Chapter Fifteen
Dinner is, in fact, a whole thing.
A long, gleaming table seats five on each side, with one chair on each end. Place settings have already been put at each one, with two tall candelabras and a round flower arrangement at the center. This room also has a fireplace and a huge, sparkling chandelier.
We seem to be the last to get there. Mateo, unsurprisingly, sits at the head of the table. On the opposite end is Adrian, who glances up at me as we enter, but quickly becomes distracted by a young blond woman leaning over to fill his water glass. A man I don’t recognize sits at the first chair on Adrian’s left beside Francesca. There are three empty seats next to her, but the other side of the table is completely empty. Vince heads for the seats on the empty side, closest to Adrian, but Mateo speaks up.
Indicating the two seats to his left, he says, “These two are your seats.”
“No one else is coming?” Vince asks.
“Not tonight.” Then, to me, Mateo explains, “On Sundays there are more people. During the week, it varies.”
Vince goes to take the seat nearest Mateo, but Mateo shakes his head. Vince’s jaw locks, but he pulls the chair out and gestures for me to sit anyway, then he takes the seat to my left so I’m essentially sandwiched between them. Fun.
The blonde girl makes it to Mateo’s glass, and I notice when he glances up at her and smiles, she begins to glow, smiling more than I can imagine Mateo’s attention ever making a person smile.
At the other end of the table, Adrian slams his seat back and stands, startling everyone.
“Bathroom,” he says shortly, before storming out.
I glance over at Vince for explanation, but he just gives a subtle head-shake.
Unconcerned, Mateo addresses the two at the other end of the table. “Francesca, Alec, this is Vince’s girlfriend, Mia.”
“Hi, Mia,” Francesca says, offering a faint smile.
The man just acknowledges me with a nod, looking up at the blonde as she fills my water glass, then Vince’s. “Can you bring me a beer when you get done with that?”
“Of course,” she says, taking her water pitcher and disappearing through a doorway.
“That’s Elise,” Vince tells me. “She’s a maid here.”
“You have a maid,” I remark, not sure why I’m surprised. Someone would have to keep such an enormous house clean.
“Two, actually. Maria’s in the kitchen, but once the food comes out I’m sure you’ll meet her, too.”
Mateo takes a sip of his water, his eyes on me. “You look very nice in Francesca’s dress, Mia. I think you should keep it.”
I feel my cheeks flush. “Oh, thank you. I couldn’t—”
“Francesca doesn’t mind. Do you, Francesca?” he asks, without looking her way.
“No, I have plenty,” she tells me.
I have to look away from Mateo, because he won’t stop looking at me and I’m afraid my face is going to catch on fire. I look at the intricate blue lace design on the runner at the center of the table instead.
“There,” Mateo says easily. “Now you have something to wear to dinner.”
An edge to his voice, Vince says, “I will get her a couple of dresses for dinners.”
Mateo merely smiles.
Vince is still agitated, though, and I don’t know why he’s letting something so minor get to him. Out of all the bullshit that’s happened today, a relaxing dinner seems better than one fraught with little fights I don’t even understand.
“Were you able to reach your mother?” Mateo asks me.
“I didn’t talk to her, but I left a message about staying at Lena’s. It shouldn’t be an issue. Normally I’d have to babysit my siblings, but as luck would have it, I didn’t tonight or in the morning. I do have to watch them after school tomorrow though.”
“Until when?”
“Um… I—four, I think.”
“Good. You can make it back for dinner.”
A little uncomfortable, I say, “For just dinner, sure. I don’t think she’d let me stay the night again. I really very rarely spend the night at my friend’s house, so… she won’t accept that excuse indefinitely.”
Elise is back with a large bottle of wine. She starts pouring at Mateo’s seat, then pours some for me and Vince, despite neither of us being old enough to drink.
“I want you to set up a dinner with your mother,” he tells me, grabbing the wine glass and taking a sip.
“With…you?”
He nods. “Me, you, Vince. I want to meet her. I’ll tell you the place, we’ll work out a time this week.”
“This week?” I ask, eyes widening. “She’s only even met Vince one time, and barely.”
“Does she know who he is?”
I pause, awkwardness creeping up over me as I shake my head. No, weirdly enough, I did not tell my mother that the guy I was sort of seeing was from a mob family.
I can’t tell whether or not that news pleases him. “Friday night works best for me.”
I know she works until two this Friday, but I don’t know if she’s doing anything after. I guess she might be willing to cancel her plans for a dinner with Mateo Morelli. “I’ll ask.”
Adrian comes back and settles in at the side of the table opposite Mateo, I wonder about the order of things here. Vince said the core people were all Morellis, so I assume Adrian is, but he doesn’t resemble Mateo. Alec does—a watered down, less attractive version with a slightly bigger nose, but you can tell he’s a Morelli. Francesca has the same coloring, the pitch-black hair and chocolate brown eyes. She’s really very pretty, and like me, she’s wearing a black dress tonight.
