I shake my head at them. “We’ve got dinner tonight. You guys let me know if Rosa’s in town, will you?”
“Will do,” Santo says.
A thrill of excitement rushes through me at the knowledge that I get to see Elise again, that she’s dolling herself up just for me. And then I know.
Santo’s right. We did have to go show off and get married. We’re the only ones in our family that actually made it work. Or in my case, seem to have anyway.
I feel like we’ve got a ways to go before we get there.
Bright beams of sun break through the stained glass window in the hall, casting a rainbow of color on the carpet before me. I feel whimsical, as if I’m walking down an enchanted hallway toward my bride.
“Oh, mamma mia.”
She sits on a window seat at the end of the hall. Each landing has something special and unique to mark it—a little table with framed prints, an octagonal stained glass window, a small table with vibrant flowering plants. This floor houses a window seat with a tufted pillow.
“Mamma mia yourself.” I tease her, but I feel my face break out into a smile. “Why mamma mia?”
She stands and pretends to fan herself. “You’re turning me on,” she whispers. “You’re just… you look amazing.”
I reach her and slide my hand along her lower back. I bend my mouth to her ear and nibble. “Thought that was my line.”
“We can share it.”
I lace my fingers through hers and inhale her provocative scent. I’m getting turned on just touching her, just smelling her.
“Where are we going?”
At this point, she’s been to several of our restaurants in the North End. Now, I’d like to take her someplace she’s never been before.
“It’s a surprise, piccola.”
When we arrive, our driver brings us to the main entrance. My bodyguards and hers discreetly walk behind us, dressed like normal civilians but armed to the teeth. “Do people know who they are?” she asks quietly. I shake my head.
“Do they know who you are?” She laughs to herself. “Actually, scratch that. I know the answer.”
The doors open for us as if they open by themselves, uniformed servers escorting us to our table. I pull a chair out for her, and she drapes herself in it with an elegance befitting a queen. My heart swells. She doesn’t know I’ve brought a surprise for her tonight.
I think I might love this woman. We have so much life to live together yet, but since the Rossi family’s on speed, breaking through modern conventions, forcing us together in an arranged marriage may have been the easiest way to bring us together even quicker.
“My God, this is amazing,” she says of the grilled olives and chorizo skewers. She eagerly tastes every bite of the sampler platter I order at the tapas restaurant. I wanted to bring her here, to sample the small plates in a leisurely way since this is our makeshift honeymoon.
I finish everything she doesn’t eat.
“You guys are hysterical the way you inhale food, for real.”
“It’s not funny at all,” I say, giving her a pointed look. “We take it very, very seriously.”
“Oh, I know.” She looks pleased with herself.
“You hiding something?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“Elise,” I say, warningly. She only smirks at me, the little brat. “If you’re holding something back from me…”
The waiter comes to our table to take our order. I order for both of us. She sits back in her seat, her hands folded gently on her lap, and watches with shining eyes. I order mini chicken croquettes, empanadas, and spring rolls. This place boasts an unparalleled multicultural menu.
“God, that sounds incredible.” The wine flows as if our glasses are enchanted, as the waiter brings plate after plate of small plates.
“Orlando,” she says with a gentle smile. “I want to know so many more things about you.”
I swallow a bite of food and nod. “Go ahead. I’ll answer anything you ask.”
Her face registers surprise before she controls her features. “Anything?”
“Of course. You’re my wife. Why would I hide anything from you?”
I watch as she picks at her salad plate, her little fork swirling through parsley and thinly diced pear. When she bites her lip, I know she’s nervous. I reach my hand to hers and rest it on top.
“Hey. Look at me.”
My heart somersaults when her eyes meet mine.
“Don’t be nervous. It’s me. We’ve got a long way to go, but babe, you’re doing amazing.”
She nods. “Thank you. I’m just…I’m wondering something that I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“Go for it.”
She lowers her voice. Whether she wants to make sure no one overhears her, or she’s afraid that she’ll show too much emotion, I’m not entirely sure. I give her another reassuring squeeze.
“My family…doesn’t believe in fidelity. Marriage is only a convenience.” She blinks, and there’s challenge in her eyes when she looks at me. “I want to know the truth. Will you have a mistress?”