I glare at him.
"I'm serious, boss. You've spent three days with this girl. Do you actually know anything about her? Besides the fact that she likes old people and has questionable eating habits?"
I think about it. What do I know about Liana Costa?
She's beautiful. She's educated. She sits on charity boards. She volunteers at a senior center. She speaks three languages. She watches terrible reality television. She doesn't drink whiskey, apparently, but she'll steal cognac. She's close with her sister. She had a grandmother she loved.
And she wants to take care of my grandmother.
"I know some things," I say finally.
"But not the important things," Bruno presses. "Like why she's really marrying you. What she wants out of this. What she expects."
"She knows what to expect. I told her. She'll have a comfortable life. A nice home. Freedom to pursue her interests."
"And she's good with that?"
I remember her face at dinner that first night. When I explained her role. She smiled. Agreed. Said she understood. But there was something in her eyes. Something I couldn't quite read.
"She said she was."
"Said," Tommy emphasizes. "But did you believe her?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Because women say what they think you want to hear, then do whatever they were planning to do anyway," Sal says. "That's how they operate."
"She's not operating. She's just..." I trail off. "She's just being herself."
"And you can't handle it," Bruno says quietly.
"That's not true."
"Boss, you're sitting here complaining about a girl who ate your dinner and wants to be nice to your grandmother. If you can't handle that, what happens when actual problems come up?"
He's got a point. A point I don't want to acknowledge.
"I can handle her."
"Yeah?" Paulie grins. "Prove it."
"How?"
"Stop complaining. Stop analyzing. Just get through it without losing your shit." He leans forward. "She wants to house your grandmother? Say yes. She wants to eat your dinner? Order extra. She wants to talk about reality TV? Pretend to care. You've done harder things. Whatever happens, buckle down and take it. Keep your eye on the prize."
"He's right," Tommy says. "You're overthinking this."
"I'm not overthinking anything."
"You're sitting here having a breakdown about steak and lettuce," Bruno points out. "That's overthinking."
I want to argue. Want to tell them they don't understand. That there's something about Liana that throws me off balance. Something I can't quite pin down. But maybe they're right. Maybe I am overthinking it. Maybe she's just an enthusiastic, slightly odd, very beautiful woman who's going to be my wife. And maybe I need to stop trying to figure her out and just accept it.
"Fine," I say. "You're right. I'll stop complaining."
"Great to hear." Paulie picks up his phone again. "Because honestly, boss, your problems aren't that bad. Hot girl wants to marry you and take care of your family? Cry me a river."
We move on to business. Territory disputes, shipment schedules, the usual. But I can feel Bruno watching me throughout the meeting. When the others leave for lunch, he stays behind.
