Summer on Sunshine Bay, page 9
Not the getting-emotional part per se—she was a passionate woman, so strong emotions were part of her personality—but she could count on two hands the number of times she’d truly cried in her lifetime. Ninety percent of them were due to James and Lila. However, since the day she’d turned fifty, happy stories her customers shared, sappy commercials, even a particularly beautiful sunset, made her cry. She’d even found herself watching rom-coms, and she was the least romantic woman she knew.
She bent down and opened a bottom cupboard in search of a serving tray, nearly banging her head on the counter when, from behind her, James said, “Would you mind not slamming the cupboards? The Westfields might get the wrong impression.”
She straightened and turned to him. “I need a serving tray, and this kitchen has everything but.” It was a gorgeous kitchen, a chef’s dream with its top-of-the-line appliances, huge white granite island with a cooktop, and fabulous natural lighting.
He frowned as he moved past her and opened a drawer in the island, then handed her a silver tray. “Are you crying?”
“No,” she scoffed, angling the tray so she could see herself in the reflection. It was hard to tell, but she thought a bit of mascara had run down her cheek.
He held up his finger. “Do you mind?” he asked as he moved closer. He was near enough that she could feel the heat from his body. He smelled like ocean breezes and fresh laundry.
She shook her head, not trusting her voice.
He held her gaze as he gently smoothed his finger over her cheek. “I suggested Lila stay here because I thought it would be easier on everyone, Eva. I didn’t do it to hurt you.”
The muscles low in her stomach quivered in response to his touch, to the feel of him standing so close. It reminded her of that summer in London when they were young and in love. Her skin warmed, and her pulse quickened as the memories washed over her. They couldn’t get enough of each other back then. They’d said things, made promises that neither of them could keep.
“Mom, Dad, what’s going on?”
Their daughter’s voice broke the spell, and they jumped apart. Eva turned. “I had a lash in my eye.”
Lila eyed them warily, and then her gaze dropped to the pastry box in her hands. She put it on the island. “David’s mom brought some desserts.”
“From Windemere?” Eva asked, flicking open the lid with her tangerine-painted fingernail. “How nice.”
“Lila, why don’t you show the Westfields around while your mother and I prepare the tea?”
“It’s okay, you can show them around, Dad. I’ll help Mom.”
“I need to talk to your mother for a minute, sweetheart.”
Lila looked from her father to Eva. “You’re not going to fight, are you?”
“Why are you looking at me? If anyone is going to start a fight, it’s your father.”
James snorted. “Yeah, right. Don’t worry, Lila. We’ll be fine.”
Their daughter placed a hand on her stomach. “Okay, but don’t be long. David and his father have a meeting at three.”
“I thought she would’ve outgrown her nervous stomach by now,” Eva murmured as Lila left the kitchen.
“She’s anxious about introducing you to David’s parents.”
“Oh, so this is on me?” She shook her head. “Typical. Why don’t you take the Westfields on a tour of the house? I can make the tea.”
“I don’t trust that you won’t put salt on the desserts Jennifer brought.”
Eva’s defensive response stalled in the back of her throat at the teasing smile on his face. “Pft. As if I’d need to stoop so low. Those fancy French pastries can’t hold a candle to my biscotti, cannoli, and anginetti,” she said, and began removing her pastries and cookies from the hamper, arranging them on the tray.
She glanced at James as he filled a kettle with water. “So what did you want to talk to me about? Or was that just an excuse because you don’t trust Lila and me to make the tea?” The British were so particular about their tea.
“You both have a habit of not warming the teapot, and you let the tea steep too long, but no, I wanted to run something by you. There was another reason besides more room that I wanted Lila to stay here.”
“My apartment isn’t that small, James. And Lila was perfectly happy growing up there. We—” The latter was true, the former not so much.
“Can we not do this, please?” He plugged in the kettle and turned to her. “I’m thinking about buying the beach house for Lila as a wedding gift, and I wanted her to spend some time here to see if she likes it.”
