Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“Ow!” she said. “Ma!”
“Hush up, Talia!” her mother scolded. “When you know, you know. It’s about time Enzo settled down.” Her expression turned smug. “And I always had a feeling about them, from the time they were younger.”
“I did too, Marisol,” my mother added.
“Can I have your condo?” my brother asked.
My father cleared his throat and rose to his feet. “A toast,” he said, lifting his wine glass. “To the happy future of Bianca and Enzo, and the union of our families!”
Mr. Moretti, who had been observing the scene without commenting, also stood. He was tall, like Enzo, but doughy through the middle where Enzo was lean and muscular. It was easy to see where Enzo had gotten his looks, because his father was still a handsome man, even if his hands were less elegant and his hair not quite as thick. As he raised his glass of red wine, I felt Enzo’s arm go a little stiff—would his father see through our ruse?
“To Bianca and Enzo,” he said in his deep, gruff voice. “Per cent'anni.”
I smiled and raised my glass of Prosecco, although the thought of a hundred years with Enzo made me want to bolt for the door. Beside me, Enzo squirmed, and I knew he was thinking the same thing, but he lifted his glass as well.
Once everyone was seated again and the congratulations had quieted, Mrs. Moretti pulled out her phone. For a moment, I thought she was going to ask us if she could take our picture, but she appeared to be texting someone.
“Mom, what happened to no phones at the table?” asked Cat, Enzo’s youngest sister.
“I’ll put it away in a minute,” her mother said impatiently. “I just need to message the priest.”
Enzo nearly choked. “What?”
“I’m texting Father Mike. Just because you’re getting married at City Hall doesn’t mean he can’t bless your marriage.”
Enzo and I exchanged a frantic glance.
“That’s a wonderful idea, Marisol,” my mother agreed.
Under the table, Enzo nudged my foot.
“We don’t really want anything too, um, involved,” I said, glancing at him. “Do we, babe?”
He shook his head. “Definitely not.”
“You really don’t want a big wedding?” Pietro’s wife Lynne looked at me with surprise. “We had like three hundred people at ours. It was super fun.”
“We really don’t.” I smiled at her and tipped my head onto Enzo’s shoulder. “We just want to be married.”
“Isn’t that sweet?” My mother’s eyes misted over. “They’re so in love, they just want to be husband and wife as soon as possible.”
“Why the rush?” asked my brother JJ. “You knocked up or something?”
“John Patrick DeRossi, what is the matter with you?” My mother was outraged.
“I’m not pregnant,” I assured everyone at the table.
“But you want children, right?” Mrs. Moretti nodded at me, as if to encourage an affirmative answer.
“Yes. We do.”
Both our mothers looked so elated I thought they might rocket right out of their chairs.
“I think I’m going to cry. It’s like all my prayers are being answered in the space of ten minutes.” Mrs. Moretti fanned her face and turned her eyes to the ceiling. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Anyway, Ma, we really don’t want a priest. I’m already in touch with Judge Reinhart—we did a kitchen reno for him and his wife last year—and I’m just waiting for him to get back to me with a date.”
“James Reinhart?” Mr. Moretti nodded. “I’ll call him tomorrow. We gave him a great deal on that home renovation, and he said if I ever needed anything to give him a call.”
Enzo spoke up. “Pop, we’ve got this. You don’t need to—”
“Consider it done,” Mr. Moretti spoke with finality. “I’ll get that wedding date for you by the end of the week.”
Enzo and I looked at each other—a completely unrehearsed look of oh shit, this just got real.
I recovered first, flashing Enzo’s father a grin. “Thanks, Mr. Moretti. We’d appreciate that.”
“So Enzo, how did you propose?” asked his sister Eve.
We were prepared for this question, and I had the first line.
“It was very romantic,” I said, trying not to laugh as I recalled his drunk ass showing me the ring engraved for someone else. “He even got down on one knee.”
“Where were you?” asked Cat.
“At my condo,” I answered.
“Were you surprised?” Lynne asked.
“She was shocked.” Enzo sounded pleased with himself as he put his arm around me again. “Shocked and delighted. She couldn’t say yes fast enough. And she cried tears of joy.”
That was not in the script.
Before I could help myself, I gave him an annoyed look, which he responded to by stepping on my foot. I quickly tried to shift my face into an expression of adoration. “It was quite the surprise,” I said through my teeth.
“I’m sure it was,” Talia said, amused. “Whoever thought Enzo would be the type to get down on one knee?”