Seduced by Sunday
Page 27
Mrs. Masini brought out a bottle of cabernet once all the tomatoes were cut, along with onion and fresh garlic, and handed it to Meg. “Open this.”
Meg was starting to like Mrs. Masini’s idea of cooking. “Where are the glasses?” she asked once the bottle was uncorked.
Mrs. Masini rolled her eyes, took the bottle from Meg’s hand, and poured a splash into the sauce they’d mixed from raw ingredients and put into a pot.
“Oh.” Meg glanced at the label with disappointment. “This isn’t your son-in-law’s wine.”
“He’s not my son-in-law!”
“Yet.”
Mrs. Masini grunted.
“I take it you don’t approve of your daughter’s choice.”
She hesitated. “The man won’t look at me, doesn’t meet my eyes.”
“You think he’s hiding something?”
Mrs. Masini didn’t agree or disagree. “What man presumes to fall madly in love, then leaves his intended for weeks at a time? He has yet to introduce Gabi to his family. Who are his people?”
Meg thought of her own family. “Not all families define their children.”
“True, but marriage is more than simply two people coming together. How can I approve his family if I’ve not met them? I don’t trust him.”
The venom in the woman’s words rang inside Meg’s head. It was her turn to watch in silence as Mrs. Masini moved about the kitchen. She found a cupboard and removed two glasses. She poured wine for the both of them and took a big sip. “Know the man you marry, Margaret. Know his family.”
“Marriage isn’t in my plans.”
“Why is that?”
Meg had been giving that some thought since she went to work for Alliance. “I find myself smiling and happiest when I’m beside an artistic type.”
“Like Jim?”
Meg nodded. “Albeit a few decades younger,” she said with a laugh. “But guys like Jim don’t stick around and can’t manage rent, let alone a power bill.”
Mrs. Masini weighed her words, sipped her wine. “Then you find someone with more stability.”
Meg knew a lot of suits. She’d been hooking them up for a couple of years. They might be stable, but the inability to laugh and enjoy life was a serious killjoy. “I decided some time ago that I didn’t want to settle for half the package . . . I also learned that the perfect man doesn’t exist, and Lord knows I’m nowhere near perfect.”
“None of us are, dear.”
“It would be easier if my expectations weren’t so high. My parents are happy being dirt-poor together. If either of them wanted something different, one of them would be miserable.” She’d rather be single and happy than married and miserable.
“So you’re looking for the stable artistic man.”
“I’m not looking for anyone.”
“What about your friends with benefits?” Mrs. Masini delivered a snarky grin, one that told Meg that there had been a time when Mrs. Masini was in her twenties.
“Friends for fun aren’t the same as friends forever.”
Something told Meg that she would hear Mrs. Masini’s grunt well into the future. “Every woman marries eventually.”
Meg opened her mouth to deny the claim only to have Mrs. Masini talk over her. “Eventually you’ll want children.”
“I’m a—”
“When you hold your baby for the first time. All the pain in your life disappears. You’ll sacrifice many things for your children, your family. It’s hard to watch them make the wrong decisions.”
“Like marrying the wrong person.”
Mrs. Masini tilted her wineglass in Meg’s direction. “Like marrying the wrong person.”
“What worries you the most about Mr. Picano? Do you think he’ll be cruel?” They’d switched to the subject of Gabi in a nanosecond and Mrs. Masini didn’t miss a beat.
“I’ve seen very little emotion from the man. How can an Italian man have so little emotion?” Mrs. Masini was waving her hand in the air now, her voice up at least an octave. “Mr. Masini, rest his soul, lived life with passion. He loved with his whole heart. He would want nothing less for his baby girl. A man who can’t voice his anger bottles it up inside until it bursts. Then I fear for my daughter.”
“Some men don’t get all that excited about life’s stresses.”
Mrs. Masini shook her head. “Alonzo Picano holds it in. I see it in his eyes.”
Wow, she really didn’t like this guy.
“Maybe you just don’t know him very well.”
She growled. “Now you sound like my son. I know him well enough. He’s not good enough for Gabriella. He will be back on island tomorrow. You’ll see what I see if you look.”
Mrs. Masini moved from her perch and stirred the marinara sauce before replacing the lid and turning the temperature down.
“I thought Gabi said he wasn’t coming back for a week.”
“He changed his mind. Like a woman. A man of business doesn’t have the luxury of changing his mind.”
Meg couldn’t argue with that. “Something came up?”
Mrs. Masini groaned.
Michael reached the peak of the cliff before Ryder. They’d started the day off with wakeboarding and then decided on a hike and picnic lunch on the northern point of the small island. Seemed most of Sapore di Amore’s guests enjoyed the pool or the beach, because they hadn’t passed one person since they set out.
