Page 18 of Tangled Trust

"Why don’t the three of us go in my car, and then we’ll fetch Ella’s afterward?" I offer.

"Okay," he answers, satisfied with my organizational skills.

"Is it just me, or have you stolen my son’s affections away from me?" I say it softly to Ella as we walk to my car.

She looks a bit flustered, but I grin so she can see I’m just kidding around.

"I’m sure the novelty will wear off soon enough. I’m thinking as soon as we start doing math homework together," she winks.

"So next year, then," I laugh.

"Exactly. The hourglass is emptying out."

Ella secures Jagger’s seatbelt while I call ahead and book an outside table at our favorite pizzeria.

"You haven’t seen him covered in Mozzarella cheese yet, have you?"

"No, but I’m familiar with his peanut butter and jelly T-shirt art," she says as she gets into the car.

"Jagger is a true Picasso. I must be the Italian blood that runs in our veins."

"Interesting. I wouldn't have figured you for Italian. Not with a name like Cooper."

"My grandmother’s family is Italian."

"Ah. Parli Italiano?"

"That would be a big no, I’m afraid. Do you?"

"A little. I spent a few summers in Italy when I was a child. It was my parents’ favorite holiday destination."

"The Amalfi Coast is beautiful."

"We used to go to Naples."

"I know it isn’t Naples, but the Pizzeria we’re going to is owned by an Italian family. Their food will have you imagining that you’re right back there."

"Eccellente!" Ella grins and adds the Italian hand gesture to authenticate.

"Oh, dear," I say when we’re about three minutes away from the pizzeria and point to the back seat where Jagger is out cold.

"Takeaways?" Ella chuckles.

"It looks like it."

"Poor little guy had a very busy day," she coos.

"Let’s go home. I’ll ask my driver to fetch your car. I’m sure Chef Alex will throw something together for us."

I carry Jagger to his bed when we get home. He must be exhausted because he doesn’t stir when I kiss his sticky forehead before I leave the room.

"Would you like to join me for dinner?" I ask Ella when I pass her in the hallway.

"That would be nice. Thank you."

"It isn’t pizza from Naples, but is steak okay?"

"Perfect."

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