by Jo Leigh
“Yeah. I thought so at first, but he wouldn’t do anything like that. He didn’t need to, either. That simple walk we took has now basically become our engagement announcement. I warned you.”
“They were pretty darn quick.”
“Faster than the speed of sound. That’s your neighborhood for you.”
“I think I can handle it.”
They were standing at the exit, and she got the idea that he didn’t want to leave as much as she didn’t want him to. If only she could have kissed him or something...
“I’ll actually be seeing you very soon,” she said.
“That’s true.”
“No pastries tonight. And I don’t have anything for dinner, so eat before you come.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She smiled and felt her cheeks get warm. “I’m sorry this couldn’t have been a better tour.”
“Best ever. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
She searched his eyes and wished, just for a moment, that they were more than what they were.
Tony stared right back, studying her face every bit as closely. “You know, if you wanted, you could come to a family dinner Friday night—”
Surprised, she blinked. “I’d love to. As long as it doesn’t go too late, because I have to work Saturday morning.”
He stopped. Raised his eyebrows. “Wait. You really want to come? After what I just told you?”
She nodded. “Clearly, you don’t want me to go, though. So why did you ask?”
“Honestly?” he said. “I have no idea.” He glanced around. “Look, it’s not that I don’t want you to meet them. I just don’t want them to chase you away.”
She thought about how it would be with her own parents. Oh, God. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” he repeated.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to go if you’d be uncomfortable. But I am a client, so it might quell some rumors. And I’ve already met your father—” Her cell phone rang, and she took it out of her pocket. “This is Catherine Fox.”
After hearing that she was needed back at her office, she put her boss on hold for a moment. “Sorry, I’ve got to go.”
“Sure. Of course. I’ll see you later,” Tony said, looking a little shell-shocked.
Catherine hurried on her way, not just because she was needed, but because she was afraid he’d stop her and tell her he was just kidding about the family dinner. What she’d said was true, though. It might actually help matters for her to meet his family.
Or make things exponentially worse.
* * *
BY THE TIME Tony got to his mother’s house he was in a state. It didn’t help that he hadn’t seen Catherine since he’d met her at the UN complex. A plumbing emergency in Queens involving a subcontractor had ruined Wednesday night, and something to do with her job had put the kibosh on Thursday. Not only was he frustrated that the two of them hadn’t had sex again, he also hadn’t been able to connect with her to lay down some groundwork for tonight’s meal.
Of course, his mother had gone nuts the moment he’d told her Catherine was coming to dinner. From the condition the kitchen was in, he knew that she and his grandmother had been cooking everything they could think of, from arancini to zeppole. At least he’d had the good sense to bring the entire selection of wines that would go with each course. He deposited the heavy box on the hutch and went to look for the wine opener.
“Tony, help your brother set the table.”
“Dom can set a table all by himself. He’s a big boy now.”
“Don’t argue with me when I’ve got a big wooden spoon in my hand, young man.”
“Young man,” he said, joining his mother near the stove. All four burners were occupied, as were the double ovens. And there was the table, the big one they brought out when the extended family came over, bowing under the weight of...oh, God. “Who are you planning to feed with this, Ma? There’s enough for the entire neighborhood here.”
“What’s left over you kids can take home. I’m sure Catherine doesn’t have anything decent in her refrigerator.”
“Her refrigerator is tiny. She’s in the middle of renovations. She doesn’t have anywhere to put anything.”
“So you boys all take extra, and bring her a little each time one of you goes to work at her house. See? Simple. Now go help your brother.”
Tony just shook his head. No point in arguing. “I’m going to get the wine ready. Tell Luca to help.”
“Luca’s out back with your father at the grill.”
“Of course you’re making the bistecca alla Fiorentina.” It was a huge cut of porterhouse steak, wood-grilled rare, and a show-off dish if there ever was one. They usually had it only on special occasions.
“Your father told me she’s loaded. You want her to think we don’t know good meat?”
“No, Ma. I don’t want her to know you’re nuts.”
“Hey, watch your mouth.”
He was still too fast for her. The spoon just missed his knuckles. “Where’s Nonna?”
“Resting. She cooked all day.”
“Nuts,” Tony said under his breath as he went over to the box and pulled out the red wines. After he uncorked those, he put the already chilled whites in the patio fridge, which was, as always, full.
“Hey, Pop,” he said, deeply inhaling the scent of the Fiorentina. He clapped his dad on the back and nodded at his brother. “So you’re helping with the steak, huh? Interesting way to help.”
Luca held up his half-empty glass of white wine. “I’ve had a tough day.”
“Funny guy. I was with you for most of it. And no, I don’t want to talk about it.” They’d had trouble with a newer client who wanted to change things in her remodel after almost everything was finished.
“I like that you invited Ms. Fox to dinner,” his father said. “She’s nice. I was sorry I couldn’t keep working with her. Not that I worry you aren’t doing a good job. Just, she was nice. A little old-fashioned, I think.”
