Page 104 of 7+Us Makes Nine

“Nice to see you too, Ma.”

“Thanks, darling.”

* * *

By the time evening set in, I felt like the male Cinderella with all the cleaning I’d done. I was pretty sure the Marino family weren’t going to inspect the entire house, but my mother had been adamant that every corner of it be perfect and dust-free. I suppose the only consolation was that dinner was being catered in, so I at least didn’t have to help her cook anything, which I was incredibly grateful for, considering I’d been forced to endure her lectures all morning about what would be expected of me as a decent husband.

At about five o’clock, my mother began setting the table. “You go get changed,” she said to me, affectionately slapping the side of my face.

Once I was changed and groomed, I wore a pair of black slacks, a blazer with a crisp white shirt underneath, and tied my hair back into a smooth, bun. I shaved and dabbled on just the right amount of cologne. And then I stared at my reflection for a long time.

“Well—looks like your days of bachelorhood may soon be over, Gio,” I said to my reflection and sighed. And then I ventured back downstairs, the superficial part of me hoping that the Marino girl was at least attractive. That would make this whole ordeal a little easier. Otherwise—it may very well be the first time I resented my loyalty to my own family.

When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I heard my father’s voice. He’d been in the middle of saying something to my mother when he noticed me approaching.

His eyes widened as he took in my appearance. “You sure can clean up nicely when you want to. Too bad your hair is still too long though.”

Mom approached me and smoothed the collar of my shirt. “Don’t listen to your father, dear. You look very handsome. Young Miss Marino is going to be a lucky girl.”

“Let’s just hope that I’m just as lucky,” I said.

Dad chuckled. “Oh, you are. I think you’ll be happy with this arrangement.”

I pursed my lips, not entirely sure if I trusted my father’s statement. He just wanted to secure our family ties with the Marino fortune; whether I and the Marino girl were actually compatible was something I doubted he cared much about.

“So, where are my dear brothers?” I asked, leaning against the dining room wall and folding my arms.

“They’re not coming,” Dad answered.

“What?”

I said, unfolding my arms. “Why not?”

“Because she only needs to meet you for now. She doesn’t need to be overwhelmed with the whole family. You and your brothers are too much for strangers to take in all at once.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We just don’t want to overwhelm her, that’s all,” Mom interjected.

I raised an eyebrow. “Or you don’t want me to have competition with my brothers? Afraid that she’ll like them better?”

Mom slapped my arm. “Nonsense.”

“I think I hear a car door slamming,” Dad said, heading to the front of the house. He stopped abruptly and looked back, fixing me with his sternest gaze. I’d seen that gaze plenty of times before in my life. It was the gaze that could freeze boiling water. It was the stare that indicated playtime was over. “Gio, I cannot put into words how important this dinner is. This needs to go well. Understand?”

I nodded, not daring to make a smart retort. “Yes, Dad,” I said, feeling as if I was twelve years old again.

With a curt nod, he turned back around and disappeared from view right as the doorbell rang.

Standing at the dining room table, I gripped the chair before me, my heart pounding.

“It’s going to be fine, Gio,” my mother said, rubbing my shoulder as voices drifted through the house from the foyer. Our guests had arrived. It was time to meet my future wife.

Suddenly, at the most inopportune time, images of Ari popped into my head. I clenched my jaw, willing away the memory of her.

“Gio, sweetie,” Mom said, her voice a hasty whisper. “Come on, now. Get it together.”

It was at that moment that I knew I must have looked just as panic-stricken as I felt. “Sorry,” I said. “It’s just…How do you respond to the fact that your future is literally walking through the door? What if she’s…What if I just don’t like her?”

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