She leads me four steps into the foyer like we need the extra space. The rug underfoot muffles her steps. She hooks a thumb in the crook of her elbow and inhales like she’s about to cross a street into traffic.
“Everyone’s coming early,” she says. “Shockingly punctual for this family.”
“It’s a first,” I say.
She smiles, and it dies fast. “I need a favor. Not a small one.”
“I’m listening.”
“Can you help me keep an eye on things tonight?” she says, voice low. “I mean really keep an eye. People are…” She searches for the right word. “On edge.”
“They are,” I say. “You too.”
“Me too,” she admits. “Luca most of all, but he’ll never say it. He’s more nervous than I’ve ever seen him.”
“That says something,” I say.
“It says a lot,” she says. “He’s hiding it well. Mostly for my benefit. But you know how he gets when he’s white-knuckling. He goes very quiet and very…” She rolls a wrist. “He tries to engineer the room.”
“Control everything,” I say.
“Exactly.” She cracks a quick grin. “You Conti men and the spreadsheets in your heads.”
“I don’t have a spreadsheet,” I say.
“You have a ledger,” she counters, then sobers. “Caterina is nervous. When she’s nervous, she fills the air. Sometimes with jokes, sometimes with a match and gasoline. Vito can be… unpredictable and harsh. I expect Nico will be fine. Outwardly anyway.”
“You want a hall monitor,” I say.
“I want a mediator,” she says, then softens her voice. “I want you.”
I look at her for a beat. She doesn’t ask for favors like this often. Not from me. Not from anyone. A woman not used to relying on others until recently.
“Of course,” I say. No hesitation.
She lets out a breath of relief. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And listen,” she adds. “Lucia… I don’t know what tonight will be like for her. Or for them with her. I want it to be friendly and… familial. That’s all I care about. We can fight tomorrow.”
“It will be, Elena,” I promise. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Her eyes shine for a second, and then she shuts it down in a way that reminds me of what an effective prosecutor she was. “Okay.”
She folds her arms, then forces her shoulders back. “Okay.”
I glance toward the hall to the kitchen again. The muscle in my jaw wants to move, wants to say I’ll be back in five. I want to see Bianca in her element—head down, hands sure, the stillness I clocked at the restaurant turned into momentum. I want tostand in a doorway and watch her work. I’ve tasted her food, but haven’t seen her actually work.
Elena reads me too well. She shakes her head, amused. “You’ll just be disrupting her, you know.”
“I’m not going for a chat,” I say. “I’m going to check on my new employee.”
She snorts at the word. “I’ve made excuses to get back there a few times and pulled Vivian aside a few more times. Vivian says she’s ahead on prep. Everything was here on time and ready to go.”
That pulls a small grin out of her. “She also made a list on a dry-erase board that impressed even Vivian, andthatis not easy.”
“Good,” I say, and there it is again, the feeling in my chest that shouldn’t be because of a woman working for me. I look past Elena to ground myself in the house again.
