“I think I will call it an early night,” Marlena decides, getting up.
My father rushes to help her, guiding her toward the staircase before coming back to join us in the dining room. I half expect him to continue probing Sofia for information, but he doesn’t.
“Why don’t you kids take off?” he suggests.
“Do you want help with the dishes?” Sofia asks.
My father laughs. “This is a good woman,” he tells me. Then he turns to her to answer her question. “Gio and I can take care of it. Go, be young.”
“Thanks,” I say, taking the opportunity provided.
I don’t think Dad and Uncle Gio are actually going to do the dishes, but they may clean the table. The meal went surprisingly well, and I’m thrilled at the prospect of getting Sofia all to myself.
“Do you want to see the upstairs?” I ask her.
She slides back from the table, standing up. “Sure.”
I lead her out of the dining room and for the first time since meeting my parents, we find ourselves alone. I’m dying of curiosity, but I keep my mouth shut until we mount the stairs. The walls have ears here in the Corello compound, and I don’t want my dad to think we’re talking about him.
But as soon as we reach the second-floor landing, I have to ask. “So, what did you think?”
“Of your parents?” she asks innocently.
“Of my dad,” I clarify. “I don’t really think of Marlena as my parent.”
“No,” Sofia agrees. “She’s far too young.”
“So,” I insist. “What did you think?”
“He’s very friendly,” she answers.
I pause to consider that statement. Of all the things people have called my father over the years, friendly is not one of them.But of course, Sofia is different. She’s not a rival mob boss or a politician looking for a handout. She’s my girlfriend.
“What’s up here?” She asks, looking around at all the gilded decorations on the second floor.
“Bedrooms,” I say, trying not to sound seductive. I don’t know whether she is interested in spending the night. That option appeals to me, but I don’t want to pressure her. Though we’ve slept together, we haven’t had sex. And this house might be too intimidating to be the first place we become intimate, though I don’t want to rule anything out.
“Which one is yours?” she asks with no hint of shame.
I break into a smile, hoping that she means what I think she means. I guide her down the hall, away from my father’s room. There was a time when I lived across the hall from him, but no longer. I’m uncomfortable being so close to Marlena and my father because they’re not often quiet when they’re alone.
I moved to the opposite end of the house, at the end of a long corridor. I open the door to my suite, standing aside to let Sofia pass. She enters my sitting room, gazing at all the furniture at once.
“Oh, my God,” she whispers. “This place is bigger than my apartment.”
“I know,” I respond, following her inside.
“You don’t have a kitchen in here, do you?” she wonders.
“No kitchen,” I report. “But I have a bathroom, and a bedroom through here.” I point to the door at the far end of the room.
She turns around to face me, putting her hands on my shirt collar. “It’s a lot to take in.”
“I know,” I agree. “But you did a fantastic job with my father and my uncle. I think they really like you.”
“Your stepmother is sweet,” Sofia observes.
“She definitely likes you,” I respond.