Eva tamped down the tiny flicker of resentment she felt because she couldn’t afford to give their daughter such an extravagant gift. Over the years she’d come to terms with the fact that she’d never be able to do for their daughter what James could. “How could she not love it? It’s gorgeous. Although it’s very white.”
His lips twitched. “I’m sure Lila will let you help decorate.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You know perfectly well she won’t let me near this place with a paintbrush.”
He smiled as he warmed the teapot with hot water from the tap. “So you don’t have a problem with me buying it for her?”
She appreciated his asking. “Are you putting it in her name only?”
He nodded. “Don’t get me wrong. David loves Lila very much, and he’s a good man. He’s stable and responsible.”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s a stuffed shirt with absolutely no personality.”
“You barely know him. Give him a chance.”
“So why put the beach house in Lila’s name only?”
He emptied the teapot, then unplugged the whistling kettle and poured the boiling water into it. “As much as you think I spoil her, I really don’t. And that’s mostly because she won’t let me. Lila’s independent and wants to make it on her own. I admire and respect that about her.”
Eva smiled, pleased that all the hard-earned life lessons she and her mother and sister had drilled into her daughter had stuck. Sage and Willow were the same way. But Eva had to give credit where it was due. James’s parents had been wealthy, but he’d also insisted on making it on his own merit.
“And as much as I like David and think he and Lila will be happy together,” James continued as he reached into a cupboard for teacups and dessert plates, “I don’t ever want her to feel trapped in an unhappy marriage.”
Eva picked up the tray of pastries. “You’re a good father. Lila’s lucky to have you.”
James’s head came up, and his gaze roamed her face as if he were waiting for the punch line. Then he gave her a tentative smile. “Thank you. I appreciate that, Eva. More than you know.”
The words, as much as the quiet way he stated them, bothered her. Did he really not know how wonderful a father he was? She remembered some of their fights over the years and wondered if she bore some responsibility for that. And then she responded as she always did when she got uncomfortable or emotional and made a gimme gesture with her hand. “My turn now.”
He shook his head and laughed, picking up the tray with the teapot, teacups, dessert plates, and napkins. “You’ll never change.”
“Admit it, you wouldn’t want me to.”
“Surprisingly, I think you’re right.”
Their eyes met and held for a moment too long. “Let’s go meet the parents,” she said, sounding breathy and flustered, which was exactly how she felt at that moment.
“For Lila’s sake, please don’t bring up the Rosetti curse or tell Westfield what you think of him owning Windemere.”
There was no sign of that breathy, flustered voice when she said, “I am who I am, and I don’t change for anyone, James. Some people actually think it’s one of my best qualities. And if you, our daughter, or the Westfields have a problem with that, you’ll all have to deal with it, because it’s not my problem. It’s yours.”
“Eva, don’t—”
She flipped him off and walked into the living room. Lila and David and his parents were just coming in from touring the two-tier deck. David’s mother wore a pretty pink floral sundress with delicate pink sandals, while his father wore a powder-blue button-down with white pants and white dock shoes without socks. Eva rolled her eyes at his outfit as she placed the tray on the rattan-and-glass coffee table, and then she straightened and smiled.
David’s mother came forward with an outstretched hand and a frozen smile. She was a beautiful woman with dark shoulder-length hair and warm dark eyes, who had perhaps gotten a little too much Botox—the frozen smile and shiny forehead were dead giveaways. Her husband obviously went to the same plastic surgeon. But whereas his wife’s eyes were warm, his were cool and condescending.
“I’m David’s mother, Jennifer, and you must be Lila’s cousin,” the woman said, taking Eva’s hand in hers.
Eva smiled. “I’m Lila’s mother, Eva, and I can tell you and I are going to be fast friends, Jennifer,” she said, clasping the woman’s hand between both of hers.
“Gavin Westfield the Third,” David’s father said, nudging his wife out of the way to shake Eva’s hand.
