“Ohh!” Grandpa said. “Even east of Italy?”
Layla nodded, but only after she had thrown me a wink while my grandfather was effusing about what it would mean to get such wines into Eastern Europe. I told myself I could have handled it, but that was only true up to a point.
“Yep, I’m just doing my part to help build Ferrari Wines. Unlike these boys.”
“Hey!” both Brett and I said at the same time.
“Just saying,” Layla said with a smirk.
“That actually raises a good point,” Uncle Nick said. “Nick, what are your plans for the Ferrari Wine business?”
Though there may have been a hint of questioning and maybe of guilt contained in that, truthfully, I was just happy to talk about anything other than why I was considering dating, let alone marrying, a single mother.
“Just to keep on being a visible presence for the company through my face.”
“Well, we’re going bankrupt,” Brett quipped.
“And I do think next offseason—it’s too late with this season coming up, but next offseason for sure—I want to get more involved and learn the ins and outs. I can only do baseball for so much longer.”
“Jeez, you sound so old,” Layla said with a sarcastic eye roll.
“Old enough that you all should be married by now!” Grandpa said.
And now all three of us were rolling our eyes when we had our heads turned enough.
“You know what the will says. You better be married—”
“They know, Dad,” my father said.
I didn’t worry so much about the will. I had more than enough money to care for me and all my siblings. But certain siblings obviously had greater need for that money than I did.
But as discussion raged about the future of the business and how long my father and uncles would oversee it, I just felt glad I could recede into the background. I hadn’t changed my mind about Izzy just because of some words from my grandparents. If anything, I felt more inclined to pursue her.
I just told myself I needed to be careful. It was only date one and I was getting swept up like mad. Her being a single mother wasn’t a concern for me, but there was always the possibility of someone or something lurking in the shadows, making life hell for me—and by extension, my family.
But for right now?
Shit, I was as happy and excited for the future as I had been since the day I got drafted into the big leagues.
Chapter 8: Izzy
One Week Later
It was time for the second date, and once again, I had put on a sexy dress—this time a pearly white one—some black heels, a black necklace, and just a touch less makeup than before, but still plenty enough to make me look good.
My phone buzzed. I took a brief second from applying the last of my blush to look down. Nick—who else?—had texted me.
“I’ll be in the booth in the back corner. Can’t wait to see you!”
I smiled, but I still couldn’t say that I felt a hundred percent on-board with it. Part of it was just me and my refusal to completely let go of the notion that this could somehow come back to bite me in the ass; life had given me a lot of good things, but life had also royally fucked me over in others. Part of it was Nick’s behavior—he was sweet, but it was all just a bit much.
Maybe if things got a little more seductive and a little hotter, it would be much easier. I’d chosen not to kiss him a week ago, so I was ready to admit it could have been me, but I also needed to see more of the unbridled, shameless Nick. I was getting charmer Nick Ferrari, and that was fun, but it wasn’t sustainable. I needed something more.
And also…
Well, let’s just say looking up the “Ferrari” name had returned more than a few questionable results, and I didn’t mean unfounded rumors about steroids or sign-stealing in baseball.
But if that was something that had crossed my mind, it definitely wasn’t something I was going to say out loud on the second date. If I wasn’t going to spill everything about Malcolm up to this point, I couldn’t justifiably expect Nick to do the same here.
“Can’t wait to see you either :-)” I wrote back to him. The more aroused part of me wanted to put the kiss emoji, or at least some emojis with hearts, but common sense thankfully won that battle.
I put on the last of my blush and looked at myself in the mirror.
“You’ve got to take some chances, Izzy,” I said. “Let yourself experience this.”
Easier said than done. But not impossible to do.
With that, I headed to my car. This time, I decided in advance I was going to do valet parking.
* * *
Of course, as soon as I got to the destination—a quiet cocktail lounge, very simply named Downtown Cocktail Lounge—I realized that the place was too small to provide valet service. Fortunately, by this point, the excitement had overcome the anxiety, and I felt more amused detachment than I did annoyance or rising anxiousness. It also helped that there was plenty of street parking available.
It almost seemed too good to be true, in fact, that I pulled up to an open spot right behind a fancy blue Tesla—a Tesla which Nick emerged out of as he saw me approaching. He leaned against the car, looking every bit the part of a GQ model posing for his cover spread, and tucked his hands into his jeans as he waited for me to get out.
