The D'amici Mistake, page 13
She kept going and disappeared around the corner.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to get his temper under control, then followed her. He found her in the sleek kitchen he’d redesigned, opening and closing his cupboards. Slamming them, actually. “What are you looking for?” he asked.
“A glass, so I can have some milk.”
He reached into the cupboard nearest the sink and extracted a glass, then withdrew a jug from the stainless steel fridge and poured her a drink. She took it from him and swallowed while glaring at him over the rim.
When she put it down, they eyed each other.
“Did what I say, not make sense?” he asked. “It’s reasonable for us to live here right now.”
“I don’t care if it’s reasonable or if it makes sense. I care that you ask me first. Santo, you can’t just make decisions for me. This is the same thing you did when the condom broke. You’re taking away my choice.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
“I should have told you about that. But the move this morning was to make things easier for you. I thought you would like waking up and having your things around. Having Max on the bed.”
Her brows raised. “Even though you knew it would make me mad? You should have discussed it with me first.”
He swore under his breath and put the milk back in the fridge, then turned to her. “Is it so wrong for me to want to take care of you? To want you with me?”
“No, but I’m not a child. You can’t just dictate to me. I feel like you’re trying to hem me in.”
“How is doing what’s right, hemming you in?”
“Because maybe it’s not right for me. Santo, I agreed to consider marriage, and I meant it, but you’re moving too fast. Give me a chance to breathe.”
Silence fell as they stared at each other. He had made the decision for her, but the last thing he’d wanted was for her to return to the house where her parents had been so cruel, where she might have second thoughts about marrying him. He wanted her with him. Permanently. In his home, in his bed, and in his heart. He didn’t want to give her room to breathe, or to think, because that might mean she’d change her mind.
But all he’d done was push her further away.
The phone rang on the counter beside him, and he stiffened. He glanced at the display and saw it was Sarika calling him back.
Elena was going to be furious.
It rang again, and he ignored it.
“Aren’t you going to answer that?” she asked.
“I’ll call back.”
She frowned, looking at the display. “But it’s Sarika.”
“I know.”
It rang a third time, and Elena reached for the phone. He put his hand over it to stop her from picking up.
“I asked her to call, Elena. She’s going to ask to speak to you—invite you to lunch at her house—invite us to lunch.” The phone rang a fourth time, and he took a deep breath, plowing ahead before she could interrupt. “She’s planned a party for us—on my behalf. My family will be there. It’s supposed to be a surprise. I wanted to announce our engagement and tell everyone about the baby.”
Elena gasped, and a panicked expression crossed her face. “But we’re not engaged.”
“Yet. Meeting my mother and sisters may help you decide.”
The phone rang a fifth and final time.
“When did you arrange this?” she asked.
“This morning. Sarika said she’d call everyone and see if they were available. I know my mother has the afternoon off, she’s only teaching part time, but I don’t know my sisters’ schedules.”
Elena’s eyes widened. He wanted to gather her in his arms and soothe her, but he was pretty sure that was the last thing she’d want.
“What did Sarika say?” she asked.
“I don’t know, yet. I haven’t spoken to her since then.”
“No, I meant about the pregnancy.” Tears formed in her eyes and she blinked them away. “Was she excited?”
This time he did pull her close. “I haven’t told her. I wouldn’t do that without you there, but she’s guessed something’s up. I just said that I wanted you to meet my family. Which I do.”
Elena opened her mouth to respond, but his cell phone in his pants’ pocket rang. Their eyes met.
“It’s her,” she said. “She’s nothing if not persistent.” The phone rang again. “Answer it.”
“No. I’ll call back in a few minutes and cancel the whole thing.”
Before he could stop her, she pulled out his phone. Sliding her thumb over the display, she held it up to him. Sarika’s voice came through the speaker. “Hello? Santo? Are you there?”
Grasping the phone, he placed it against his ear. “I’m here, Sarika. Sorry.”
“That’s okay. I just spoke to your mom and everyone will be there. Bianca had to reschedule a meeting, and Violet is skipping a class, but none of them wanted to miss meeting Elena. Now are you going to tell me what’s up?” she asked.
He looked at Elena. From the expression on her face, he knew she’d heard every word.
Hell. He’d made such a mess of things. If he could throw Elena over his shoulder and carry her to a church he would, but that wasn’t going to fly in this day and age. He would have to cancel and come at the problem from a different angle. “Sarika, you’ve been a great help in this. Thank you so much, but I’m afraid—”
Elena grabbed his arm and shook her head.
“Hold on, please.” He placed the speaker against his chest. “What?” he asked her.
“You can’t just cancel after everyone’s worked so hard to put it together.” Elena turned and walked to the end of the counter then back again, her fingers rubbing her forehead. Then she pointed at him. “I’ll go, but just to meet your family. No talk about marriage or babies or even living together. I want your promise.”
A stubborn refusal rose at the same time as relief cascaded through him. Did he push her on this? “They’ll find out eventually. Why not now? You’ll be showing in a month.”
She fisted her hands on her hips. “Santo!”
He sighed and put the phone back up to his ear. “What time do you want us there, Sarika?”
