Page 236

“I know. I wouldn’t want my Italian son to marry an Australian who can’t cook, either.”

Her mouth falls open in surprise. “You can’t even cook?” The look of sheer horror on her face makes me smile.

“Nope. Not really.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, and I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing out loud.

“Dear God, Olivia, you will be the very death of me.” She huffs.

“It’s not all bad. I’m willing to learn. I’m learning your language and doing all I can…” I search for the right words. “I’ll do anything to make Enrico happy. I’m trying really hard, but you need to try too. This isn’t ideal, I know that, but we have to make it work between us… for him.”

Her eyes hold mine. “You’re going to be late for work.”

She’s dismissing me. “Oh.” I drag myself off the chair and go to the sink to wash my cup. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome.”

“See you later, then.” I sigh sadly. She stays silent.

I turn and slowly walk toward the door. “Olivia,” she calls.

I turn back to her.

“Food is the Italian language of love. You will be cooking well for Enrico. My son deserves the best.”

I frown. What’s that supposed to mean?

“Your first cooking lesson is on Sunday with Enrico’s grandmother.”

Hope blooms in my chest and I smile softly.

“She does not mince her words. Prepare yourself.” She lifts her chin defiantly, her eyes are hard, but I see a glimmer of softness behind them. Something tells me Grandma is going to be a hard cookie to crack, though.

“Thank you, I’ll look forward to it.” I turn and walk out of the kitchen feeling very proud of myself. I feel like jumping and punching the air.

I think I actually did okay.

________

It’s 4:45 p.m. when my phone rings and I see Rici’s name on the screen.

“Well, hello there,” I answer playfully.

“Hello, Olivia.” His commanding voice echoes down the line.

I smile broadly. I missed him last night and I can’t wait to see him. “And to what do I owe this pleasure, Mr. Ferrara?” He never calls me this close to home time.

“I’m picking you up today. Catch the elevator straight down to the basement parking lot. I’m parked just outside the elevator.”

“How come?” I frown.

“Just do it.”

“All right.” I sigh. “Still in your bad mood, I see.”

“Olivia,” he warns. “Do not give me your attitude today. You are right, I am not in the mood.”

I smile. I love stirring him up. I think back to not so long ago when that tone in his voice would have had me running scared. How times have changed.