Page 46 of Roman

“For?”

“You will be coming to my nonna’s for lunch on Sunday. Well, my place, but Nonna lives there and basically runs it.” I paused. “She wants to meet you.”

“Why?”

I took a sip of wine, bracing myself. “Nonna has been worried about me. She thinks I need to settle down. Aldo got smart this afternoon and told her I was seeing someone.”

“Who?”

“You.”

She blinked. “Was he drunk?”

I threw back my head in laughter. “No, Little Tiger. I can’t explain his reasoning, but she now thinks we are dating. And since I know she will like you and you are here, you are now going to come to lunch and let her think we are, in fact, together.”

“And how exactly will that work?”

I shrugged. “We will hold hands, smile at each other, throw out a few stories about our relationship, and make her happy.”

Effie stared at me. “She’ll never believe that.”

“She will if we play our parts.”

“And if I say no?”

I didn’t want to force her. I didn’t want to use her misguided gratitude, but I did.

“You owe me, Little Tiger. I’m collecting. Your life and freedom for a few hours spent with an old lady who wants me to be happy. It will only be on a couple of occasions. Not much to ask, really.”

She blanched, and I knew I had won.

“When you put it like that, how can I refuse?” she murmured.

“You can’t. Pick one of the dresses and wear it. I would especially like to see you in the one with the blue flowers. It will bring out your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

“They, like the rest of you, are beautiful.”

She almost snorted. “Fine.” She went to stand, a grimace crossing her face.

I stood. “Did the massage not help today?”

“I didn’t like it. I asked them to stop.”

Something inside me flexed. A burn began in my gut. “Why? Was someone inappropriate with you? Give me their name. Now.”

She frowned. “I was in pain, Roman. I couldn’t get comfortable on the table, and when they tried, it hurt too much. I asked them to stop the massage, and they got some special ointment and used it instead. Then they told me to have a warm bath, which would help it. I was just getting out when you, ah, burst in.”

“I heard a noise. I was afraid you were ill.”

She met my eyes. “You didn’t leave when you saw I was fine.”

“Forgive me.”

“Are you truly sorry, or is that lip service?”

Her snappy comeback made me smile. It showed, under the pain and fear, she had a backbone. I had seen it when I went to the diner the first day, and I was worried it had been lost.