Chapter 35

I shoot outof bed at the sounds of pots clattering in my kitchen. It takes me a second to orient myself, my gaze falling on the empty side of the bed. Last night's events rush back. Lorenzo is here, and we're moving to Italy together. I'm so happy, nothing could push me off this cloud. I'm finishing up in the bathroom when I hear a loud cackle.

"No! No, no, no," I cry, throwing on a bathrobe.

"Oh, Lorenzo, aren't you so handy in the kitchen," Barbara purrs while she sips her coffee at the kitchen table, eyeing Lorenzo's butt in his pajama bottoms. She looks up and winks when she notices me standing in the doorway. "You didn't tell me you have an Italian boyfriend, Summerita."

"I thought you weren't supposed to be home until tomorrow?"

"Lois was called into work today. She dropped me off about ten minutes ago. And what a surprise to walk in to find this Italian gladiator standing in your kitchen." She waggles her eyebrows.

‘Stop!' I mouth to her and widen my eyes, trying to convey to her I will strangle her in her sleep if she continues. She grins like a Cheshire cat.

Lorenzo turns from the stove and winks at me. "Buongiorno, tesoro. I'm sorry I didn't wake you. I wanted to surprise you with breakfast. Barbara was telling me all about the time you got your braces stuck to Chad McMillan's retainer on your first kiss."

"Seriously? That's the first story that comes to mind?" I glare at my mother before I cross the kitchen and kiss Lorenzo. She shrugs innocently as she sips her coffee.

"I am so sorry," I whisper in his ear.

"Non precoccuparti, tesoro. Tutto va bene."

I huff as I translate the Italian in my head. Don't worry, everything's fine. He hands me a cup of coffee.

"I'm making eggs, nothing fancy. Sit down and relax."

I begrudgingly sit down next to Barbara, who's grinning from ear to ear. "Oh Summerita, not only is he sexy as sin, but that accent…no wonder you were keeping him a secret! The apple doesn't fall far from this tree."

I roll my eyes and smile behind my coffee cup. Barbara may be sober and trying her hardest to be responsible, but some things never change.

She watches him with hawk-like eyes over the brim of her coffee cup. "Is he rich? He looks expensive," she whispers.

"Will you shut up?" I hiss, praying to the Italian gods he doesn't hear her.

Barbara sits back, pantomiming zipping her lips, giving me a smug smile. I wouldn't blame Lorenzo one bit if he decided not to take me to Italy with him.

"Does he have any brothers? Maybe a devastatingly handsome uncle?" she asks, breaking the code of silence. "Lorenzo, Summer tells me you're in the olive oil industry. Is that a lucrative business?"

"Barbara," I groan, scrubbing my hands down my face. I chance a peek in Lorenzo's direction. His lips twitch as he scrambles the eggs.

"Rossi Olive Oil does quite well. We're the number-one imported olive oil in the United States."

"That sounds really fancy." Barbara winks at me while I laser her in half with my eyes. "What? Lorenzo doesn't mind, do you, honey?"

"I don't mind. Your mother is charming." He smiles lazily at me.

"Anyone who thinks Barbara is charming needs to have their head examined."

"You know, Summer, I can hear you." She turns her attention back to Lorenzo. "Lorenzo, say something in Italian."

Lorenzo looks over at me, his gaze locking on mine. "Voglio passare il resto della vita con te."

"What does it mean?" she asks.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he says quietly as he lays a plate down in front of me. He sweeps a gentle kiss across my cheek.

"Such a romantic. You should marry her, Lorenzo."

"Oh my God, please stop," I grumble.

"What? What did I say wrong now?" She swats my arm playfully. "You're not getting any younger. Someone has to give you a little push."

"I want to die."

"She's always been so dramatic, Lorenzo. Ever since she was a baby and would refuse to fall asleep without her raggedy stuffed cat, she called Roy Roy. She still has it."

I close my eyes, rubbing my temples, hoping this is a bad dream. I open them back up to find Lorenzo grinning at me. He lifts an eyebrow. "Your lovie was a cat?"

"Oh, she carried that thing everywhere. Pretty sure it's missing its tail and an eye. That grubby old thing is hiding around here somewhere."

"Roy Roy is not grubby," I say huffily.

The doorbell rings, saving me from any more humiliation. I open the front door, and Cara and Damien are there with a box of bagels. "Surp—"

"Oh, thank God you're here," I cut Cara off, pulling her into the foyer. Damien looks contrite as he follows behind. He hands me the bagels.

"Sorry, Summer, I tried to stop her, but she wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm relieved you guys are here. Barbara's embarrassing the crap out of me. I think she's trying to play catchup for all the times she wasn't there to humiliate me when I was a teenager."

"I can't believe he's here. Is everything okay between you two?" Cara whispers as we head to the kitchen.

"Molto bene." I squeeze her hand. "So good."

She pulls back, stopping me before we enter. She looks into my eyes. Her lips slowly curve into a smile and she squeezes my hand back. "Molto bene, Summer."

I bring her and Damien into the kitchen and interrupt Barbara, who is asking Lorenzo about the financials of Rossi Olive Oil.

"Lorenzo, I'd like you to meet my two best friends, Damien and Cara Stevens."

Lorenzo wipes his hands on a towel and shakes their hands. "I've heard so much about you two. It's nice to finally meet you."

"Wow, it smells incredible in here. What are you making?" Cara asks, beelining for the stove.

"It's an Italian dish called Purgatory eggs," Lorenzo says.

Cara groans, lifting the lid of the saucepan and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing when Damien scowls at her.

"She never acts like that when I'm cooking," he bellyaches. Cara makes a quiet, strangled noise as she replaces the lid on the pan. "Excuse my wife. She's acting like she hasn't had a home-cooked meal in years. Anyway, it's a pleasure to meet the infamous Lorenzo. Summer has been moping around here for months." Damien shakes Lorenzo's hand.

"Yes, well, hopefully that will change from here on out." He smiles, gathering me into his arms. Cara sighs and slaps Damien's stomach. "How come you never look at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like I'm the only one in the room."

"What are you talking about, woman? I look at you all the time like that at home."

"Yeah, because I'm literally the only one in the room."

I laugh, happiness spreading through my veins, making my heart feel full. My friends sit down at the table and we laugh and share stories over Purgatory eggs and bagels. I don't even mind Barbara's embarrassing Roy Roy stories. A peaceful calm washes over me as Lorenzo wraps his arm around my shoulder and talks sports and cooking with Damien. Cara fans herself when they aren't looking, making me giggle. I didn't realize how badly I needed my family's approval.