’d made the decision - with Dante’s blessing, even though he’d teased her about feeling hurt that she didn’t want to come work for him - to remain part of Nick and Angela’s team at Morton Sterling. Even before her college graduation, she’d begun assuming more responsibilities and working more closely with clients.
And when Angela had started her maternity leave two weeks before her due date, Cara had moved into her boss’ office for the next few months. Baby Dylan had been born in June, and despite their initial misgivings, Nick and Angela were proving to be competent, dedicated, and rather obsessive parents. Nick in particular had shocked everyone who knew him with his devotion to his son, and Dante had nearly choked the first time he’d observed his arrogant, controlling best friend actually changing a diaper.
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