He hesitates, but then nods. “And tell me what I should say about the wines?”
“And tell you what you should say about the wines.”
* * *
Tino and Conniearrive right on time, and Luca jumps at the sound of the doorbell. “He’s here! I’ll get the door. Do we go straight to the dining room or—”
“Bring him in here.” We’ve been waiting in the living room, standing by the fireplace. “Drinks in here first, small talk, a few honeymoon photos.Thendinner.”
One day, I think to myself as Luca goes off to answer the door,and please God, let it be soon, we will have staff who can open the door for us, cook for us, do our laundry and take care of those pesky, petty, everyday needs.
They are the kinds of things Luca doesn’t even consider, the things he does by rote, because he’s never lived a real life of luxury.
But I have lived that kind of life. And I intend to again. WhenI’mdone with him, Luciano D’Amato will rule this City.
I hear Luca open the door and greet our guests. Their conversation floats through and I smile to myself when Tino says, in genuine surprise, “Luciano! You look wonderful!”
When Luca brings them into the sitting room, I’m standing to attention, ready to greet them in my own Armani suit. Hey, Luca’s not the only one who likes a bit of Giorgio.
My mouth is immediately full of Connie’s black, curly hair, as she flings herself into my arms, and kisses my cheeks three times. I know Luca thinks she’s just another of Tino’s flings and as stupid as the rest apparently have been—to hear Luca tell it, anyway. But I can see that Connie is a player, and I know she’s aiming for the big league. I have to respect that. And if she ends up where she wants to, Luca will have to respect her as well.
Luca takes Tino’s coat for him and I take Connie’s and we go together to put them in the coat closet under the staircase. While there, I give Luca a quick kiss on the cheek, just to make him smile. There. He looks less like a brooding bad boy when he smiles, and more like a pleasant dinner partner.
When we go back into the living room, where Connie is exclaiming about how beautiful everything is, Tino opens his arms for me to step into them. He hugs me close, kissing me three times, and then takes my hands. “Finch, is it?”
I nod. “That’s what they call me.”
“It is good to see you looking so well, eh? No more of these terrible drugs. No, you look after yourself now, for the sake of your husband. And Luca is treating you well?”
Luckily for Luca, I can honestly say that he is right now. “He’s everything I could ever want in a man,” I say. It’s the plain truth. Tino can see that, I think, because he just about tears up, and pulls me in for another hug, holding me close so I can smell the cigar smoke caught in his hair.
“We are so happy to have you in ourFamiglia,” he says, pulling back, but holding me by the biceps. “I have much respect for your father, and I knew your mother when she was a girl. We grew up in the same neighborhood, if you believe it. She was a very pretty young girl, such beautiful hair. She had her pick of the men, and she chose well with your father.”
“Thank you,” I say to Tino, because I don’t know what else to say. I knew Mom grew up in New York. It’s one reason I love this city. But I’m not sure why Morelli has brought it up. I give Luca a significantlookwhen Tino and Connie turn away to sit on the couch to remind him.
I want to know the truth. I don’t know what I’ll do if Tino Morelli really did order that hit, but I need to know.
Everything goes perfectly. From the aperitifs to dessert, the meal runs smoothly. Luca sounds knowledgeable about the wines I’ve chosen, although Connie sticks to mineral water. Tino is delighted that I’ve ordered his favorite courses from his favorite restaurant. And then thepièce de résistance: after-dinnerRomeo y Julietacigars for Tino and Luca to enjoy upstairs in the study.
“Us girls can look at more of your honeymoon snaps,” Connie squeaks to me, utterly without sarcasm.
“That sounds great!” I squeak back, and give Luca a wink at his warning glance.
And so Luca and Tino tramp slowly upstairs, and Connie and I hole up in the sitting room again, but rather than look at any more boring photos of the open sea from the deck of theMaddalena, I get Connie to let me scroll through her Instagram feed. It is truly astonishing to me how easy she’s making it for any interested person to track her movements and—more importantly—Tino Morelli’s.
I resolve to do everything in my power to keep my face off social media, not to mention out of the papers.
I’ve been stifling yawns for about half an hour when Connie grabs my hand and looks wistfully at my ring. “Must feel nice to belong to someone like Luca.”
“It does.”
“Safe.”
“Yes.”
She squeezes my hand and leans in sharply. “Can I tell you something personal? Something secret? About me and Tino?” she whispers, eyes imploring.
I resolve that I will never confide in anyone about me and Luca.
