Page 37 of Mafioso's Muse

The osso buco was delicious. Willow savoured the tender meat and rich sauce. The caponata was equally as tasty, as was the pasta alla Norma. And the prawns.

After the seafood, Willow leaned close to Vaughn and whispered, ‘I’m starting to get the food sweats.’

‘You did say you were starving,’ he whispered back.

‘I hope you’re ready to roll me out the front door.’

When he met her gaze, she realised how close their faces were. She jumped when Antonio’s phone rang.

Vaughn rested his arm on the back of her chair. ‘You okay?’

Nodding, she avoided eye contact. The presence of his hand behind her was driving her temperature up even higher.

Antonio glanced at his phone, his eyebrows coming together before excusing himself. He left the room, and Willow found it strange that no one asked who it was or if everything was all right, but then she remembered who she was dining with. There was a distinct lack of curiosity or concern.

‘Have some wine,’ Salvatore said, picking up the bottle.

‘Oh, no thanks,’ Willow replied.

‘You don’t drinkwine?’ The question was loaded with accusation.

Vaughn spoke up on her behalf. ‘Sleeping Beautystarts in a few weeks.’

‘Dancers need to keep their brains sharp,’ Paula said. ‘Right, Willow?’

She nodded. ‘And weight down.’

Paula set her cutlery on her plate and studied Willow across the table. ‘Vaughn tells me your family’s in Sydney. Will they be flying down for your first solo?’

‘My mum and brother wanted to fly down, but unfortunately they have to work.’ She felt the weight of Salvatore’s stare on her.

‘And your father?’ he asked.

And there it was. ‘I’m not in contact with him. He left after my brother was born. Haven’t seen him since.’

Salvatore’s mouth flattened into a disapproving line. ‘What do you mean, heleft?’

‘He wasn’t suited to family life.’ That was the polite way of saying he was too selfish to see it through.

Salvatore proceeded to say a whole lot of things in Italian, prompting Paula to pat his hand in a calming manner.

‘Pa,’ Vaughn said, shaking his head.

His father fell silent.

‘How old’s your brother?’ Paula asked, moving the conversation along.

‘Twenty. He’ll finish his electrical apprenticeship next year.’

‘Good for him,’ Paula said in her proud mum voice.

Salvatore swallowed his mouthful of food. ‘Then he can take care of his mother.’

Willow reached for her glass of water. ‘Mum’s fairly self-sufficient. She works in a daycare centre.’

Salvatore went to say something, then changed his mind.

After a few more questions about where she grew up, Vaughn placed his napkin on the table and stood. ‘Willow wanted to see the garden.’