He leaned his long frame against the doorjamb. “I believe a person makes their own luck.”
“I believe that, too,” she said as he turned back to the lock. She added in a quiet voice, “But I also believe in tradition.”
“Fine,” he said, pulling the key out of the lock, this time with a very heavy sigh.
They congregated a minute later at the teal front door, a lovely color, but needing a good coat of paint. Leo turned the key, but before he could open the door, she tapped him on the shoulder.
“What is it now?” He was past trying to disguise his irritation.
She closed her eyes and swallowed. She wasn’t going to hold back on who she was. “It’s bad luck unless you carry me in. It’s ancient tradition,” she said. “Carrying the bride over the threshold keeps her away from the evil spirits on the floor.”
“And so the groom has to walk through them? Nice. And what if I trip and fall? That’s definitely bad luck.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t make the rules.”
Something glinted in his eyes. “I thought that custom began because most people back then married by capture, so the bride was dragged or carried in.”
“That’s really disturbing,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m not sure what ‘marry by capture’ is, but maybe I’ll just walk in after all.”
“I wouldn’t want any bad luck to infect our business ventures.” He bent to scoop her up but hesitated at the last second.
“What is it?” A horrible thought crossed her mind. “Oh no. Let’s just forget it.” This was so embarrassing. He was sizing her up, probably worrying about breaking his back in the process of picking her up.
Mortification crept into her cheeks, and she turned away. But he caught her arm. “What is it? What just happened?”
“Just forget this. Like you said, it’s just…you don’t have to carry me after all.”
“Forget what? What did I miss?”
She sighed. “I get it that I’m not exactly a tiny size.” Svana’s size popped into her head. Which was crazy because she’d never even seen Svana. And why should she care, anyway?
He laughed. Not again. Why did he always do that?
Her anguish turned to outrage as she crossed her arms. “Are you laughing at me?”
He said very gently, “Tessa, I’m not laughing at you. I just—I just don’t get how someone as stunning as you wouldn’t be happy with having some curves.”
Before she could say anything, he’d scooped her up—but not in the traditional newlywed way. Instead, he hiked her over his shoulder.
Which was appropriate, considering this upside-down day. This upside-down marriage.
She gave a little yelp as he whisked her through the door, closing it behind them with his foot, and stood for a moment in the dark room, lit only by the stars and the distant streetlight. Her hair fell out and hung down in an unruly curtain, making her part it with her hands to see anything.
When he deposited her upright in the middle of the living room, amid all their various boxes, couches, lamps, and wall art, she was dizzy.
And maybe not just from being whisked through the door, caveman-style.
He smiled, dusting off his hands.
“That was very untraditional,” she said, a little out of breath.
“And yet I carried you over the threshold.”
“Yes, you did. I suppose we’re going to do this marriage our own way.”
Before she could react, he flicked on their only light—a bare overhead bulb—illuminating the waist-high pileup of boxes around them. There were her purple velvet couch, her multicolored patchwork ottoman, and her teal chair. In stark contrast to her boho hippie furniture sat Leo’s leather couch and clean-lined, expensive glass-topped tables, looking very clean and mid-century modern. And—very out of character—the most giant oak desk she’d ever seen, complete with a hutch full of drawers. It was already tucked into a little nook under a window overlooking the backyard.
“That thing is huge.” Yet the space seemed made just for it.
“It was my grandfather’s.” Leo grabbed the matching chair, brought it over to the desk, and sat down. “It’s got some really cool features.”
He ran his hand lovingly over the beat-up wooden surface. “It needs some TLC, but I’m going to work on it. Watch this.” He tapped a small drawer in the center of the hutch, causing it to spring open.
Tessa laughed. “That’s amazing.”
“That’s not even the best part.” Leo opened the drawer and pointed inside. In the back was another hidden drawer.
“Exactly what did your grandfather do that he needed secret drawers?” Tessa asked.
“When he first started out, he had a pizza shop, and he used a sauce recipe his family brought with them from Italy. Except until the day he died, he wouldn’t give it to anyone.”
“No one?”
“Not a soul.”
“So did he hide it in the drawer?”
A long, slow grin spread over his face. “That’s the best part. He left a letter for my dad with the recipe, telling him to use it as he wanted. That it was a symbol of our family’s creativity and adaptability. That food feeds people but it also helps us make a living. And he left some photos of him and my grandma.” He reached into the drawer and pulled them out. “She was the love of his life.”
Tessa examined the old photos of a young couple, laughing, with their arms around each other, clearly very much in love.
“Together they started the restaurant. One of my dad’s dreams is to make pizza again.” He looked a little dreamy, like maybe that was part of his dream too. “Someday, maybe.”
A pang hit her as she wondered if great loves could happen to people like her. “That’s a wonderful story. These are sweet.”
She handed the photos back, and he replaced them carefully in the secret drawer. “In her later years, my grandma got Alzheimer’s, but Gramps visited her every day.”
One thing was clear: Family was important to Leo Castorini. Regardless of his ability to make a quick sham marriage. “Funny how our families are both so family oriented, yet they let the feud go on for so many generations.”
“I’ve tried to understand that for years. It’s beyond me.” He sat leaning his elbow on the desk and looking at her, amusement suddenly lighting up his eyes. “By the way, you looked pretty today. So learn to take a compliment, okay?”