Page 21 of Highball and Chain

“Actually, I am your escort. Marco has a final tux fitting.” Enzo folded his arms and raised his chin as if the matter was settled.

As much as I wanted to call him out for acting like a caveman, I decided to play nice for Maggie’s sake. The last thing she needed days before her wedding was more arguing. “Great. Sounds like fun.”

My two best friends exchanged glances, but remained blessedly quiet.

Paired off in couples, we wandered through the historic section of Ragusa. The beauty of the baroque city stole my breath. Each nook and cranny presented another sculpture or ornate balcony. Like New Orleans, Ragusa hid its gardens behind stone walls and iron gates. I fell in love with the city.

Enzo and I lagged behind the others while I took pictures of every square inch of the place. The fact that my hobby allowed us some alone time was purely coincidental.

“This way.” He took my hand and led me through a narrow alley. “Shanna, you should know there is nothing between me and Nico.”

Struggling to keep up with his long-legged strides, I hurried alongside him. “It didn’t seem like you two were suited. Considering you cheated on her with me.”

He stopped and turned to face me. “I didn’t cheat on her. We weren’t dating.”

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” I straightened and turned to go.

“Shanna, wait. Please. I should have returned your calls. It’s been ages since I… I don’t date much. A week turned into two and I thought it was too late. Nicolina showed—”

“You really don’t have to explain.” But boy, did I want him to tell me what the hell had happened.

“I want to. I believe my mother is conspiring with Nico to force me into marriage.” He laughed, seemingly to hide his involuntary shudder. “They will both be sorely disappointed. I have no plans to marry anyone. I love my restaurant far too much to cheat on her with a mere woman.”

I liked this version of Enzo, the one without the stick up his incredibly firm ass. This was the guy who’d swept me off my feet at the gala. The oddly self-conscious, gorgeous man who’d laughed at himself when he’d spoken passionately about his restaurant.

“You’re saying you cheated on your restaurant with me?” I planted my hands on my hips and bit back a smile.

“I’m saying I made a mistake by letting too much time pass and I deeply regret it.”

“Apology accepted.” I told myself I’d let him off the hook for Maggie’s sake, but I knew better. I might not want a white picket fence with the guy, but I enjoyed his company. “What was all the yelling about this morning?”

“You heard that?” He pointed to another iron gate.

“I think they heard it in Rome.” Peeking inside, I pressed my hand to my chest. Behind the wrought iron, bougainvillea burst to life in shades of pinks, reds, and purples. I squatted to get a better angle.

“Careful of the thorns.” He rested his hand on my shoulder. “How much of the argument did you understand?”

“Not much, but I heard your mother call your father Mafioso. Then your father called your mother a Christ killer.”

“He’s Sicilian, thus Mafioso. She’s Roman. Romans killed Jesus.”

“Ah. I see. That makes sense, even to a Jewish girl like me.

He whistled. “Don’t let my mother know. Two things in this world she doesn’t understand, non-Catholics and vegetarians.”

“Trust me. I plan to avoid her as much as possible.” I walked farther up the stairs and emerged in another palazzo. “Was the argument about the wedding?”

“No, not about the wedding. We were arguing about the business. I offered to take my father’s position. Gabe never wanted it, nor did Leo.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets as we ascended more stairs. Nothing in the city sat level. It had more hills than San Francisco.

“I think you should, if Gabe doesn’t want it. Why force a grown man to do something he doesn’t want to do?”

“He’s the oldest. It comes with the whole Italian, Catholic, Sicilian thing.” Enzo slid his arm over my shoulder.

“That’s not only old-fashioned, it’s ridiculous.” None of this came as a surprise to me. I’d helped Maggie research the Marchionnis for an article she’d written a couple of months prior.

“It is what it is.” He tugged me closer and kissed my cheek.

I knew I should nip his flirting in the bud, but it felt as natural as the hours we’d spent on the phone. “What does Marco do? Maggie hasn’t told me much about him.”

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