* * *
Elena closed her eyes, blocking out the bright afternoon sunlight coming through the passenger seat window, and took deep breaths to calm her panic. She was going to meet Santo’s family. What would they think of her? That she was a rich bitch who wasn’t good enough for him? Or that she was a flighty idiot who never finished anything? Really, what had she accomplished in her life, other than the event planning company with Sarika? Nothing of consequence. She’d just sailed by on her family’s money.
Santo’s sisters all had professional degrees, or were working toward them, and his mother was a teacher. She would hold education in high regard. Something Elena had not done when she’d dropped out of Wellesley with one semester to go.
Looking down, she pleated her fingers in the soft skirt of her dress. The pale pink cashmere shaped her figure with a “V” neckline and fell to her knees. It was simple and elegant, especially paired with the cream heels she wore and her matching coat, but it wasn’t particularly hip. She should have gone with her heeled boots, skinny jeans and Louis Vuittan belt. That was rocker chic and made her feel invincible. But Sarika had insisted in their many phone calls that Elena wear a dress to meet Santo’s mother.
Too late to change now.
With a sigh, Elena pulled down the visor in front of her and flipped open the mirror. Her hair was secured in a loose chignon at the back. Maybe she should release it? And get rid of the diamond studs in her ears. She lifted her hands to the pins.
“Leave it,” Santo said. “You look lovely. If you comb it out, you’ll just want to put it up again.”
He was right. Flipping the visor back in place, she turned to him, tempted to bite her manicured nail. “I know nothing about your family. How can we even consider getting married when up until an hour ago, I didn’t know your sisters’ names, let alone that you had three of them. And I had to learn from Sarika that your mother was a teacher and your father had died. Really, Santo, there’s something wrong with that.”
He released the steering wheel and clasped her hand. “Aria, Bianca, and Violet. In that order.”
“The doctor, the associate professor, and the…what does Violet do again?” she asked
“We’re not sure. She keeps changing her course of study—now I think she’s in psychology. Last year it was philosophy. Before that…I can’t remember.”
Elena decided she liked Violet. Being undecided in your life at twenty-two was all right in her book. “Do they know that I’m, you know, a drop out? And I haven’t really focused on a career until lately, or done much of anything?” She thought back on the different episodes in her life his family might object to. “I was a Goth for a while when I was a teenager, dressed all in black with combat boots and dark makeup. There are pictures out there somewhere—the ones my mother didn’t burn. And I lost my virginity at fifteen. That was awful in an uneventful kind of way. I didn’t have sex again for four years. And then there’s my family. What if your mom asks about my parents?”
After a quick glance at her, he pulled to the side of the road and took her hands in his. “Elena, it doesn’t matter what my family thinks of you, it only matters what I think of you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course it matters. You’re Italian and the only son. Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“Not at all.” He ran his knuckles down her cheek. “You’re smart, funny, and sweet—all rolled up in a gorgeous, sexy package. They’re going to love you.”
She melted a little inside, but something still bothered her. “Why haven’t you told me about them? About your dad? That must have been really hard. I know he was a policeman and you were still in school when he died, but that’s all.”
Santo’s expression changed, became clouded as he sat back in his seat. It was unusual for him. As a rule, he was always the one pushing and seeking answers.
“I was fifteen. My dad was shot in the line of duty by a bank robber. He died before my mother could get to him.”
Elena gasped, her heart breaking for the family. For the teenager who’d had his father taken away so suddenly. This time she grabbed his hands, squeezing tight.
“He was supposed to come to St. Ignatius that weekend for a big game. We were playing another prep school from San Francisco. Instead, I was called to the principal’s office. My mom and aunt were waiting for me.”
“Oh, no. Santo, I’m so sorry. How did your mother cope?”
His voice turned bleak. “She didn’t. She was almost two months pregnant when my dad died. The stress caused her to have a miscarriage a week later. I was woken in the middle of the night by my aunt telling me to take care of my sisters as she took my mom to hospital. That was the longest night of my life. I’ve never felt so helpless. Mom said she lost the baby because of her age, but she’d had four successful pregnancies before that.”
Elena shook her head, sensing his unresolved grief and guilt. “You couldn’t have done anything.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. But…”
“But what?”
Sighing, he leaned his head against the headrest. “My father was working an extra shift when he died.”
She frowned in confusion. “So?”
“So maybe if I hadn’t been going to an expensive school, he wouldn’t have been working for extra money and in the line of fire that day.”
“Oh, Santo,” she turned his face toward her, caressing his cheek. “It’s not your fault. You were at the school on scholarship. He probably took the extra shift because of the baby or to pay for something for your sisters. Either way, that was his choice. His means of supporting his family. You can’t take that away from him.”
“Still. I should have done something.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. If I’d been at home, I could have found a job. Helped out more.”
“He didn’t want you home. He wanted you getting the best education you could.”
Santo sighed. “That’s what my mother said. She made me return to school shortly after. I wanted to stay and help her take care of the girls, but she was adamant. Still, I did what I could.”
“She’s a good mother. Amanda would never have cared enough to do that for me. It would have been all about her.”
