“That’s nice,” Mrs. Barsetti said. “You did such a great job last time that it must be stressful to attempt to top it.”
“I’m sure you can do it,” Mr. Barsetti said confidently.
Knowing their son made lingerie must be awkward, but they were so supportive about it. It was obvious Conway’s parents would love him no matter what he decided to commit his life to. They were the kind of parents that only existed in stories, not real life. Mr. Barsetti was obviously traditional, producing goods from the soil and selling them for profit. I didn’t know much about Italian culture, but they seemed to be shining examples of it.
“How’s the car business?” Cane asked Carter.
I didn’t know anything about Carter, other than the fact that he was Conway’s cousin.
“Never better,” Carter answered. “People always want European engineering. Can’t say I blame them.”
“You sell cars?” I asked, genuinely interested.
“Yes,” Carter answered. “But I also design them. I’m the founder and CEO of Steel Automobiles, luxury cars similar to Ferraris and Lamborghinis. They’re popular across Europe, but they’re increasing in popularity in the States. I started with one idea when I was seventeen and grew it into a company.”
“Wow…are all the Barsettis this accomplished?” I asked with a chuckle.
“Not me,” Vanessa said bluntly. “I never sign up for morning classes because I like to sleep until nine every day.”
Conway moved his hand to my thigh under the table. “My sister is the black sheep of the family…”
“Just because you sleep in doesn’t mean you’re unaccomplished,” Mr. Barsetti said. “You just do your best work at night. That’s all.”
Vanessa locked her gaze on to mine then rolled her eyes.
I stopped myself from chuckling.
The conversation continued, and they talked about the wine business mostly. Mr. Barsetti and Cane worked together to manage the company, and it seemed like Adelina helped once in a while. Mrs. Barsetti was a lot more involved.
“What do you do in your spare time?” Mrs. Barsetti asked me. “Do you have any hobbies?”
“I work in the stables every day,” I answered. “I help Marco clean the stalls, groom the horses, and take care of the feed and the hay. The barn requires a lot of work too. We’ve been having a bit of a heat wave, so we’ve been moving the horses inside so they stay cool.”
“You work out there all day?” Mrs. Barsetti asked incredulously.
Her disappointed look made me regret telling the truth. Maybe they thought I was classless for working outside all day. Maybe they thought I should help Conway more. “Uh…yeah. I’ve always like horses.”
Mrs. Barsetti turned her fierce gaze on Conway. “You let her do hard labor in hundred-degree weather?”
“I tried to talk her out of it, but she likes it,” Conway answered. “She enjoys it. And according to Marco, she’s a natural. The horses like her, and the stables have never looked better.”
“I thought something was different when I stopped by,” Mr. Barsetti said. “That’s impressive. Good for you, Sapphire.” He turned to his wife. “I thought you would admire her for that.”
“I do,” Mrs. Barsetti said. “I just wanted to make sure she liked it…” She finally tore her accusatory look away from her son.
Now I knew why Conway wanted to keep the truth of our relationship a secret. I could picture Mrs. Barsetti doing more than just giving him a dirty look. If she knew he bought me to keep me as property, I couldn’t even imagine what she might do.
“She also helps me with my work,” Conway said. “She helps me create my pieces.”
“And inspires them,” Carter jabbed with a smile.
Conway didn’t show the slightest hint of shame. “Yes. She’s my biggest inspiration.” He held Carter’s gaze without flinching.
The rest of his family kept eating, ignoring the incredibly awkward thing Conway had just said.
Vanessa was the only one to comment on it. “And off to the next subject…”
* * *
We spent the evening on the patio, drinking wine and enjoying the assorted cakes that Lars had made. White lights were hung in the trees, and the moths floated toward the brightness. The sun had been gone for hours, but the heat still filtered across the land. I could feel it through my skin and directly to my bone.
Conway rested his arm over the back of my chair, looking handsome in his t-shirt and jeans. He had a strong chest and even stronger shoulders. It was the Barsetti build, because all the other men seemed to have a similar musculature.
He looked down at me as I ate my chocolate cake. “Like it?”
“Uh, duh. This is amazing.” I kept shoveling the chocolate into my mouth, enjoying the moist cake and creamy frosting.
Conway never ate sweets. He didn’t even take cream in his coffee. “There’s nothing Lars can’t do, not even in his eighties.”
“He’s eighty?” I asked incredulously.