Page 52 of Vengeful Vows
I’m delighted when we arrive at Bluewater Bistro, one of the city’s premiere addresses that features an extensive wine list and only the freshest seafood. Though I haven’t been before, I know of its reputation.
Myrna, the owner herself, greets us warmly before showing us to a table for three toward the rear of the restaurant.
A bottle of champagne is already chilling in a bucket.
When a waiter offers to help me into my chair, Marcello waves him off and instead performs the courtesy himself before taking the seat across from me.
Once Marcello has approved the offering, the bottle is uncorked and the man fills my glass.
When we are alone, I ask Marse if we are expecting someone to join us.
“A surprise.”
“You know I hate those.” I have to admit, however, that so far I have loved everything he’s had in store for me. “Can I guess? I’m meeting another member of your family?”
He shakes his head. “You’ll see.”
Either his tone is clipped, or I’m noticing things that aren’t there.
Once my flute is half empty, the tension of the day has started to drain away.
A basket filled with warm, freshly made bread and whipped butter arrives, and Marcello encourages me to have a slice.
Since I skipped lunch, the bubbly seems to have gone to my head, so I indulge in a few bites of the yeasty temptation.
Anything more than that and I’m afraid I won’t fit into my wedding dress.
We talk for a few minutes, catching up on our day. “I finalized my bouquet today, along with a smaller one for Amelia.”
“The bill arrived, and the payment has been scheduled.”
“It also includes the boutonnieres for Matteo and your uncle.” Who I am meeting this weekend. “Oh, and the flowers for the chapel that will be donated after the ceremony.” Per his request. “I think that’s everything.” Marcello has told me that his uncle has been somewhat of a father to him since his own passed. Though we’ve only ordered flowers for the bridal party, he wants to extend that honor to his uncle also, and I adore that about my future spouse.
When he says family matters, he backs his words with action.
A few minutes later, he stands. “Our guest has arrived.”
My mouth drops open when I see my brother.
Right now, I love Marse more than ever. I’ve met both Matteo and Lorenzo, and I appreciate that Marcello cares about my only remaining family as well as his own.
It means all the more because I haven’t yet told Alessandro about my upcoming wedding. It hasn’t been something I wanted to mention over the phone, and time has been zipping past me.
As he nears the table, Alessandro pauses for a moment, his gaze swinging wildly from Marcello to me.
Then he gives me a hug that seems to last forever. Odd. He’s never behaved this way before.
Marcello is still standing, and he extends his hand.
“What the fuck are you playing at?” Rudely my brother ignores Marcello’s gesture.
“Please join us,” Marse invites, indicating the chair between us.
Seemingly unconcerned when Alessandro doesn’t respond, Marse resumes his own seat. “We wanted to share the happy news with you in person,” he says as he splashes bubbly into the third glass.
“Happy news?” Alessandro looks at me, and his face pales when he spies the oversize diamond ring that is winking on my finger.
“She agreed?” Pale, he sinks into his chair.