Quality or quantity is a decision I always struggle with. In this case, it was 2-gallons of the store brand ice cream, or a tiny little thing of Ben and Jerry’s.

Quality won out this time. I even bought some candy to crush up into the ice cream.

I figured that I’d get more overall enjoyment out of the higher quality ice cream, and even with the candy in there it will be better for me than eating 2 whole gallons. I know I’d have eaten the whole 2 gallons if I’d have bought it.

Sara comes out of her room and looks at me with her arms crossed. “PJs already? It’s like 5pm.”

“Are you my mom?” I snap.

“Nowhere to be tonight?” she asks.

I narrow my eyebrows at her, pull out my phone, and look at my text messages.

Princess, dinner at the house at 8. You WILL be there, and you WILL behave.

No, I didn’t respond. It’s my father, of course. And of course I’m not going to go.

“Nope,” I say, staring Sara in the eyes. Daring her to say something.

I had time to think it all over. She is the only person I told, and if Luca really didn’t tell anyone else, then–

Sara pulls her phone out and starts texting someone.

“Who you texting?” I ask.

She cocks her head at me. “No one. Just a friend.”

“Want some?” I ask, holding the ice cream container out. “I’ll get you a spoon and a bowl.”

She mostly ignores me, fixated on her phone. I start walking casually toward the kitchen, and when I am sure she isn’t looking, I rush toward her and snatch the phone out of her hand.

I look at the screen as I back away from her, making sure I’ll have time to read it.

“I don’t think she’s going to go,” I read aloud. “PJs and ice cream, looks depressed.”

“Bella,” Sara says, holding up a hand and giving me a big fake smile.

“Then,” I say, “Whoever you’re talking to–is it my father directly?–then he says: ‘Convince her to. What are we paying you for? Boss is gonna be furious if she doesn’t show.’”

Sara bites her lip and looks ready to cry.

“So not my father,” I say. “It must be Stefano. Or maybe Michael?”

“Bella…” she whines, lip quivering.

“How could you?” I ask, throwing the phone down onto the couch.

“Stefano is paying all of my tuition and most of my rent,” she blurts out. “And…and he said you’d never have to know or get hurt or–”

“I know,” I hiss. “And I’m hurt.”

“He just said that your father wanted to know you were okay. Since you wouldn’t talk to anyone in your family–”

“Oh,” I say, “So it’s my fault?”

The buzzer goes off. “Jesus, what now? Maybe it’s Stefano? Maybe he’s got your money?”

“Bella…” she says, but the fight is out of her.

“I think I’m going to move,” I say, opening the door.

Luca meets me with a wide smile. He’s wearing a really nice suit, his shoes shining almost as bright as his teeth. I feel a tingle in my chest, and I manage to forget for several heartbeats that Sara just betrayed me.

Then I remember. I turn to face her. “This is Luca,” I say. “You might want to tell Stefano he’s here.”

I check my phone. “Tell him that Luca Gallo arrived at 5:22pm.”

Sara cries and runs into her room, slamming the door.

“So it was her?” Luca asks me.

I nod. “I can’t believe I was so stupid. I really thought I’d cut myself completely off. I thought that even my father had at least accepted that.”

He gets an evil grin on his face and plants his hand on the wall, leaning casually. “You could live with me.”

I laugh. “I like to be able to eat my ice cream with candy, and wear my PJs without judgement.”

Then again, Sara is judging me, and telling Stefano exactly what I’m doing.

“Yeah,” Luca says, looking down at me. “That’s why I showed up early.”

“What do you mean?” I ask. “And why are you all dressed up?”

“Dinner,” he says. “At Big Tony’s. Meet the parents, yeah?”

Then it hits me. “Oh. Shit! You were invited? So it’s dinner. Us together–”

He laughs. “I didn’t get it at first either. But yeah, this is your father taking my truce seriously. I was worried you’d tell him to shove it.”

I cross my arms. “I didn’t even respond to him.”

He reaches out and touches my cheek, stroking it. I don’t hit his hand away, because it feels good. I need someone to be genuine with me, even if it’s Luca Gallo. Who would have ever thought that Luca would become the only person in my life who wasn’t trying to manipulate me?

“Princess,” he says. “You’ve got to go with me. This is…”

“A good business opportunity?” I ask him bitterly. “For you.”

“It’s not about that at all,” he says, pulling away from me, his face flushing red with anger. “This is about our kid having a chance. About being born into a world where our kid doesn’t have to choose a side.”

“Sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t really mean that. I was just still angry. Ice cream?”

I hold the Ben and Jerry’s out to him, the spoon stuck down into it. He takes it from my hand, and sets it down on the coffee table. “Bella. We need to get ready for dinner.”

I smile. “I was thinking I could just go like this. In my PJs.”

“Tony would love that,” Luca says, smiling. “But I don’t just mean we’ve gotta get you dressed. I mean we need to figure out what the hell we are going to tell him.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

“He’s going to grill us, right?”

“Of course,” I say.

“So we need to be on the same page, don’t we?”

I shrug. “Yeah, I guess.”

I start to play it all through my head. It seems awfully suspicious that my father is willing to sit down and have dinner with Luca and me together. What could his ulterior motive be? Maybe he’s planning to just drive a wedge between us, cause us to fight or disagree, and then pull me aside and say something like: ‘See, I told you so.’”

“You’re right,” I say. “We need to be on the same page. And I need to not look like shit.”

He looks down at me, pulls me into him with one arm, his hand reaching into the dip on the small of my back. “You always look good, Bella. You couldn’t look like shit even if you tried.”

I consider kissing him right there. Wouldn’t that put us on the same page?

Sara’s door creaks open, and she walks out and looks at us. Great. Just keep ruining everything, Sara.

“I’m going to move out,” she says. “I’m so sorry, Bella. I’ll never forgive myself. You were a friend to me, and you opened up to me, and I betrayed your trust.”

I sigh and look at Luca. He just shrugs.

“Sara,” I say. “Just tell Stefano you’re done. You can stay here. I forgive you. Like you said, you never actually hurt me.”

“Just me,” Luca says, pointing at his mostly healed face.

“I’m sorry, Luca,” she says.

“Nah,” Luca says, “It’s all part of the job description for me. I don’t blame you either.”