“Only with her taste in restoration,” Tony said.
“I’m not sure that’s true. But what do I know.” He looked at his watch. “She’ll be here soon?”
“Yeah. Any minute. I heard about what the doctor said.”
His father scowled and poked at the steak. “They’re making a dinner fit for a king, and I’ve got to eat like a pauper. I ask you, what good is living a long life if I have to eat salad all the goddamn time?”
“You can eat other things. Just in moderation. And you know we all need you, so don’t mess around. I’m still wet behind the ears. What would I do if I couldn’t call you for advice every day?”
“Just what you’re doing now,” he said, then closed his eyes for a moment. “But I appreciate you asking all the same.”
As Tony smiled, the doorbell rang. He hustled back into the house and went to get the door before Dom or, God forbid, his mother got it.
Catherine looked beautiful in a dress that was belted at the waist, with a pleated skirt that hit just below her knees. With the ballet slippers and her little sweater, she reminded him of pictures from the old scrapbook his mother kept.
“Welcome,” he said, reminding himself that kissing was off the table for the night, “to my family home.”
“It’s a beautiful place,” she said, stepping inside and glancing around. “It looks like—hmm.”
“The house from Moonstruck, with Cher, right?”
“Yes. I guess I’m not the first to notice.”
“They did some filming on this block,” he said. “I suppose that big bouquet isn’t for me?”
“No. But then I didn’t know you were so fond of roses.”
“My mother will love them. She’s in the kitchen. Don’t be surprised at the fuss sh
e’ll make, okay?”
“Remember,” Catherine said, leaning close so no one would overhear, “I’ve lived in Italy. And I had Belaflore in my life. I’m well prepared.”
It occurred to Tony that he never should have worried about prepping Catherine. He should have been worried about his family. “Good. They’ll like you, anyway. Don’t worry.”
She walked with Tony into the formal dining room, the one they didn’t use except for company. The table was set, despite Dom having to do it all by himself.
“Hello, Catherine,” Dom said, giving her one of his most disarming smiles. Tony would have cared if she hadn’t kept forgetting his name.
“Good to see you again—”
“Dom,” Tony said. “Or Dominic.”
The smile dimmed, and Tony wished Luca had been there to witness it.
“And this way is the kitchen,” he said, mentally crossing his fingers that this whole thing wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever had. His mother turned as they stood at the arched entrance. Her smile looked genuine, but her eyes were working overtime. He wasn’t sure how she did it, but she could give a head-to-toe once-over to anyone at all without them having a clue.
“Catherine Fox, this is my mother, Theresa.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Paladino. The moment I walked into your house I nearly swooned from all the delicious smells.” Catherine walked over and held out the bouquet of roses—pink, white and yellow, a traditional favorite for happy occasions in Italy. “I wasn’t sure what to bring, but I’ve always loved roses, and I hope you like them, too.”
The smile that had looked genuine became genuine as his mother accepted the bouquet. Without turning at all, she said, “Tony, bring out the big vase.”
He hesitated for only a second, but there was enough goodwill so far that he felt comfortable going down to the cellar and leaving Catherine on her own.
10
CATHERINE WAS A little worried about Tony’s disappearance, but she tried not to let it show. Theresa was a fascinating woman. If Catherine wasn’t a trained professional, she’d never have noticed Tony’s mother checking out every inch of her. She’d thought long and hard about what to wear, and decided that a retro dress from the 1950s would be just the thing. Now that she’d seen the house—a throwback to a different era, with a velvet couch, flocked damask wallpaper and family photos on practically every surface available—she knew she’d chosen well.
“So, tell me, Ms. Fox, who recommended my husband’s company to remodel your new home?”
“Practically everyone,” she said. “And please, Catherine is fine.”
“Okay, good. Everyone, huh?”
“I don’t know if you knew the Calabrese family, but when I bought the place from them, they swore by Paladino & Sons.”
“I knew them,” she said, just as Tony arrived with a gigantic vase. “Do me a favor, Catherine. Stir the sauce while I put the flowers in water.”
Catherine obeyed, of course, and stirred the rich ragout while Theresa fussed with the roses and told Tony to get another apron from the drawer.
He brought back what looked like a handmade red checkerboard apron that would cover her well. At first Catherine thought Tony was going to put the apron on her, but at the last second he realized his mistake and handed it to her.
“Joseph never told me how you knew the Calabrese family. I didn’t think the house was even on the market.”
“Belaflore, William and Carlotta’s grandmother, was my nanny from the time I was six. She became my de facto grandmother and dear friend until she passed two years ago.”
“I remember her name, but I only knew her children.”
The tone, just shy of outright disapproval, gave Catherine every bit of information she needed.
“They wanted to move to Queens or New Jersey or something, but the father said no because they lived above their store.” Theresa dried her hands with a lime-green towel while eyeing Catherine. “Are you keeping a store?”
