At six-thirty, I'm dressed in my best suit, and heading to the Costa estate to pick up Liana. I've got reservations at seven-thirty, which gives us time to drive there, have a drink, settle in.
Tonight, will be perfect.
I pull up to the Costa gates, and the guards wave me through. They know who I am now. Soon, this'll be one of my homes too. My territory. My empire.
The thought sits well.
I park and head to the door. Ring the bell. Wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Finally, Gia answers. Liana's younger sister. She's got that same dark hair, same sharp eyes, but she's looking at me like I'm a door-to-door salesman.
"Santino." She cracks the door halfway and doesn't invite me in. "Liana's almost ready."
"Almost?" I check my watch. "We have reservations."
"I know. She knows. She's just..." Gia trails off. "She'll be down in a minute."
She closes the door in my face.
I stand on the porch, waiting. Check my watch again. Seven o'clock. We need to leave now if we're going to make it. If you’re late, they give your reservation away. At seven-fifteen, the door finally opens. And Liana steps out.
She looks incredible. Different from last night. Less formal. The dress is red, fitted, with some kind of wrap detail I don't understand but appreciate. Her hair's loose and wavy.
She put effort into this. A lot of effort.
"Sorry!" She's breathless, clutching a small purse. "I couldn't decide what to wear. Do I look okay?"
"You look beautiful. But we need to go. Reservations are at seven-thirty."
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" She rushes to the car. "I was trying on six different dresses and couldn't decide and then I had to redo my makeup because the first makeup didn't match the dress and—"
"It's fine." I open her door. "We'll still make it."
We won't make it.
The drive is spent with her talking. About her day, about the dresses she tried on, about some show she's watching. I'm only half-listening, focused on getting us to the restaurant before we lose the reservation.
We pull up at seven-forty. Ten minutes late, but salvageable.
"This place is gorgeous!" Liana's staring at the restaurant like it's a palace. "I've always wanted to come here!"
"Really?" I hand my keys to the valet. "You've never been?"
"No! Papa always said it was too expensive for casual dining." She actually does air quotes. "But this isn't casual, right? This is a real date?"
A real date. The words sit strangely for a couple expected to marry soon. "Yes. A real date."
Her smile is bright. "I'm so excited! Aren’t you?"
Inside, Marconi's is exactly what I wanted. Dim lighting, white tablecloths, quiet elegance. The maître d' recognizes me immediately.
"Mr. Marcello. Welcome." He doesn't mention that we're late. He’s professional. "Your table is ready."
We're led to a corner booth, private and perfect. Liana slides in, looking around with wide eyes.
