Emilia (Part 1)(12)

Lettie made no secret of the fact she didn’t like Alessandro, and he didn’t hide that the feelings were mutual. When I pried into what happened between them, she shrugged it off and called him a brat. I liked him, though. He was funny and honest, both things in short supply in my life.

“Does Pietro still want to have more kids?”

She forced out an exaggerated shiver punctuated with a snicker. “I’m not that stupid. I don’t want anything tying me to him for life, so I’ve taken precautions to ensure it’s impossible.”

Tony tapped me on the shoulder. “It’s time to go, Miss Trassato. Your lesson starts in ten minutes.”

I sighed, and Lettie smirked.

“You better get going, Em.” She winked. “I know how much you want to be a concert pianist when you grow up.”

Like so many things in my life, I wasn’t entirely sure playing piano was my dream and not my dad’s. I couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t dictated my choices, and for too many years I willingly went along for the ride.

He had some delusion that he could mold me into a new and improved version of my mom, the great Ava Accorso. She was a notable Italian-born concert pianist. Prior to meeting my dad, she had performed all over the world as a soloist, recitalist, and chamber musician. She even won numerous international competitions.

In fact, that’s how they met. She was performing at some private party where my dad was a guest. Smitten with her, he waited outside until she left and offered her a ride home. Despite the protests of her family, they dated for two short months before they were married, and I came around nine months later. The rest is history.

“You know me so well, Lettie,” I retorted, my voice chock full of sarcasm.

She snorted. “That I do. Have fun banging on the piano. Hopefully it will help you work out your bad mood. Oh, and let me know if anything happens with you know who.”

I glared at her, telling her with the invisible flames shooting out of my eyes to shut the fuck up. “You’ll be the first to know if my dad agrees to let me be part of the Christmas performance,” I shot back, seamlessly blurting out a lie to cover her statement.

I gathered my cappuccino and followed Tony out the door. I didn’t have a clue why Lettie was so up my ass about Sal. I wished she’d shut the hell up. Her loose lips were a potent reminder of all the reasons why I needed to quit confiding in her. While we were friends of sorts, Lettie liked to joke about the things I told her. She swore it kept the crappy parts of our lives bearable. I didn’t always agree, particularly when it could easily upend my plans. I couldn’t afford to take that chance or I’d find myself married off to Marcello.





CHAPTER EIGHT





After my piano lesson, I climbed into the passenger seat of Tony’s black sedan, digging around in my purse for my phone.

“Tony,” I said without looking up, “my dad won’t be home for dinner so I want to swing by that deli on 54th on the way home to grab something to eat. I’m starving.”

“I’m not Tony. Sorry to disappoint.” Sal turned to face me from the driver’s seat, a huge grin splitting the lower half of his face.

I lunged for the door handle, desperate to get out of the car. The thirty-minute drive in his company would be like a life sentence. The instant my hand closed around the handle, he pulled away from the curb and into the steady stream of traffic.

“Pull over and let me out.”

“No can do.”

I sunk my fingers into the oyster-colored leather seats. “Where is Tony?”

“Your Uncle Angelo needed him to do some stuff this afternoon.”

“What about Gian?”

“He’s busy too.”

“Lucky me,” I responded, my voice utterly and hopelessly flat.

“So what’s this place on 54th?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll find something to eat when I get home.”

He frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

“In that case, do you mind running a quick errand with me?”

Do I mind?

Of course, I minded. I preferred to spend as little time as possible in his company. Being around him made me uncomfortable in my skin. He was a shameful reminder that I actually asked, no begged, him to kiss me on my birthday. Then, like the dumb little girl wholly lacking in experience with men, I concocted some freakin’ fairytale with him in a starring role as Prince Charming.

Ugh.

“I’m kind of tired so I’d appreciate it if you dropped me off first.”

“Come on, Emilia.” He sighed wearily. “It won’t take long. You don’t even have to get out of the car. In fact, it’d be better if you didn’t.”