Unable to resist, she said, “Eva Rosetti the Fourth.” The man was a pompous prig.
Beside her, James choked on a laugh, which he covered with a cough.
“It’s not possible. Only men use the suffix,” Gavin said.
“Actually, that’s not true, but even if it was, it wouldn’t stop me from using it.”
“Why don’t we all sit down?” James said, and took a seat on the white leather couch opposite the matching love seat where Jennifer and Gavin now sat.
Eva moved to sit on the white leather club chair closest to Jennifer, but David got there first. Lila glanced at her father and Eva before sitting in the club chair beside David. James raised an eyebrow at Eva and patted the place beside him.
Instead of joining him, Eva picked up the tray of pastries in one hand and the dessert plates and napkins in the other and offered them to Gavin and Jennifer.
Gavin waved his hand. “None for me, thanks.”
“They look delicious, Eva,” Jennifer said, reaching for a cannoli.
Gavin stopped her with a hand on her arm. “You had carbs at lunch, remember?” He smiled. “We want to look good for the wedding photos.”
“I’ll have one, Mom,” Lila said, no doubt in an effort to draw Eva’s narrow-eyed attention from Gavin.
It didn’t work. “You don’t want to offend me, do you, Gavin? I made these especially for you and Jennifer.” Eva put down the tray, piled several desserts on a plate, and handed it and a napkin to David’s mother. “You’re the last person who has to worry about their weight, Jennifer. You’re gorgeous.”
Jennifer hesitated, glancing at her husband before taking the plate. She offered Eva a sweet smile. “Thank you.”
“Sit down, Mom. I’ll get ours,” Lila said as she got up from the chair. She chose a pastry from Windemere and a biscotto each for herself and David.
“Anyone want tea?” James asked.
“Yes, please,” Jennifer said.
“I’ll take mine black, Eva,” Gavin said.
“I don’t do tea. That’s James’s specialty. He’s very fussy about his tea.” Eva smiled at James. “Milk and two sugars for me, darling.”
“Obviously you don’t worry about your weight, Eva,” Gavin said with a jocular laugh that faded when he glanced at James, who’d stopped pouring the milk into Eva’s teacup to stare at him.
“Life’s too short to worry about something so ridiculously superficial,” Eva said, patting James’s knee before reaching for a wedding cookie. She changed course and took a pastry from Windemere instead.
“They’re amazing, aren’t they?” Gavin asked after she’d taken a bite.
Eva nodded. “They are, but you might want to suggest to your pastry chef that his choux could use a touch more butter.”
“He graduated from Le Cordon Bleu in Paris, so no offense, but I don’t think he needs your advice.”
Eva shrugged. “None taken.” She smiled at Jennifer. “How was your cannoli?”
“Divine, and these iced cookies are delicious too.”
“I’m glad you like them. They’re Italian wedding cookies,” she said, accepting the cup of tea from James.
Gavin took a cannoli from the tray. “Not bad,” he said after swallowing the last bite. “Where did you get your culinary degree?”
“From my nonna and my mother.”
Eva had a feeling he wanted to roll his eyes but didn’t dare with James there. Instead he said, “That’s right. You own an Italian restaurant in Sunshine Bay.”
“We do. It’s been in my family for three generations.”
“Best Italian food outside of Italy,” James said.
“I love Italian food,” Jennifer said.
“Good, because I planned to invite you all to dinner tomorrow. I thought we could choose the wedding menu then.”
“We have the wedding menu sorted,” Gavin said. Then, after glancing in James’s direction, he added, “But we can come to dinner tomorrow.”
Jennifer reached for a leather-bound book propped up against the love seat. She leaned forward, offering it to Eva with an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid I got a little carried away and started planning the wedding. Lila was so busy with the move, I thought I could take some pressure off her.” She cast another apologetic smile in Lila’s direction. “But I’m afraid I may have overstepped.”
“You didn’t,” Lila said, smiling at David’s mother. “Your ideas are amazing.”
