“There’s a reason I didn’t buy you any fucking ties,” I say when he worries, with a strange insecurity, that Tino Morelli might be offended at him not wearing a tie. “Have you ever seen Tino Morelli wear a tie?”
“He wears cravats,” Luca points out sullenly.
“Yes, but that’s because he’s like, a hundred. You’re young, hot, and you look like a fucking store manager when you wear a tie.”
It took some bargaining, including the promise of the world’s best blow job that night, but Luca finally agreed, and went down without a tie.
“Should I set the table?” he calls.
I laugh, until I realize he’s serious. “No, baby; it’s all organized,” I call back from the living room.
“But nothing’s set up,” he says anxiously. I follow his voice to the kitchen, where he’s staring around wildly, and take his hand.
“We’re in the formal dining room tonight,” I tell him gently.
Luca frowned at me. “But the kitchen is much nicer. That dining room is so dark and…the kitchen is friendly. Homey.”
Something squeezes my heart to hear him say that. “We don’t want homey tonight, babe. We want formal.”
“We do?”
“We do,” I confirm, leading him across the foyer and into the formal dining area. It’s already been dressed with damask and fine china.
“The table’s not very big.”
“It’s an intimate setting,” I agree.
“Are you sure you’ll be able to bring the food over from the kitchen okay? Shouldn’t we just eat in there?”
It takes everything in me not to sigh or roll my eyes at him. This husband of mine has a lot to learn. “We can’t entertain Tino Morelli at the kitchen table, baby. We need to show him respect first. We can show him familiarity at his next visit.”
“But are you sure—”
“Luca,” I say, taking his hand. “Trust me on this one. And sit down with me now, so I can show you what silverware to use with each course.”
He hesitates, but then nods. “And tell me what I should say about the wines?”
“And tell you what you should say about the wines.”
Tino and Connie arrive right on time, and Luca jumps at the sound of the doorbell. “He’s here! I’ll get the door. Do we go straight to the dining room or—”
“Bring him in here.” We’ve been waiting in the living room, standing by the fireplace. “Drinks in here first, small talk, a few honeymoon photos. Then dinner.”
One day, I think to myself as Luca goes off to answer the door, and please God, let it be soon, we will have staff who can open the door for us, cook for us, do our laundry and take care of those pesky, petty, everyday needs.
They are the kinds of things Luca doesn’t even consider, the things he does by rote, because he’s never lived a real life of luxury.
But I have lived that kind of life. And I intend to again. When I’m done with him, Luciano D’Amato will rule this City.
I hear Luca open the door and greet our guests. Their conversation floats through and I smile to myself when Tino says, in genuine surprise, “Luciano! You look wonderful!”
When Luca brings them into the sitting room, I’m standing to attention, ready to greet them in my own Armani suit. Hey, Luca’s not the only one who likes a bit of Giorgio.
My mouth is immediately full of Connie’s black, curly hair, as she flings herself into my arms, and kisses my cheeks three times. I know Luca thinks she’s just another of Tino’s flings and as stupid as the rest apparently have been—to hear Luca tell it, anyway. But I can see that Connie is a player, and I know she’s aiming for the big league. I have to respect that. And if she ends up where she wants to, Luca will have to respect her as well.
Luca takes Tino’s coat for him and I take Connie’s and we go together to put them in the coat closet under the staircase. While there, I give Luca a quick kiss on the cheek, just to make him smile. There. He looks less like a brooding bad boy when he smiles, and more like a pleasant dinner partner.
When we go back into the living room, where Connie is exclaiming about how beautiful everything is, Tino opens his arms for me to step into them. He hugs me close, kissing me three times, and then takes my hands. “Finch, is it?”
I nod. “That’s what they call me.”
“It is good to see you looking so well, eh? No more of these terrible drugs. No, you look after yourself now, for the sake of your husband. And Luca is treating you well?”
Luckily for Luca, I can honestly say that he is right now. “He’s everything I could ever want in a man,” I say. It’s the plain truth. Tino can see that, I think, because he just about tears up, and pulls me in for another hug, holding me close so I can smell the cigar smoke caught in his hair.
“We are so happy to have you in our Famiglia,” he says, pulling back, but holding me by the biceps. “I have much respect for your father, and I knew your mother when she was a girl. We grew up in the same neighborhood, if you believe it. She was a very pretty young girl, such beautiful hair. She had her pick of the men, and she chose well with your father.”
“Thank you,” I say to Tino, because I don’t know what else to say. I knew Mom grew up in New York. It’s one reason I love this city. But I’m not sure why Morelli has brought it up. I give Luca a significant look when Tino and Connie turn away to sit on the couch to remind him.
I want to know the