He met her eyes. “I’m sorry.” Then he held her head and kissed her. “You know my mother will love you. She likes fiery women.”
“I’m not fiery.”
He snorted as he put the car in gear and merged back into traffic. “Yes, you are. Just like all the other women in my life. Refusing to do what I want them to do.”
He said it with a smile, and she smiled back, imagining him trying to boss his sisters around. To protect them. To protect Elena and the baby.
Like his father had done.
Santo had taken on that role, and it touched Elena that he’d put her in the same category as his loved ones. Maybe he loved her, too. Just a little.
A pang for that to be true struck hard in the center of her chest, and she sat back in her seat with a thump.
He peered at her in concern as they passed through the gates into Rafe and Sarika’s estate. “Are you all right? I know it’s natural to be nervous about meeting my family, but really you have nothing to worry about.”
She nodded, but inside she was shaking. Not over meeting his family, although that was a big part of it, but because she had just realized why she wanted him to love her.
Somehow, when she wasn’t looking, she’d done the unthinkable and fallen in love with him first.
Chapter Eleven
“Mama, this is Elena Berrucci. Elena, this is my mom Carissa D’amici.”
Elena shook in her designer heels as she stared in awe at Santo’s mother. She was lovely. Not in the sculpted, tucked, and moneyed way of Elena’s mother, but in a soft, gentle way—from the swoop of her shoulder length brown hair with the lock of silver at the front, over her pearls, silk blouse, and flared black skirt, to her kitten heels.
She exuded warmth and grace and enveloped Elena in her arms when they met. “Elena, I’m so happy to meet you.”
Elena said something, she was sure, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember. All she remembered was the sweet smell of lilacs, kind brown eyes with well-earned laugh lines at the corners, and thinking that this was what it was like to have a real mother.
No wonder Santo thought marriage was forever.
“And these are my sisters, Aria, Bianca, and Violet,” he continued. The girls gazed at her curiously as the introductions were made and also gave her a big hug.
Definitely a huggy family.
“Come and tell me about yourself,” Carissa said, as she led Elena toward a cream-colored sofa facing an ornate, marble fireplace that took up half the wall. The fire was lit and heated the air, making the room feel cozy despite its grand size.
“Mama, you can’t keep her all to yourself,” Aria protested. The brilliant doctor, dressed in a smart, linen pant suit, darted past Santo and the other women to take the empty spot next to Elena. Bianca and Violet followed, pushing their brother out of the way.
“We were so surprised by Sarika’s invitation,” Aria continued. “Luckily I’m not scheduled for surgery until later. It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”
Bianca, the brilliant associate professor of political science at UC Santa Barbara, perched on the arm of the sofa beside her mother, wearing a red silk blouse tucked into a grey pencil skirt. “One of my colleagues took over my class. There’s no way I would miss this.”
“I skipped a few lectures, but I didn’t want to go in the first place—boring professors in love with their own voices.” That had to be Violet, who smirked at Bianca and received a dirty look in return.
Elena suppressed a grin. Violet was definitely her favorite. The not-so-brilliant, perpetual student wore black, flared jeans over chunky, purple shoes and a pink peasant blouse. She flopped into a Queen Anne chair, causing Carissa to raise a brow.
Violet sat up straight. “Sorry, Mama.”
Sympathy surged through her, and Elena cleared her throat. “I skipped more than a few classes myself…before dropping out of Wellesley with less than a semester to go.” Best to put that out there and get it over with. Still, she stared at her lap, not wanting to see the disapproval in Carissa’s eyes.
Instead, Carissa patted Elena’s knee. “We all have our own path. Perseverance is important, but you have to know what’s worth pursuing.”
Bianca snorted. “In Violet’s case, she’s pursuing everything. What are you studying today?” she asked her sister sweetly. “Parapsychology?”
“No, but that’s an interesting idea. Maybe I’ll try it next.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“I bet you’re good at trivia games,” Elena said, trying to be encouraging. “I’d have you on my team any day.”
Violet beamed. “People underestimate the importance of trivia all the time. Someday I’ll be a contestant on a game show and win millions.” She leaned toward Elena, eyes wide with fake innocence. “I like you. Are you and my brother getting married?”
Elena’s heart stopped, and she demoted Violet from favorite sister to devil child. Silence fell and everyone looked at Elena. She frantically searched for Santo who moved behind his youngest sister and laid a heavy hand on her shoulder.
“Let’s talk about something else,” he commanded softly.
“Oh, come on,” Violet continued. “I’m just asking what we’re all dying to know. You gathered us together on short notice to meet Elena. It’s either that or you’re having a baby.”
Elena’s heart started up again, but so fast and hard this time, she thought it might burst.
Sarika, who joined the group just in time to hear Violet’s last words, gasped and clapped her hands together. “You’re having a baby? Oh my God, that’s why you’ve been sick, and you didn’t want any alcohol or caffeine.” She rushed toward Elena and threw her arms around her from behind the couch. “I’m so happy for you. For both of you. How far along are you?” She glanced ecstatically back at her husband. “Rafe, did you hear? I told you something was up. Elena and Santo are…what? Why are you giving me that look?”
