This wasn’t the first time she’d ridden shotgun in a car with him. The first person he’d driven when he’d passed his driver’s test three months before graduation was Najah.
Unlike states that allowed kids to get their license at sixteen, you had to wait until eighteen in New York. Sure, you could get a junior license before that. But you were restricted to driving to and from school. His father knew he would never abide by that, so he wouldn’t let Tomasso take his driver’s test until he was eighteen.
Back then, he could reach across the console and rub his hand across her thigh. But the way her shoulder was damn near embedded into the door, he didn’t think he should try that just now.
“You know my dad and his two business partners started Triple M before I was born. They took it from a single meat market in Brooklyn and turned it into one of the largest food distribution companies in the country.”
She nodded as she spoke, silently encouraging him to continue.
“My dad, he recently found out he’s got some health concerns to deal with.” Her eyes widened as she sat up straighter in her seat. “He’s fine, Najah. But stress could put him at risk for some nasty complications. His doctor advised him to retire. Unfortunately, the way their partnership agreement is set up, he has to let his partners buy him out, or get their approval to sell his share of the partnership to someone else. Dad has put his heart and soul into that place. It’s his legacy and he wants to keep it in the family.”
She shrugged, but he kept her eyes on him as he spoke.
“So why doesn’t your dad just name you as his successor? I’m sure his partners would approve.”
If only it were that simple.
“My dad and his partners, they’re old school. I do good work for the company. But I’m thirty-three and single, and I haven’t brought any prospects around. To them, that means I’m not reliable. Not family business material.”
“Is your brother still an entitled, skirt-chasing prick?”
He chuckled as he rounded the corner, turning into his parents’ Brookeville driveway. Even though the company was ridiculously successful by the time Tomasso had finished middle school, his parents had refused to leave their Mills Basin home in Brooklyn until both Tomasso and his brother Freddy had graduated high school.
Now, they were living in a large colonial in Long Island, with a pool in the back, enjoying the fruits of all their hard work.
“Freddy is still an asshole, and as much as they feel my lack of a wife makes me unreliable, they know damn well Freddy ruins everything he touches.”
“So, you’re your father’s only hope?”
He parked the car, taking a deep breath before he turned to her.
“I am. I can’t let all he’s worked for disappear without at least trying to save it. I can’t let them force him out.”
She ran her hands up and down her thighs before she turned in her seat and placed her hand over his. “Your parents were always nice to me when we were dating. Even though your dad was this big shot, he never made me feel out of place because I was a scholarship kid. That meant something to me.”
She didn’t say anything more. She didn’t have to. From the squeeze of her fingers and the softness in her dark brown eyes, he knew she was invested.
“All right, Moretti. Let’s go get this fake engagement underway, then.”
That was his girl. The one who was always down for whatever when it came to people she cared about. She was about to reach for the door, but he held on to her hand, keeping her seated.
He rooted around in his jacket pocket until his fingers grasped the cool metal.
“I hope this meets your approval.”
Before she could respond, he slid the four-carat pear-shaped diamond on her finger before he pressed a gentle kiss to her hand.
Her eyes were wide and fixed on the large stone. She shook her head slightly and he held up a hand to stop whatever she was about to say.
“Nothing is too much or too good for you, Sweetness. Even if it is for a fake engagement.”
***
“Oh my goodness, Najah!”
Arleen Moretti grabbed Najah in a bear hug and squeezed for all she was worth. Najah melted into the woman’s arms just like she had when Najah was a teenager.
Almost every day for four years, Najah had gone home with Tomasso after school, and his mother would greet her like this, like she was family and belonged there.
