Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Che cos’e?” What is it, she asks, looking at him and then seeing Luca. “Bel ragazzo.” Beautiful boy. She comes to Luca, grabbing him by his face and kissing both cheeks. “Ho appena messo una lasagna nel forno.” I just put a lasagna in the oven.
“Maria,” Giovanni starts. “This is Luca figlio Aiden.”
Maria puts a hand to her mouth. “Bello, padre come un figlio,” Beautiful, she says, like father like son. She takes Aiden and kisses him on the cheeks, and he giggles.
“I like spaghetti,” he tells her, and she throws her hands up in the air.
“I’mma make you aspaghetti now,” she says to him. “With a the red sauce or the white?”
“Red sauce, please,” he says and goes to sit down at a table. Maria looks at me.
“Questa deve essera la madre.” This must be the mother. She smiles at me. “Bella scelta.” Good choice. She turns and winks at Luca. “Sit.” She points at the chair, and I go sit next to Aiden. “Giovanni, vieni a precdere il pane.” Come and get the bread, she motions to him, walking back into the kitchen.
“It smells amazing,” I say, looking down at the table with the checkered red and white tablecloth. “Do you come here often?”
“At least a couple of times a week,” he says. “Even if it’s for lunch. Noah introduced me to this place. It’s the real deal,” he says, smiling as he sits next to me and in front of Aiden.
“I didn’t know you spoke Italian,” I tell him.
“Nine years of Italian school every single Saturday morning,” he tells me, and I smile at him. Fuck, his stock just went up higher.
Chapter Eleven
Luca
“That was so good,” Eliahn says while she puts her fork down. We didn’t have a chance to order anything. Giovanni came out with some fresh bread, some freshly cut parmigiana slices, fresh salami cut perfectly, and some sopressta all brought in from Italy.
We didn’t even make a dent in the platter when Giovanni came back out with fresh spaghetti for Aiden, and some lasagna for both of us even though we didn’t order it. Next, he came out with fresh chicken cutlets and salad. “You need to tell him to stop bringing food,” she says when he brings out the plate of mussels.
“It would be insulting,” I tell her quietly. “We’ll just take the leftovers home.” But when a plate of meatballs come out, I have to take out the white flag and call it a day. “Giovanni, please, no more.”
“It’sa Maria,” he says with his hands, and then smiling at Eliahn. “It’s a good, signorina.”
“It is better than good. It’s the best food I’ve ever tasted.” Eliahn smiles at him, and I know that she has him wrapped around her finger.
“I want to come back tomorrow,” Aiden says with his mouth full of tomato sauce. “Can we come back tomorrow?”
“I think we will be warming up the leftovers tomorrow,” Eliahn says.
“How about we come here on Friday after school? You can sleep over at my house,” I ask him as he nods at me. “What do you say, Eliahn? Friday night dinner?”
She smiles, tilting her head to the side. “I would love to, but I’m having drinks with Troy.” She takes a bite of pasta.
I stop chewing, and the food suddenly turns in my stomach. “Troy?” I ask her. That’s a guy’s name, isn’t it? Like it’s not short for a girl’s name, right? Maybe it’s short for Troya or Tanya.
“He’s my co-worker,” she says to me and smiles at Giovanni when he comes to take her plate away.
“Maria is bringing dessert,” he says, and Eliahn’s eyes come to me as she tries to shake her head no.
“Luca, if I eat one more bite, I’m going to be sick,” she whispers when he leaves.
“Giovanni, can we take it to go?” I ask him. “Aiden has to get home because he has school tomorrow.” I smile at him, and he just nods at me. I turn back around. “So you’re going out on Friday?” My leg starts to bounce with nerves.
“Yeah,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “It’s been forever since I’ve been out. Time to cut loose,” she says, and I suddenly have the urge to block her from going to work. I can pay her to be a stay-at-home mom.
“Is it the whole office?” I ask her, tapping my finger on the table. “Is it an office outing or just a couple of co-workers?” My lawyer questions come out as I try not to ask the obvious questions.
“No, it’s just Troy and me; we share the same cubicle,” she says, smiling.
I force a smile on my face, but my teeth are clenched together. “That’s nice.”
“He’s so nice,” she says and is about to say something else when Giovanni comes back out with four takeout bags.