Page 27 of Rome with Dad's Best Friend

Marco doesn’t say another word, but chuckles lightly and reaches into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He takes something out that I instantly recognize as a plane ticket, because it’s exactly the same as the way mine looks, with the same airline logo, the same…

The same flight number.

“Marco?” I say, looking up at him with tears in my eyes. I don’t want to be wrong.

“Yes, bella,” he says. “I’m coming home with you. I need to speak to your father so we can do this right.”

All of my questions are answered in that one sentence. I’m so happy I almost feel like I’m floating on air, and I don’t come back down to earth again until the plane does, and I realize this means we’re actually going to have to talk to Dad about the fact that I’ve been claimed by his best friend.Chapter Twenty-ThreeMarcoI have to admit that even I’m feeling the pressure as we pull up outside the Greene family home, the taxi ready to drop us off on the sidewalk. We deliberately didn’t tell Simon about Hannah’s flight time, so that he wouldn’t come to meet us at the airport. We agreed that it would be better on his home turf, instead of making a scene in a public place.

But I wonder if I made a mistake as we sit outside the house. In a public place, at least he would be less inclined to hit me. Here, I don’t have any such protection.

Still, I force myself to get out of the car and go to the trunk. Hannah takes one of her bags and heads to the door, but not before shooting me a conspiratorial look. It doesn’t exactly say ‘everything is going to be fine’ more like ‘no matter what happens, we are in this together’. Which in some ways is reassuring, and in others, not so much.

I hear Simon before I see him. He exclaims happily at the fact that his daughter has come home, rebuking her for not letting him know to come and get her, cheering, and taking her suitcase at the door. But I know it won’t be long until he sees that I’m here, and I try to steel myself as I grab the last two suitcases out of the trunk.

“I didn’t need a ride, Dad,” I hear Hannah say, as I come around the front of the taxi and towards the door. Behind me, I hear the engine starting as the taxi takes off. “I had someone to bring me.”

“What?” Simon looks behind her and sees me for the first time, and our eyes meet. He looks startled, even taken aback. “Marco? You didn’t need to escort her home. What, do you have business in the area or something?”

“No,” I say, thinking that it would be far too awkward to tell him right here on the street in the early morning. “Let me get these bags inside. I’m going to find a hotel later, but we’ve had a long journey.”

“Right,” Simon says, giving me an odd look. But he helps with the bags anyway, and then we’re both inside, sitting down on the couch with the bone-deep exhaustion that can only come from international travel.

“So, ah,” Simon says, coming back into the room and gesturing vaguely at me. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” I say, glancing at Hannah. “Actually, there’s something we wanted to talk to you about.”

“What is it?” Simon says. I can hear the tension in his voice now, a tightness. He knows that something is up, but he just doesn’t know what.

“I love him, Dad,” Hannah blurts out before I can say anything. “I didn’t expect it, but when we bumped into each other, it was like fate. And I just fell in love.”

I feel my heart surge in my chest. It’s the first time I’ve heard her say it. For a moment, I can’t find my voice, hearing those words overwhelms me with a feeling of lightness and joy.

“What?” Simon asks. He looks at me. “Look, Marco, if Hannah’s got herself confused…”

“No,” I say, snapping back to myself. “No, it’s not a silly crush or something like that. It’s mutual. I love your daughter, Simon. We’re together.”

Simon looks back and forth between us without speaking. He just keeps blinking his eyes and getting redder and redder in the face.

“It wasn’t planned,” I attempt because he isn’t saying a thing and it’s beginning to unnerve me. “It just happened. We spent the day together and fell hard, and over the rest of the week we only fell deeper.”

“No,” Simon says, surprising me. “No, this isn’t right. You’re telling me something that can’t be true. You wouldn’t do that, Marco. You wouldn’t take advantage of my daughter.”

“Dad!” Hannah cries out. “He didn’t take advantage of me. I wanted this. He makes me happy.”

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