Page 3 of Innocent Union
“But it would look so nice with your hair.” She reaches out and tries fluffing my hair, but it lands limply on my shoulders. She frowns. “Well, we do the best we can. Wait in the living room. The first suitor will be arriving soon.”
And he does.
Within minutes, a man is walking into the living room with my mom at his side. “Mia, this is George Johnson.”
I almost want to laugh at his name but hold back. It’s clear he isn’t even Italian, which goes against the grain. Within the Mafia, most people marry within their own background just … because. Mom and Antonio must have really scraped the bottom of the barrel to find these guys.
George is skinny with shockingly light blond hair. He shakes my hand a little too roughly. “Hello, Mia.” He takes a seat across from me. “I’m honored to be invited today to the home of Giulia Moretti.”
Mom smiles as she takes her place next to me. “You flatter me, George. I’m glad you agreed to meet Mia.”
“Of course.” He scans me head to toe. I try to stop myself from squirming. George is …ok in the looks department. But I guess I’m just ok, too. Maybe this is what I need—a man more on my level. I’ll probably never get a supermodel-looking husband like my sisters.
“So, George,” I say, “What made you agree to meet me?”
“I wanted to meet the last eligible daughter of the Moretti family. Of course, there’s also Lucia, but she’s just a child. Not exactly ready for marriage.” He chuckles awkwardly, which is made even more awkward when neither my mom or me laughs. “Not yet, anyway,” he adds. “One day.”
Mom clears her throat. “We’re here to talk about Mia, not Lucia.”
“Right, right.” George crosses his legs, and I notice he’s not wearing any socks. Weird. “Well, it’s just Mia is well past the age to be married.”
“I’m twenty,” I say flatly.
“Right, right,” he says again. “It’s just … you know … the scandal that happened last year. I’m not sure I want to be associated with that.”
“But you agreed to be here,” Mom says, confusion coloring her tone.
“Yes, I did.” George looks me over again before turning to my mom. “You don’t have anyone prettier?”
It’s a complete slap in the face.
Mom glances at me with pity. At this moment, I hate her for it. “I think you need to leave now,” she says, standing up and motioning for him to go.
George gets up, frowning. “Did I say something wrong?”
I can’t even tell this douchebag off. I’m on the verge of crying, which annoys me even more, knowing a guy like George Johnson is the reason I’m crying. And then I cry even harder.
Mom walks George out and returns to sit beside me. “Mia?” She reaches for my hand, but I pull away.
“George is the best you can do for me?” I whisper, not trusting myself to speak any louder.
She sighs deeply. “He was one of the only men who agreed to meet with you.”
I blink back my tears. “Well, is there anyone else?”
“There is. He’ll be coming over soon. Why don’t you collect yourself?” She hands me a tissue. “Your nose gets all red when you cry, and your eyes get puffy. You need to put your best foot forward with these men.”
“George was a freaking pedophile,” I mutter, dabbing at my eyes. “Did you hear how he spoke about Lucia?”
Mom grimaces. “That was unfortunate, but I wasn’t aware. I would never marry Lucia to someone like that when she’s older.”
“I can’t believe this. My eleven-year-old sister has more marriage prospects than I do.”
“We’ll just wait to meet the next suitor. Hopefully, he’ll be better.”
Spoiler alert: He isn’t.
The next suitor is a man named Austin Henderson, another non-Italian. The Italian Mafia men are making it clear they don’t approve of Cecilia’s actions, and I’m paying the price for it.
