He waved a hand. “You don’t need to sign for that.”
I nodded. “You take the security position and always remember that other thing.”
He nodded.
I stopped him again before he walked out of the door. “The other arrangement with Elio hasn’t been signed yet, has it?”
“No,” he said. His watch lit up, and he glanced at it. “Just in time, or there might have been war between your family and mine.”
Chapter20
Mia
“Monsters are a threat in our profession. We must always shake out our slippers before we put them on. Monsters can hide in the depths and can cause much pain and suffering to our most valuable feet. What is to become of the footless dancer? She shall not perform! Now, shake, shake, shake…”
Those were the words my great-grandmother had instilled in mamma. Those were the same words mamma had instilled in me. But the night of the performance, I’d been rushing, and the one time I didn’t shake, shake, shake…the monsters got to me.
Glancing down at my feet, I felt the fire the monsters had left behind. It had been a week, and they were still sore. They were wrapped for medical purposes, and mamma went over them with purple tape that matched my dress. She took ribbons and tied them around the top. The subtle touch gave it a ballerina feel.
Mamma lifted my chin. “It’s not your fault. Never take blame for something you didn’t do.” Then she disappeared into the kitchen.
I took a deep breath and straightened my dress. It had a slim-fitting bodice, full skirt, sweetheart neckline, and off-the-shoulder straps. Purple flowers were scattered over the soft material.
All in all, it was romantic, and I hoped it set the mood for tonight.
We were meeting Saverio and his family for dinner at his parents’ casa.ZioRocco thought that discussing our arrangement would go better if we made it a social affair, sincenonnoand Magpie had arrived a bit ago, along with mamma’s parents.
It was going to be a bigfamigliaaffair between Saverio’s family and mine. I just hoped no fists were raised and no guns were drawn after too much wine.
Mamma hurried back and forth from the kitchen to wherever, moving nonstop. The scent of roses wafted in between the yeasty smell of dough and the earthy scents of tomatoes, olive oil, and garlic.
She looked beautiful tonight, but I could tell she was trying to keep busy to cover her nervousness. She kept sending one of my brothers to the party with food she made while she fussed over papà or me.
She handed Maestro a Sicilian-patterned bowl with blood-orange salad in it. When she went to rush off again, I tried to stop her by grabbing her arm. She was too quick. I fell over on the bed with aplop.
“Mamma!” I said, sitting up. “It’s okay. I’m sure that’s plenty.”
“Too much,” papà grumbled. He sat in the rocking chair. He’d been quiet all day and not in a good mood.
It put me on edge some. If he didn’t like something that was said or done tonight, there was no telling what he’d do. He had a hard time letting go. And my wedding was going to be hard on him.
Even though I respected his feelings, a grin I couldn’t stop came to my face.My wedding.I went to lay back, to enjoy the smile, but mamma pulled me up before I could.
“Here, baby girl,” she said, spritzing me with some of my perfume. “All right. I think we’re ready to go.”
We both looked at papà.
He grumbled something in Italian.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I whispered. Then I held out my arms for him. The hardness around his eyes and mouth softened. It was something that meant a lot to him. In his language, it meant I loved him.
God did I. He was the man who created standards for me. He was the perfect example of what a man should be. Even though papà was rough around the edges, and all that Fausti blood pumped through his veins, there was never a doubt in my mind that he loved mamma. His children, too, for that matter. He took a bullet to the back for me. Would have taken more if he didn’t move with the speed of a lethal cat.
He picked me up like I weighed nothing. Like I was still the little girl he used to carry around. Even though his shoulder was bandaged and probably sore. He was stubborn enough not to let zioRocco do it tonight.
“Stop looking at me that way,” he said, his voice gruff.
“How am I looking at you?”