“No, I’m not. At least I don’t think so. Although I have to decide very soon or Sal’s going to walk out on me and leave all his equipment behind.”
“Sal’s a good boy, but he gets impatient. He wants everything up front, like his mother. Which is good because if he took after his father, he’d be drunk half the time, and the other half an idiot.”
“Ma,” Tony said, “I’ve already warned Catherine about the rampant gossip around here. You’re just proving my point.”
“She’s going to be a neighbor, right? So why shouldn’t she know something about the people she’s going to live with?”
Tony sighed. “I’ll put the flowers in the dining room and take Catherine out to see Pop and Luca.”
Catherine wasn’t going to argue, but after she handed over the spoon, she said, “Whatever I can do to help, just let me know. My kitchen is all torn apart so I’ve been living off takeout. I can’t thank you enough for inviting me to dinner. It’s very kind of you.”
“You’re a client. And a neighbor.” Theresa waved a hand. “Of course, you’re welcome anytime.”
Tony herded her out of the kitchen, dropped the roses off in a very large dining room and then led her to another door in the enormous house. She’d thought the front of the place had looked like every other brownstone in the older area, but now she was beginning to see that it was a single-family home, a lot like hers, in fact, but bigger. “This is all one unit?”
“Yep. Been in the family since my great-great-grandfather came over to work in America. He lived in a tenement for several years, but worked his way up to foreman in a construction company. He scrimped and saved and put every penny he could into real estate. The tradition has carried on.”
“Which explains your place,” she said, her voice low, so she wouldn’t blow the facade. It was quite uncomfortable, not being free to touch him. To kiss him. And she gathered, by the way he yanked her into a bathroom, he felt the same.
He shut the door and then pulled her straight into a desperate kiss. She melted against him, the feel of his body soothing her nerves, although it didn’t help her in the wanting-him department.
“Now I know why this wasn’t a great idea,” he whispered right before he kissed the line of her jaw, all the way up to the base of her ear.
“They say absence makes the heart grow fonder,” she said, running her hands down his back.
“It also makes me harder, which isn’t a good thing.” He gave her one last kiss before stepping back. “Okay, we can’t do this. Not here. Just dinner. Just a client. Nothing else.”
“Except for the gossip.”
“I warned you.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad I’m here, even though I’m frustrated, as well. How about tomorrow night we deal with this situation? Can you come to my place?”
“Just tell me when.”
She had to kiss him one more time before they rejoined his family. “Let’s go back. I’m looking forward to seeing your father again. And dinner. It really does smell amazing.”
The kiss had ended too quickly, but it took him a minute to get his pants to lie straight. Then they went out onto a back patio that overlooked a small but lovely garden. There was Joe, the first Paladino she’d met. He opened his arms to her and gave her a hug.
“You look great,” she said.
“That’s supposed to be my line.”
“I’m just glad you’re feeling well. For what it’s worth, your son Tony is doing a great job. I imagine almost as good as if you’d stayed with the project.”
“For that, you can eat my dessert that I’m not allowed to have.”
“Deal,” she said rather quickly, and laughed along with Tony and his brother.
She shook Luca’s hand and made a fuss over the steak, which was very familiar t
o her, even though she made sure not to let it show. They talked about the pleasant weather they’d been having, then Joe steered the conversation to the progress of her renovation, but the topic of business was swiftly shut down by his two sons. Soon it was time for dinner.
As they were seated, the true scope of the banquet became clear. “Are you planning on a second round of guests after we finish?” Catherine asked.
Everyone at the table, with the exception of Nonna, who looked as if she’d fit in on any side street in Tuscany, laughed.
“This,” Tony said, “is all for us.”
“You’re a tiny thing,” Theresa said, bringing out yet another dish.
“Don’t let that fool you,” Catherine said, earning her a smile of approval.
“Oh, great,” Dom said. “I’m depending on a lot of leftovers.”
“Is that a nice thing to say to our guest?” Theresa gave him the evil eye across the table.
“I love you, Ma,” Dom volleyed, with a dazzling grin that made Catherine chuckle.
Joe rolled his eyes. Tony and Luca shook their heads.
Nonna just kept staring at Catherine. She tried her best to ignore the older woman’s frown of suspicion, as if she was waiting for Catherine to stuff all the family silver into her purse.
* * *
CATHERINE WAS NOT only enjoying the food, she loved listening to the Paladinos talk, and watching the family dynamic. Theresa gave her the lowdown on where to shop for groceries, bread and wine near her home, and while she listened, she couldn’t help but keep glancing at the three brothers.
All of them were very good-looking with their dark hair and eyes, but there were definitely differences among them. Luca wore his hair longer, pushed back. His eyes were large, and his aquiline nose gave him a great profile that made him look slightly bookish.
Dom could have stepped straight out of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog. He had perfectly symmetrical features and a contagious smile. Of course, Tony’s face was her favorite. Not to mention the rest of him. He took after his father in the eyebrow department, which she loved, and had a strong chin, a classic profile.