Page 46 of Tainted Princess
I let the moment drag, only breaking when my lunch was set down in front of me. The piping hot veal parmigiana looked delectable, and when I glanced at Vincent, I could see him eying my plate hungrily. I didn’t touch the food.
Yet.
“Vincent, are you Italian?”
“Yes, ma’am. My dad’s family were straight out of Naples. They moved stateside after the war.”
I smiled gently. “I’m Italian, too. I think my great-grandparents moved to New York about that same time.” I swirled a few strands of spaghetti onto my fork, watching as Vincent’s eyes followed the movement. Once I had finished the bite, I moved along. “Tell me about your grandparents.”
Vincent cleared his throat, meeting my gaze across the table. “My granddad was a cobbler; had his own shop for years. I practically grew up in that place. He was good too, but there’s not much market for a cobbler these days. He left it to my dad, but he—” His mouth slammed shut, his lips thinning as he swallowed whatever it was he was about to say.
“I take it that the shop is no longer around.”
“No, ma’am. Dad sold it.” He scoffed. “After he ran it into the ground, that is.”
“And you didn’t want to sell?”
“No. It didn’t matter how much money it was making. That place was my granddad’s legacy. It was a part of our family history; he should have done whatever he could have to keep it. Not sell it to the first guy to offer cash and then drink himself stupid with the money.”
I watched as the fire started to rise in Vincent’s eyes again. The loyalty he felt to his grandfather and the shop he built was impressive, and I was very happy to see him riled up about the loss of his family legacy.
Family and loyalty were imperative. On top of all that, this was a man who was tired of being stepped on. He wanted his life to be different, and I was prepared to help him with that.
“And?” I pushed, taking another sip. “Where is your father now, Vincent?” The last thing I needed was a fucking drunk getting in the way of what I was trying to build.
“Woodlawn cemetery, ma’am. Going on eight years now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” When I raised my eyebrows, he went on. “Man puts his hands on a woman, not much of a loss if you ask me.”
I nodded. I was liking Vincent more and more.
“Your mother?”
Finally, a smile broke across Vincent’s face. “My mother is great, ma’am. She always deserved better. She’s home now. I take care of her.”
I was about to continue when a shadow fell over the table. I looked up to see Emilio, scowling at Vincent.
“What the hell are you doing? You were told to leave, not harass my customers.” He turned to me, a fake smile on his greasy face. “Apologies. I’ll have him out of here in no time.”
“I asked Vincent to join me.”
But Emilio was not listening. He grabbed Vincent by the arm and began to tug him across the bench. Vincent out weighted him by a lot, but it seemed that it was his default to cower to those around him. But I could see it, the anger and fire buried deep within him.
I was gonna make it so Vincent never felt the need to cower to anyone ever again.
“Excuse me,” I said politely, but Emilio continued to ignore me. I tried again. “Excuse me!” When his head snapped back to me, I pasted on my society smile; the smile that felt as fake and brittle as my soul for having to pretend to be someone I wasn’t all the time.
Perhaps Vincent and I had more in common than our heritage.
“I am trying to enjoy my lunch with my new friend Vincent.” Emilio frowned, looking like had no clue why I could possibly want such a thing. “Perhaps you could just settle the bill for me?” I reached into my purse and withdrew that blasted credit card. I had had no intention of using it, but right now I needed Enzo’s name more than I needed my pride.
Handing the card over, I waited as Emilio continued to glare daggers at Vincent, anticipating the moment when he finally clued in.
I wasn’t disappointed. Reading the name on the credit card—Mrs. Enzo Argenti;Julian was a complete ass—the surprise that spread across Emilio’s face was more than worth it.
“I—um, please. Forgive me, Mrs. Argenti,” he sputtered, suddenly very interested in giving me whatever I wanted. Out the corner of my eye, I noticed the shock on Vincent’s face as well. “Of course. Please, take your time. Of course, your lunch will be on the house. I’ll just, um, leave you to it, then.” And with that, he handed me back the credit card and scuttled away like the worm he was.
