It just wouldn't be him.
"I can't do that to him. Subject him to a life with someone he knows will never—" I broke off on a whisper. "I need an easy, simple date. Something with no expectations, just to show myself that someone else can make me feel like Matteo does. Set me up," I begged. "That guy from the gym you were planning on before this whole Matteo mess started."
"No way in Hell! You do not need to involve another man in your mess right now," she laughed, standing from the stool and grabbing water from the fridge.
"It's exactly what I need! A distraction from unrequited love and dangerous sex machines. Pleaseeee," I whined.
She sighed, staring at me in disapproval. "All these years of having to force you on dates, and you choose now."
"Don't pretend you didn't keep Duke's feelings from me. You both kept something from me I should have known. You owe me." I wasn't beyond playing on her sympathy, because if I knew Sadie, I knew that the guilt of keeping that from me for so long had been weighing on her. It was probably part of what possessed her to stay away for so long following the revelation.
"Ughhh," she groaned. "Fine, but this makes us even. If Matteo kills him, I'll take it out on you," she said menacingly, the warning clear in every feature of her exotic face.
"Deal," I said. I couldn't contain my excitement even in the face of Sadie's threat, which I didn't take lightly. She'd beaten me up with fitness before, she knew how much I hated it. She'd get me in the ring again and kick my ass.
But the freedom of knowing I was my own woman, and I could do what I wanted, was worth it.
I hoped.
Seventeen
Ivory
It wasn't often that I got to see my uncle.
So, when he came to visit, I held that time as sacred. As his favorite, okay only, niece, it was my responsibility to him.
And so, it was tradition that riding in the car with him on the way to the restaurant, I claimed the front seat. I didn't even care that it stuck my parents in the back; they were used to it. Uncle Adam always drove, a consequence of whatever Rambo stuff he got up to when he took off to places unknown to do things most of the government didn't even have the clearance for.
My Uncle was a badass.
"Where were you this time?" He'd been a Marine, some special task force or something. I'd been only a teenager when he'd retired and opened up his own private security firm.
"Florida," he said, casting an amused look my way.
I chuckled. "Well, that's horribly ordinary."
"Oh, it was torture. Having plumbing, modern amenities, and a roof over my head to protect me from the elements. I tell you; I'll never take a job like that again." He shook his head, pursing his lips.
Sticking my tongue out at him, I muttered a quick, "Smart ass."
"Ivory! Don't call your uncle names. That's my job," Mom inserted from the back. Adam pulled up to the valet, and we all hopped out of the car. Mom and dad had never used a valet, like me, but Adam did things in style, and we'd learned long ago to just roll with it. Because when he was around, he paid.
That simple.
When the valet took his Mercedes away, we stepped up and into Angel's, the little Italian place Mom and Adam loved so much. It wasn't within Mom's price range normally, so she only got to have it when Adam came to visit.
We always came when he was in town. The name had been a bittersweet reminder in the first few years after it opened, but I'd eventually moved on over the term. The restaurant boasted some of the most authentic Italian food in the city, and that was saying something for Chicago.
Stepping in the front doors always felt like being transported to Naples, not that I'd ever been, but I could imagine.
What was different about that night from all the other nights, was the man who came striding in when my mom gave our name to the hostess.
"Angel," Matteo whispered, bending down and pressing a quick kiss to my lips as his hand cupped my elbow. I floundered, staring up at him in shock.
Because, please sweet lord tell me he hadn't just kissed me in front of my family.
Please.
A quick glance at my father's reddened face confirmed that he, in fact, had.
Well then.
Poop scoops.
"Uh, what are you doing here?" I asked, stepping back from him and hoping he'd release his grip on my elbow.
No such luck.
"I saw the reservation and thought I should reintroduce myself. It's been a long time since I saw your parents," he said with a polite, gentlemanly smile on his face.
"How did you know we had a reservation here?" I whispered. His stalking really knew no boundaries.
"It's one of my restaurants." He shrugged, because owning a restaurant was just a throwaway business detail in the great lineup of things the Bellandi family owned.
"Of course, it is," my dad snorted, echoing my sentiments.
"I don't believe we've met," Adam stepped up, holding out a hand for Matteo to shake. His face was hard, set in stone. Even though Uncle Adam had never met Matteo, I knew that he knew exactly who he was. My uncle made me his business, and there was no way he wouldn't have kept tabs on the guy who fucked me over.
"Matteo Bellandi. You must be Ivory's Uncle Adam." Matteo took his hand, and it was subtle, but there was obviously a struggle for dominance working between the two men as they stared each other down.
"I didn't realize you two were an item now," Adam said with a grimace.
"We're not—" I started, cutting off when Matteo's hand tightened on my elbow.
"It's fairly new," Matteo smiled. "But I recognize the real deal when I have it."
"You didn't the first time," my father muttered, his jaw clenched tight. My mom's eyes were wide, staring at where Adam faced down with Matteo. She seemed to know there was something different from my uncle's usual protectiveness where I was concerned, something just off about the way Adam glared at Matteo but also looked at him like he might be a formidable opponent.
No one stood up to Adam.
Ever.
So that Matteo could and still smile while he did it, well, that was insanity to my mother. I could see the gears turning in her head, wondering about all the rumors that surrounded the Bellandi family. "Honey, you didn't tell me you were seeing someone," she said finally, a tight smile curving at her lips.
"It's new, like Matteo said. Didn't think it was smart to get you all excited," I lied, because the reality was, I never intended to tell my parents I was seeing Matteo. My father snorted at my choice of words, knowing damn well excited was a euphemism for pissed off.
Was that what they called it when someone inserted himself in your life and you couldn't escape?
Dating my stalker.
My parents would have been so proud if they'd known.
"Your table is ready, Mr. Bellandi," the hostess inserted, politeness stamped on every one of her features. I wondered if Matteo had slept with her too, but there was no trace of familiarity or jealousy on her face when her eyes met mine. If he had, he'd made sure she knew the score ahead of time and could be professional in the face of his girlfriend's family.