In the dining area, a dreamy tablescape of floral china and teacups glimmers over delicate lace linens.
Tiered trays overflow with tiny sandwiches, scones, macarons, and pastel petit fours. It’s all so pretty that I have to pause to take everything in.
“You like it?” Abella asks.
My gaze drifts to my cousin, who’s currently flanked by the rest of my friends and all the Vitale brothers. The latter comes as a surprise, particularly when I see Romeo.
For one awkward second, I catch myself watching him as his eyes rake over me. His jaw tightens a fraction, and he does a slow blink before his gaze moves to mine, and I panic.
“It’s all so party,” I stammer, catching my blunder as heat rushes to my face. “I mean pretty. Tea. I really like tea.”
Good God, Gabi. Just stop talking.
Romeo’s lip twitches as Abella gives me a curious glance. “Well, come in and get cozy.”
“Right.” I nod stiffly.
I have no idea why I feel so awkward right now, but Romeo being here has totally thrown me for a loop. The last time heattended one of my birthday parties was nine years ago. The exception would be the parties held on the island, where he had no choice but to be somewhat adjacent. But this is different. His presence here indicates intentional participation.
I strip off my coat as Beppe skitters across the floor to greet me with a tail wag. Bending down, I scoop him up into my arms, giving him a kiss and a cuddle as I pause to let my heart settle.
Chantel hangs up both our coats in the closet, and we settle into the party together.
The men all migrate to the bar area, while Abella leads us to a tea cart.
“Cocktails first?” Abella gestures at the fancy martini glasses filled with cotton candy clouds.
“Definitely.” I perk up. Maybe that will take the edge off.
She pops a bottle of prosecco and pours it into each glass, letting the cotton candy dissolve.
“I have no idea how these are going to taste.” She laughs as she hands out the drinks. “But I guess we’ll find out.”
Once we all have our glasses, Abella raises hers while everyone else follows suit. This is our tradition, since my friends know I can’t handle the painfully long awkwardness of everyone singing to me.
“To our sweet, beautiful Gabriela. We all love you so much. Here’s to another year of growth, laughter, and love.” She emphasizes that last part with a smile. “Cin cin! Alla nostra ragazza preferita.”
I get a little teary-eyed, the way I usually do when Abella does the toast, but nobody makes a big deal of it as we all touch our glasses together and take a drink.
“Mmm.” Chantel swirls her glass after a sip. “That’s actually quite good.”
“I like it,” I agree.
“Of course you do.” Val smiles over the rim of her glass. “I can’t believe we haven’t done a carnival-themed party for you yet.”
“Good point.” Chantel smirks. “I bet you wouldlovethat.”
I shoot her a look, and we both share a secret laugh.
For the next twenty minutes, we mingle and catch up while the men pass Antonella around between them, each of them doting on her. It’s so strange to see a bunch of deadly men going soft for a baby, but it’s also fun to watch.
Eventually, Rafe infiltrates our side of the room, sneaking a macaron off the table before Mariella swats him away.
“Yours are on the sideboard.”
He grabs a plate and frowns as he looks down at the trays reserved for them. “What’s up with these tiny sandwiches?”
Michele ambles over to join him, giving the food a once-over. “They’re Gabi-sized.”
