Page 169 of Cruelest Contract
“You both should stay for dinner,” I say. “We’re having spaghetti.”
Angelo’s eyes sweep the house and his features pinch. “We should really get going,” he says, clearly not enthusiastic about ever setting foot in there again.
“Come on,” I urge. “I’ve never known you to turn down a meal.”
This tiny piece of wisdom is enough to sway him. “What the hell?” he says, casting a glance at Matthias. “We’ve gotta eat sometime.”
Matthias mulls this over. “No arguments here.”
Mel is extremely pleased to hear my brothers are staying for dinner. I think she’s glad to have something to focus on.
Dinner is rather a strange event with a motley collection of guests. Everyone left on the ranch is invited to sit around the enormous table. Even Mel joins us for a change. However, the seat at the head of the table is left conspicuously empty.
Matthias remains on edge with his laser sharp blue eyes exchanging glares with Sonny. But Tye, seated next to him, manages to lighten the mood with outrageous tales from the pro hockey world and my oldest brother finally grunts out some laughter.
It’s good to hear Matthias laugh. I assumed he’d lost the ability.
Angelo is far easier to satisfy. He stuffs his face with no shame and even less manners.
Oh well. I suppose it’s good to know that some things don’t change.
Julian keeps his arm across the back of my chair and occasionally plays with strands of my hair. At one point he catches me staring at his profile and feeling overwhelmed that he’s all mine.
He curls his arm around my shoulders and his brows lift with concern. “You’re not eating much.”
In response, I steal the bread from his plate and take a bite. “Now I am.”
Julian smiles and a million tiny connections light up in my heart. I’m convinced this man’s smile could turn night into day.
Then his dark eyes turn serious and he mouths the words, “I love you.”
I swallow my bite of stolen bread. “I love you too.”
The huge bowls of spaghetti and meatballs are gone and Mel is serving chocolate pie when she asks my brothers, “What will you Grimaldi boys do now?”
“Back to work,” Matthias says tersely, refusing to elaborate.
Angelo is slower to respond and he doesn’t even dive into his slice of pie immediately.
“Will you return to the vineyard?” I ask.
After thinking about it, he shakes his head. “Nah. There’s nothing there but ghosts. Whatever’s left ought to be sold off.”
“Then where will you go?”
He shrugs. “Think I’ll try my luck in New York. I’ll find something to do there.”
“I’ll vouch for you,” Matthias says.
Angelo’s head whips up to look at him across the table. This is no small thing that Matthias is offering.
“Yeah?” Angelo says with surprise.
The corner of Matthias’s mouth curls up. “Yeah. We are brothers after all.”
I don’t know how long it will last, the two of them teaming up or even getting along, but I prefer to think optimistically.
Julian offers the family private jet to fly them to New York. He says he can have the pilot and flight crew ready and waiting in Laramie within two hours.
