Bianca snorts without looking up. “You try keeping me out of my kitchen,” she says. “I’ll throw you out on your pretty face.”
Gio laughs, low and helpless; Stephano answers with a squeaky sound that might be agreement.
She sets the pen down, wipes her hands on her apron, and holds them out to me. “Now, give me my baby.”
I kiss the soft crown once more and transfer him carefully into her arms. He settles like a stone, his little body going boneless against her chest.
“Hey, amore,” she murmurs, rocking without thinking, already checking his fingers, his breath, the set of his mouth. “Did Zio let you read any contracts? I told him no legal briefs before six months.”
“No briefs,” I say. “Just a performance review. He exceeded expectations.”
Gio hooks a hip on the prep table and watches them with the look of a man who can’t believe the life he gets to live. “We’ll add a line to his resume.”
I think about the fact that he almost didn’t get to live this life. He almost lost Bianca and Stephano before they knew he was even there.
The start between her and Gio was rocky because we’re Contis and we never do the easy version. Then came Adriano Russo with plans for revenge over the death of his only son, Gabe.
Somehow, Bianca ended up being the target for his revenge, though we didn’t even know her at the time that Gabe was killed.
The memory of Giovanni’s rage and fear won’t fade any time soon.
He meets my eyes like he knows where my head went. He angles closer, bumping my shoulder with his, telling me to stay in the present. I bump him back.
Stephano yawns and draws my eyes. I feel ridiculous and raw at the same time. I want to put him in a safe and swallow the key. I want to tell him he will never know a single hard thing. That’s the lie adults tell babies.
It’s something I never got to tell my own. We talked about it, Maria and I, but we wanted to enjoy a few years of married life before we tried for a kid. Then she was taken away, and so was that choice.
Now, all I have are flashes of that with Stephano and Luca’s youngest daughter, Alessandra, who’s growing way too fast for my liking.
Footsteps in the hall announce Caterina’s presence. She appears in the doorway, an annoyed look on her face.
She takes one look at Stephano in Bianca’s arms and her face softens in a way I only ever see when she looks at family. She walks straight to her cousin and presses a kiss to his forehead that he will not remember but will carry always.
“You,” she tells him, “are the only person allowed to interrupt my 9:00 a.m.”
He gurgles something that sounds like an agreement. She grins. Then she looks up and sees Bianca’s pan and grabs a spoon with the speed of a thief caught in the act.
“No stealing,” Bianca says, mock-stern, still rocking Stephano.
“Quality control,” Caterina says, tasting, eyes going half-closed for a beat. “Okay,” she declares, tapping the spoon on the pan. “That is so rude. In a good way.”
“Rude,” Gio repeats, amused.
Caterina sets the spoon down and gives the paperwork still on the prep table a pointed look. “Signatures?”
“Done,” Bianca says before I can answer. “I’m officially back. You may all stop panicking.”
“Not official until I’ve filed them,” I correct. “Then she can stop panicking.”
“I don’t panic,” Caterina says, a bit haughtily. Then she laughs at herself. “I like you here.”
“I like me here,” Bianca says, smiling.
“Okay, now. I have a few quick minutes for baby time,” she says, already on her way to the sink. “Then I have a meeting in my office.”
Caterina scrubs her hands fast, then returns with them held up like a surgeon.
“Gimme,” she says, already smiling.
