Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“Don’t worry about it. I need to spend some time alone with Nonno anyway.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t make it sound like that,” he says and palms my ass, drawing me into his body. “My grandfather wants to get me up to speed with what he wants me to do while in Italy. It will be boring, and he’ll probably start with the old stories. Go have lunch with your cousin and friend. Enjoy yourself.
“I promise when I get home, we can spend our night off together, doing anything you want. Just the two of us.”
“Um, I like the sound of that. Movie night.”
He slaps my ass, causing me to yelp. I dance back and take a stance to slap box him. I catch him quick with an open hand to his shoulder and ribs.
“Come here,” he croons, palming my head and pulling me into his chest. “My little fighter, I always knew from our first playground fight when you beat up Pauly Vitelli you could take anything on.”
I smile. “He called you a punk. He had it coming.”
“I was twice your size. I could have handled it on my own.”
“You did. You think I don’t know it was you who broke his cheek the next day?”
Dario roars with laughter. “I saw him whisper something to you by the seesaws. He was trying to provoke me.”
“We were six. What do you mean, provoke you?”
“That little shit knew what he was doing. I hated him.”
I stifle my laugh as he scowls. Dario has always been so overprotective when it comes to me. Which is why I shake off my concern about his earlier comments. I don’t want him to go, and I guess I’m looking for reasons to panic about it.
“If we’re going to make my parents’, we better hit the shower. You know how my father can get.”
“You’re right. I want to take my time with that shower.”
“Rio,” I squeal.
He tosses me over his shoulder and moves for the private locker room. I bounce on his shoulder with a smile on my lips. Having a man tall enough to not only lift me but carry me around is sort of hot.
I finally admit to myself that I’m happy and this relationship is happening. This man knows me better than anyone. This is Dario, my best friend, what could be wrong about us?
I ring the bell to my parents’ home and try my best to hold in my disappointment. Nonno called and Dario had to meet with him sooner. I thought I’d have his strength to get through this.
It’s probably better he’s not here with me. I’m not so sure I’m ready for my father to know we’re dating. My father has hinted more than once—he believes I threw away my career because of Dario.
Did I find my passion for cooking in one of Dario’s kitchens? Yes, but I’d already been unhappy. I couldn’t breathe to enjoy and love my work. My father was always pushing for me to be a step ahead of everyone else.
I had to do better than the three generations of surgeons before me. However, my father and mother, grandfather and great grandfather are all amazingly accomplished. I don’t know if there was ever room for me to do better.
“Carleen,” my mother sings in that Bajan way—that’s been passed down from her parents—as she opens the door.
“Hey, Mommy.”
She pulls me into her embrace, and I return it while absorbing her comforting presence. My mother is a surgeon, just like my dad, but she’s never been as hard on me as he has. I’ve always felt like my mother has been proud of me no matter what I do.
She releases me and looks me over with a smile on her lips. “Look at you. You’re glowing. You look good, Carleen. Happy.”
“Thanks, Mommy. I am.”
“Good. Them thighs are thick though, you better watch that. Come on in here.”
I ignore the thigh comment. She means well. In my family, you grow up and get used to comments like that. I try not to take them to heart.
She ushers me inside and I’m greeted by the sound of a full house. I’m surprised. I thought it would only be me and my parents.
As we enter the sitting room, I find three of my mother’s siblings and a few of my cousins sitting around. This should be interesting.
While my mother fell into medicine, her family has a heavy background in politics and law enforcement. With the exception of my oldest uncle, who’s a mortician and has a chain of parlors throughout Brooklyn, Harlem, New Orleans, and back in St. Kitts where my grandparents settled after growing up and marrying in Barbados.
Uncle Kington remains in St. Kitts. I know him the least of my uncles. Although, I get the feeling Uncle Kington is not the one you want to make angry.