“How do you like the owner?” Dante asks.
“He pays better and takes our suggestions seriously, so I’m happy with the new changes. When Harper graduates and I don’t have Zeke full-time, I’ll probably go back to work.”
“And what do you do, Jack?” Nikki asks, keeping the conversation rolling.
I’m grateful that there hasn’t been an inquisition on Harper’s and my new relationship. Yet I know there’s still time, the night is young.
“I’m a manager for Blue Sky Resort. I handle the hotel side of things, making sure the guests are taken care of,” Jack says.
“That sounds wonderful,” Nikki says and reaches her hand across the table for Dante. “We’ve always wanted to spend a weekend at the resort, haven’t we, honey?”
Dante grumbles about skiing under his breath but forces a smile to appease my mother.
“You’d like it. We offer both ski and snowboarding lessons for beginners,” Jack suggests to Dante. “The spa is great, always makes the wife happy, and they have a pretty decent golf package with the course down the road, if you play and decide you want to come off-season, which is our summer.”
“I don’t play,” Dante says, his tone clipped.
Jack nods and takes a bite of his food.
I lean toward Harper, my breath against her ear as I try to keep our conversation solely between us. “How do you think it’s going?” I whisper.
Harper has a small spoonful of mashed potatoes that she’s feeding to Zeke.
He keeps reaching for the spoon to feed himself, but she clearly isn’t letting him. “Do you want me to feed him while you eat?”
“Would you?” Her eyes widen, and she turns him to face me but keeps him on her lap. “He’s super messy, and your parents have carpet in their dining room. I don’t want them to kill me when they see the mess he’ll make in this place.”
If Dad wasn’t mafia, I’d say she’s overreacting, but I sense her hesitation and fear. I take the spoon, giving him a few more bites of mashed potatoes as she cuts up the roasted chicken into teeny tiny bites.
“You can give him some chicken; otherwise, this little monster will fill up on potatoes.” Harper kisses the top of Zeke’s head and then stuffs a few bites of dinner into her own mouth.
Her eyes momentarily close, and I can see how hungry she is as she enjoys dinner.
That’s the one advantage to having wealthy mafia parents: they have a professional chef who knows how to cook just about anything, and it always tastes divine.
I keep feeding Zeke, moving away from the mashed potatoes and offering him chicken, which he insists on removing from my fork and putting in his hands to feed himself.
I grab my cloth napkin and set it on his lap and cover Harper to keep the mess from spilling everywhere.
“How about I feed you?” I say to Zeke and try another bite of chicken. “Open up, little tiger,” I say as I bring the fork to his lips.
Zeke’s mouth opens and then his hands clench closed. “Roar!” Zeke mimics a tiger, although it sounds like it could be a bit more of a lion.
But I’m not correcting him, and it gives me the opportunity to feed him another bite without making a huge mess.
“Don’t you miss when Luca was that age?” Mom asks, smiling across the table at Dante.
“I was never this little,” I counter, knowing it isn’t true but still not believing it when I stare at the little tiger in Harper’s arms. He’s adorable. I doubt my father was doting on me when I was Zeke’s age.
“You certainly weren’t that little for long,” Mom says. “You had a growth spurt that I swear started when you were eighteen months. You just kept growing.”
“Enough about me, please?” I’m practically begging Mom to shut up. I don’t need her embarrassing me in front of Harper. Next, she’ll be pulling out baby pictures and comparing them to Zeke.
“Fine, fine. You’re right, dear. We should be talking about the real reason we’re all here this evening, the upcoming nuptials,” Mom says.
Jack’s fork drops from his hand, hits the porcelain plate and then clammers to the floor. “Excuse me?” His voice is like thunder, completely caught off guard by my mother’s comment.
Can’t say I’m surprised, since Harper didn’t mention it to her parents.