Adrian, though, has smaller eyes, a different nose, hair a little lighter than chestnut—none of the same coloring. Only half his face is scarred, and I wonder if he’d look as intense without it.
Until Elise approaches him again to deliver his salad, then his whole demeanor softens.
I make a note to ask Vince about that whole situation later.
I’m surprised when Cherie comes through the doors next, holding two baskets of bread. She places one at each end of the table, then leaves again, coming back with two little dishes of dipping oil.
I frown, confused. Once she slips away again, I turn to Vince. “Is Cherie a maid?”
“Uh, sort of,” he says. “Her mom’s a maid. Maria. Cherie helps out.”
“So, she lives here?”
“In the servants’ quarters,” he says with a nod, reaching for his wine to take a sip.
“There are servants’ quarters?” I question, watching him with wide eyes. Now that he’s had a drink, I think I might, too. I thought maybe Elise poured it by mistake, but Mateo doesn’t seem to care.
Biting back a smile, Vince says, “I’ll take you on a tour after dinner.”
“I have so much to learn,” I say, under my breath.
“That’s an understatement,” Adrian murmurs.
---
After dinner, Vince gives me the tour, as promised. There’s an indoor pool for when it’s too cold to swim in the one outside, a gym, an obscene number of suites for family members to live in, a library, a movie theater room, and so many other rooms that many of them are practically empty. When we get to the servants’ quarters, it gets homier. I wasn’t sure what to expect of a servants’ quarter, but it’s basically a house within a house. There’s a separate hallway behind the kitchen leading to it, and like a house, it has a living room, dining room, and kitchen all in an open space. Down a hall there are four bedrooms and two bathrooms, all occupied.
“Who all lives here?” I ask him.
“Marie, Cherie, Elise, and Mateo’s nanny, Ju.”
“Mateo’s nanny?”
Nodding, he tells me, “He has a daughter, Isabella.”
“She wasn’t at dinner,” I say with a frown.
“She takes dinner with the nanny.”
“Well, I didn’t even realize he was married. His wife wasn’t at dinner?”
“He’s not. They were never married, but Beth isn’t around anymore.”
I wonder why, but I don’t ask. He goes to lead me out, but I glance back, noticing a staircase. “What’s upstairs?”
“Mateo’s dad.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “He keeps his dad with the servants? Isn’t he the actual boss of the family?”
“Until he dies,” Vince verifies. “There’s no love lost there. Mateo’s… Mateo, but his dad was a real lunatic. He didn’t even want anything to do with this life when he was younger, but he ended up married to a woman who didn’t love him and she eventually cheated on him, got pregnant, no one knew who the dad was—I guess the whole situation sort of made him… cruel. I could tell you horror stories about what he did to her and Mateo’s mom, but I’ll spare you. Suffice it to say, they’re both dead, and Mateo’s mom killed herself just to get away from him.”
“Jesus,” I whisper, feeling an unexpected swell of sympathy for Mateo. “How old was he?”
“Five. And he found her.”
My stomach starts to feel ill just trying to picture what that must have been like for such a young child. Sadness washes over me, sort of ruining me for the tour.
“Why don’t we do the grounds outside tomorrow after dinner?” I suggest, knowing that’s next. “I actually do have some homework before bed, and I’d kind of just like to chill out for a little bit. It’s been a long day.”
He tucks me into his side, dropping a kiss on top of my head. “Yeah, it has.”
---
Funnily enough, Vince and I spend our first full night together not having sex. After I finish my homework, we cuddle on the couch and watch some TV. When he loses interest, he starts pestering me until we’re kissing and touching, but it’s less sexual and more comforting just to be with each other.
I obviously didn’t bring anything to sleep in, so he gives me one of his T-shirts for tonight.
When we turn off the lights and climb into bed, I curl up in his arms and we talk until I drift to sleep.
Waking up the next morning is a little jarring, because I’m not used to waking up in strange places. Vince is already in the shower, and when he gets out, he tells me there’ll be breakfast waiting downstairs.
Breakfast is usually a Pop-Tart, a bowl of cereal, or a cup of yogurt, depending on how much time I have. Breakfast at Vince’s house is eggs with bacon, home fries, toast, and little bowls of fruit. Also orange juice poured from a crystal decanter. It’s a hard life.
Mateo’s not around, but Cherie is at the table this time, studying some handwritten notes while she eats. She doesn’t even look up when I come in.
“Vince didn’t leave already, did he?” I ask, since I expected him at the table.
Finally looking up, she says, “Oh, no, not yet. He’s in with Mateo.” After another minute of studying her notes, she finally stuffs them back inside a folder. “How was your first night as a mob wife?” she asks, lightly.
I laugh shortly, caught off guard. “I wouldn’t call myself a mob wife, but last night was nice. Much nicer than the early parts of the day,” I add, derisively.
“Yeah. I’m glad it more or less worked out for you, though. I don’t know all the details, but I know Vince was really worried about Mateo ever finding out about you.”
I stab a quartered strawberry, not offering anything more on that since my life sort of depends on my discretion.