Eva paged through the book. Overstepped? Jennifer had everything planned right down to the smallest detail. Eva glanced at her daughter, who was chewing on her nail while Jennifer looked equally nervous. “I think you missed your calling. You should have been a wedding planner, Jennifer. Lila’s right, this is amazing.”
“Really? You’re not mad?”
“Of course not. Why would I be?”
“You’re the mother of the bride.”
“Pft.” She waved her hand. “As Lila will tell you, I’m not…I’m clueless when it comes to weddings.”
“I’d be happy to help you. We still have so much to do.”
“We do?” Eva and Lila asked at the same time.
“Oh yes, we have to shop for the wedding dress, pick the color scheme, and flower arrangements.” She came over to kneel beside Eva. “These were just ideas I had. I thought this would be the perfect style of dress for Lila. And I thought this cantaloupe color would show beautifully against the sand and water.”
“We should probably talk about what the plans for the weekend are and which events will be held at Windemere and which will be held at La Dolce Vita,” James said.
Eva didn’t know what came over her, but she had a sudden urge to lean over and kiss him.
“There’s nothing to talk about. We’re holding everything at Windemere,” David’s father said.
“Gavin,” Jennifer gasped.
“What? Windemere is a wedding venue. Can you say the same about La Dolce Vita, Eva? From what I’ve heard—”
“It’s our daughter’s wedding, and if she wants the entire weekend held at La Dolce Vita, then that’s where it will be held,” James said in a voice that offered no compromise. He was clearly in his CEO mode.
As the two fathers argued, their voices rising, Eva struggled not to laugh. And James had been worried about her making a scene. Eva glanced at Lila and David, who were sinking lower in their chairs, and sighed.
“Be quiet, both of you. Lila and David are the ones getting married. They’ll decide where the events for their wedding will take place without any interference from us.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Lila said with a grateful smile. “David and I will talk about it, but I’d like to hold a couple of the events at La Dolce Vita.”
“Lila, I don’t think—” David began, looking from his father to his bride-to-be.
Lila crossed her arms. “You don’t think what, David?”
Eva ducked her head, hiding her smile. It looked as if the wedding might be off without any help from her. She reached for a cannoli. Life was sweet indeed.
Chapter Ten
Come on, live a little, Lila. Vanilla ice cream is boring,” Willow said as they placed their orders at Sunshine Bay Creamery the next day. “Take a taste of mine.”
Lila made a face at her cousin’s offer of her bubble gum ice cream cone. “Vanilla is not boring. It’s a classic,” Lila said, thanking the teenager behind the counter when she handed her the cone.
“Boring,” Sage said. “I’ll have three scoops of Boston cream pie, thanks.”
Willow and Lila shared a glance. Sage was a one-scoop woman. She must’ve caught their silent exchange because she said, “Don’t ask,” and took the cone from the server, paying for their order.
“So how did meet-the-parents go?” Willow asked, acknowledging several customers in line with a smile as they walked out of the creamery.
They took a seat at one of the tables on the patio, a sherbet-colored striped umbrella shielding them from the sun. Thankfully, the heat wave had broken, and it was seventy-two degrees, the sweet smell of the yellow flowering bushes that bordered the patio and the sidewalk on Main Street wafting past them on a gorgeous ocean breeze.
“Yeah, give us the scoop. Did Zia Eva behave herself?” Sage asked.
“Mom was amazing. David’s mother adored her. She was all Jennifer could talk about when I joined them for dinner at Windemere last night. It was Dad who was the problem.”
“Zio James? No way. I don’t believe you,” Willow said, and Sage agreed. Lila’s cousins thought her father walked on water.
“I’m serious. If it wasn’t for Mom, I swear Dad and David’s father would’ve gotten into a fistfight. Honestly, though, at one point, I wanted to punch Gavin myself. He was a jerk to Mom. I still can’t believe she let it go.” It was why Lila hadn’t said anything to David’s father. She’d been sure her mother would eviscerate him with her sharp wit and her even sharper tongue.
