“Because I’m interested.” He gestures at me with his wineglass. “Go on.”
“Um, my sister Margot and I have always been pretty close…?”
Eli smiles encouragingly.
“…We’re, um, different though. She got expelled from school when she was sixteen and I was so jealous because I couldn’t imagine ever doing something that bad.”
“And what did she do?”
I’m still telling the story of Margot and the field hockey captain when the first course arrives. A charred leek soup dotted with garnet pomegranate oil and stracciatella. I try to eat and talk without spilling the delicate soup on myself.
“…so, Margot bribed the science teacher not to tell anyone what she was doing and she had to keep buying him weed until she graduated,” I finish.
Eli laughs. “Margot sounds like my sister. A born troublemaker.”
“A little bit,” I say defensively. “But she’s very sweet.”
“Well, she is your sister. So, who’s next? What about your bridesmaids? What are they like?”
“Are you sure you—”
“I won’t reassure you again,” Eli says sharply. “I’m asking because I want to know.”
And so, I tell him about Giuseppina, Darcy, and Quinn. I keep to the most interesting details, like how Darcy’s dad is a music producer and Giuseppina once catfished an NYPD detective. As I’m talking, the host returns with plates of swordfish, sprinkled with saffron and mandarin segments.
Eli refills my wine, and urges me to keep talking. By the time I’m done telling him about my cousins, the host has served handmade garganelli with roasted pancetta and aged parmigiano.
“I feel bad,” I say to Eli. “I’ve been talking so much, I don’t think I’ve been appreciating the food.”
He smiles. “Then why don’t I tell you about my family for this course?”
“Sure,” I say a little nervous. The only thing I know about Eli’s family is that his mom and dad had an ugly separation. But Eli doesn’t talk about divorce. Instead he tells me about his childhood running wild in Naples, about his Nonno and Zias and Zios and cousins. I’m free to listen and laugh and enjoy my meal and by the time dessert comes, Georgia peaches soaked in dark rum, I’m tipsy on wine and because Eli and I are actually having fun.
As I lick chocolate semifreddo from my spoon, I think of Doc and Bobby and Adriano. As much as I’m enjoying myself, I want everyone to be here, laughing and telling jokes the way we did when I made brodo. Will we ever all go on a date? Or is that too weird, even for Velvet House?
“Miss Whitehall?”
I look up to see Eli refilling my wine. “Yes?”
“You interest me.”
I laugh, but Eli doesn’t elaborate. Doesn’t even smile. “And as you’re the most interesting woman I’ve ever met, I’d like to reiterate my desire to bring you into my household and keep you for myself and my brothers.”
I feel a flush creep across my cheeks. “Like a mistress for all of you?”
Eli’s gaze goes cold. “Like a wife to all of us.”
The suggestion, so naked, almost sucks the air from my lungs. For a moment I can almost picture it—the five of us around one table, travelling in one car, sharing Christmases and retiring to the same bedroom to…
But the idea of what might come next snaps me to reality. I try to smile at Eli. “I, um, thought being a Whitehall wasn’t impressive enough for your family? Aren’t I like… beneath you?”
“I’ve changed my mind,” Eli says like it’s set in stone.
“But why?”
“I don’t need to know why. When I discovered you had been taken from the hospital, I knew. You’re a magnificent woman and there is no one for me but you now. And I know the others feel the same way.”
I look but there’s no trace of humor in his eyes. His expression is intense and so lovely, I have to turn away. “Maybe that’s just… fear talking?”
