“Right.” That thought hadn’t occurred to her until she’d stepped into his apartment and seen it set up like a cozy home. She’d had no idea about his life in Portland. “Well, I’m here for a week.”
He faced her with a raised eyebrow.
She shrugged. “I decided to take my holiday time around Mariana’s wedding. Tag on a little road trip up to Canada and visit Vanessa in Vancouver for another week. But I don’t have to go up for that long. I could extend my time here, so we can take advantage of my family being in town and do something together with everyone. If that works with your schedule.”
“I have meetings and during these early days of construction, I like to stay close to the site to make sure things get off to a good start, but otherwise I can make time where needed. I travel back to San Francisco at least twice a month. So it shouldn’t be a problem when—after your two weeks of vacation—you go home. We can continue making enough public appearances together.”
Funny how her plan was suddenly under his control. Just like Joel though, taking a plan and making it work,asking questions, thinking it through, and strategizing while she tended to let an idea lead her. For this reason, conversation had never been a problem between them. They could talk for hours, their different mindsets fueling each other’s creative energy. She missed that.
“I have one condition.” He’d returned to the couch and stood in front of her. No, towered over her, forcing her to bend her neck to look up at him.
She should have been annoyed by the power imbalance this position created, but instead, she took the moment to admire him. He was so tall, so perfectly built. She could make out the firm lines of his torso beneath the fitted cotton t-shirt. His forearm was flexed as he held his glass, and her height at sitting brought her in the direct line of sight with his crotch, the denim covering it no match for her memory. And he was still barefoot…from when he’d chased after her down the street.
Slowly lifting her gaze to meet his, she wondered what his condition would be and if she could meet it. “What is your condition?”
“I’ll tell you over dinner tomorrow night.” Joel moved to the door and opened it, signaling the end of their conversation.
Alright then, meeting adjourned.Rising on surprisingly unsteady legs, she joined him on the threshold of his door. “What if I don’t agree to…dinner?”
“You will.” The statement rolled off his lips with his signature confidence. It was infuriating when it wasn’t so damned impressive, the way this man’s sheer presence compelled you to obey him.
“I might not,” she affirmed, determined to maintain her façade of control over the situation.
With the crook of his forefinger, he raised her chin until their eyes met and held. “You will.”
And then she found herself on the other side of Joel’s closed apartment door, alone in the hallway, wondering how she’d ended up athismercy when this washerplan.
CHAPTER EIGHT
As expected, news of her fake engagement had spread faster than gossip among the Barones, and Lucy had spent the next twenty-four hours fielding more messages than she had in a very long time. Or ever.
Surprisingly, most messages were congratulatory rather than inquisitive. Everyone appeared…relieved as opposed to curious, which Lucy would have found more insulting if she wasn’t rejoicing because her relatives had chosen this opportunity to mind their own business.
Her mother had never honed that particular art, but their phone conversation last night had gone better than expected.
“Luciana, this is an answer to my prayers,” Maria Barone had cried when Lucy had called her. “I prayed for a good husband for you. A nice boy who needed a good steady girl to settle down with. I said a novena every night the week leading up to Mariana’s wedding in hopes that you would find someone there. And it happened. Not only that, but it’s Joel! Only a miracle could have made this occur. God is good,patatina.”
Lucy cringed at the term of endearment her parents had used for her since childhood. Why her sister had scored a nicknameprincipessawhile Lucy had been the “little potato” she had no idea. She figured it might have been her very potato like form before she’d grown into her curves. Or maybe a reference to the hours she’d spent with her nonna in the kitchen making potato gnocchi. But wherever the name had come from, it had stuck, and now she was forever their “little potato.” No wonder her father couldn’t envision her at the head of Barone & Sons.
“When will you marry? I think it’s best to make it a brief engagement. At your age, why wait?”
Lucy would have reminded her mother that twenty-nine was not old, if she could have gotten a word in edgewise.
“We should take advantage of the summer weather. I’ll see if I can book St. Mary’s. Usually, they book a year in advance for the summer weddings, but Fr. Alfonso owes us a favor for the time Luciano fixed the damaged pews for free, so maybe he can squeeze you in by late August.”
“Mom—”
“By next week I can get invitations made by your god-sister’s cousin’s girlfriend. What’s her name? Diana? Daisy? Anyway, she’s in the stationery business, and I’m sure she’ll be happy to do this rush order considering the circumstance. They could be in the mail by the end of next week! The Italian relatives might not all come back, since they were just here for Mari’s wedding, butpatatina, this is a gift from God. We shouldn’t waste it by worrying about the small things. It’s about the marriage in the eyes of God, not the wedding.”
“Mom, please,” Lucy insisted, trying not to be insulted by how desperate her mother must have been feeling to not mind not having every last relative present at her daughter’swedding. “I haven’t even talked to Joel about a date. Besides, he lives in Portland right now. He’s only just broken ground on the new construction here. He can’t have a rushed wedding at St. Mary’s. A wedding is at least two years off.” Hopefully, she’d need less time than that to convince her father.
There had been a loaded pause on the other end of the line. Then, “You’re right. We should have the wedding in Portland to make it easier for Joel. And if we move the wedding there, we can use the centerpieces and decorations from Mari’s wedding.”
Once her mother had finished verbally planning out the entire affair, she’d handed the phone over to Luciano.
“Patatina,” her father had exclaimed before she could even say hello. “Congratulations! Joel is a lucky man.”
Her father’s joy had guilt tugging at her heart, reminding her there was a lot at stake if this all went south.