Meg was starting to like Mrs. Masini’s idea of cooking. “Where are the glasses?” she asked once the bottle was uncorked.
Mrs. Masini rolled her eyes, took the bottle from Meg’s hand, and poured a splash into the sauce they’d mixed from raw ingredients and put into a pot.
“Oh.” Meg glanced at the label with disappointment. “This isn’t your son-in-law’s wine.”
“He’s not my son-in-law!”
“Yet.”
Mrs. Masini grunted.
“I take it you don’t approve of your daughter’s choice.”
She hesitated. “The man won’t look at me, doesn’t meet my eyes.”
“You think he’s hiding something?”
Mrs. Masini didn’t agree or disagree. “What man presumes to fall madly in love, then leaves his intended for weeks at a time? He has yet to introduce Gabi to his family. Who are his people?”
Meg thought of her own family. “Not all families define their children.”
“True, but marriage is more than simply two people coming together. How can I approve his family if I’ve not met them? I don’t trust him.”
The venom in the woman’s words rang inside Meg’s head. It was her turn to watch in silence as Mrs. Masini moved about the kitchen. She found a cupboard and removed two glasses. She poured wine for the both of them and took a big sip. “Know the man you marry, Margaret. Know his family.”
“Marriage isn’t in my plans.”
“Why is that?”
Meg had been giving that some thought since she went to work for Alliance. “I find myself smiling and happiest when I’m beside an artistic type.”
“Like Jim?”
Meg nodded. “Albeit a few decades younger,” she said with a laugh. “But guys like Jim don’t stick around and can’t manage rent, let alone a power bill.”
Mrs. Masini weighed her words, sipped her wine. “Then you find someone with more stability.”
Meg knew a lot of suits. She’d been hooking them up for a couple of years. They might be stable, but the inability to laugh and enjoy life was a serious killjoy. “I decided some time ago that I didn’t want to settle for half the package . . . I also learned that the perfect man doesn’t exist, and Lord knows I’m nowhere near perfect.”
“None of us are, dear.”
“It would be easier if my expectations weren’t so high. My parents are happy being dirt-poor together. If either of them wanted something different, one of them would be miserable.” She’d rather be single and happy than married and miserable.
“So you’re looking for the stable artistic man.”
“I’m not looking for anyone.”
“What about your friends with benefits?” Mrs. Masini delivered a snarky grin, one that told Meg that there had been a time when Mrs. Masini was in her twenties.
“Friends for fun aren’t the same as friends forever.”
Something told Meg that she would hear Mrs. Masini’s grunt well into the future. “Every woman marries eventually.”
Meg opened her mouth to deny the claim only to have Mrs. Masini talk over her. “Eventually you’ll want children.”
“I’m a—”
“When you hold your baby for the first time. All the pain in your life disappears. You’ll sacrifice many things for your children, your family. It’s hard to watch them make the wrong decisions.”
“Like marrying the wrong person.”
Mrs. Masini tilted her wineglass in Meg’s direction. “Like marrying the wrong person.”
“What worries you the most about Mr. Picano? Do you think he’ll be cruel?” They’d switched to the subject of Gabi in a nanosecond and Mrs. Masini didn’t miss a beat.
“I’ve seen very little emotion from the man. How can an Italian man have so little emotion?” Mrs. Masini was waving her hand in the air now, her voice up at least an octave. “Mr. Masini, rest his soul, lived life with passion. He loved with his whole heart. He would want nothing less for his baby girl. A man who can’t voice his anger bottles it up inside until it bursts. Then I fear for my daughter.”
“Some men don’t get all that excited about life’s stresses.”
Mrs. Masini shook her head. “Alonzo Picano holds it in. I see it in his eyes.”
Wow, she really didn’t like this guy.
“Maybe you just don’t know him very well.”
She growled. “Now you sound like my son. I know him well enough. He’s not good enough for Gabriella. He will be back on island tomorrow. You’ll see what I see if you look.”
Mrs. Masini moved from her perch and stirred the marinara sauce before replacing the lid and turning the temperature down.
“I thought Gabi said he wasn’t coming back for a week.”
“He changed his mind. Like a woman. A man of business doesn’t have the luxury of changing his mind.”
Meg couldn’t argue with that. “Something came up?”
Mrs. Masini groaned.
Michael reached the peak of the cliff before Ryder. They’d started the day off with wakeboarding and then decided on a hike and picnic lunch on the northern point of the small island. Seemed most of Sapore di Amore’s guests enjoyed the pool or the beach, because they hadn’t passed one person since they set out.
