Her father shrugged as he deposited his lunch kit on theisland and headed to the refrigerator to fill a glass with water. “I’m only asking. So, is the car yours?”
“Hm,” was her response.
Luciano raised an eyebrow over the rim of his glass as he drank.
Maria came back from the window where she’d been peering out to see the vehicle in question. “That’s a fancy car, Luciana. I hope you didn’t ask him to buy it for you.”
“Of course I didn’t! He just, I don’t know. It was at the airport waiting for us when we arrived yesterday, and he said it was for me. I know I can’t keep it, but it was the only vehicle I had this morning.”
“You can keep it,” her parents said in unison.
Frustration rose in her abdomen. Who were these people and where were her parents? “It’s a hundred thousand dollar car that I didn’t earn in any single way. It’s way too much of a gift for no reason.”
“Your fiancé gave you a gift,patatina. It would be rude to refuse it. Besides, Joel is a very wealthy man. He can afford to shower his future wife with gifts. Let him. Win gold and?—”
“Do not finish that sentence.” Lucy refused to suppress her eye roll this time. “I swear, you two act like he shits homemade meatballs. I don’t get it.”
“Watch your tongue,” Maria said in Italian. “Do not speak about your future husband in that tone in this house or any other.”
“Are you sure you didn’t call your engagement off?” her father asked in English.
Tears blurred her eyes. She was so freaking close to shouting,“We’re already married! We have been for four years!”But she didn’t. Instead she said, “Why did you give him Barone & Sons?” She tried to keep the sound of her tears outof her voice, but she couldn’t. This heartbreak was impossible to hide.
Her father had the decency to appear ashamed. Her mother made quick work of fitting the dough into the pan and slapping on homemade sauce.
“Why can’t I be theand Son?” God, she hated how jealous she sounded, like an insolent child on the verge of a meltdown. She hated that she couldn’t accept her father’s choice.
It was a solid choice. Joel was a brilliant businessman. He could likely catapult Barone & Sons to heights she’d never even considered. There was no one she trusted in business more, and she loved how his mind worked, his ethical standard, his work ethic, his uncompromising generosity, the gravity of his leadership.
If she set her emotions aside and objectively looked at who was best suited to run her father’s business, it would be Joel. And she loathed how much she envied that, because he hadn’t poured years of blood, sweat, and tears into Barone & Sons. It wasn’t his legacy. It was hers. And she had wanted nothing more than to fill her father’s work boots since she was a child.
“Patatina,” her father hummed gently, like he used to do when she fell and had run to him in tears. “I would never want you to be a son. You and your sister are my most precious gifts.”
“Just not good enough to run the company,” she stated dryly.
“Too precious to run the company,” he corrected. “And why would you want to, anyway?” He sounded genuinely curious, like he legitimately could not fathom why she’d be interested.
“Dad, I’ve been working there since I was a teenager.”
“Yes, because you needed money and it’s a good job.”
“Yes.” God, give her patience. “And because I love it. I’m good at it. I bring a lot of new ideas to the table, ideas you’ve implemented, and that have made the business better. I’m invested.”
Her father was oddly quiet for a moment, as if letting her words sink in. Her mother said nothing, pretending to be deeply focused on assembling the pizza.
“Luciana, how many days a week did I work when you were young? Do you remember?”
“Six and a half,” she answered automatically. “Monday to Saturday, and half day on Sunday.”
Luciano nodded. “And do you ever remember me taking a sick day?”
“No, but you probably should have. You went to work with some nasty bugs.”
He ignored her. “What about vacations? Do you remember how many we had?”
She could see where this was going, and she answered in a dull staccato. “Two weeks a year. We either went camping or to Italy and you left home early to come back to work while Mom, Vanessa, and I stayed for the summer holiday.”
“Hmm,” he rumbled, nodding to himself. “Did I ever take a snow day?”
