Tangled In Strings

Chapter Twelve

"Looks delicious, Laurie."

"Thank you."

"Even though it's not salmon."

"I don't even care for salmon, Mother," Giovanni says between clenched teeth, and she makes a face of disbelief. "You want it. Why don't you just say that?"

Valentina eyes me cautiously. Laurie fades into the background.

It seems the fighting will roll into dinner. Giovanni's mother doesn't respond to his growl. Instead, she grabs onto the bottle of wine I gifted her when we arrived.

"I thought we'd try out Scarlett's wine with dinner."

"Can I have some?" Valentina asks exuberantly.

"Absolutely not," Giovanni responds at the same time his mother grants her permission.

Giovanni smiles softly. "Mom."

"Oh, let her have some. She's old enough."

"Old enough for it to be illegal."

His mother reaches out, grabbing Valentina's hand. "Sorry, honey. It seems your brother has put his foot down."

Her sarcasm rings through clear as day. She waits while Fred uncorks the wine bottle and then holds up her glass. I wonder briefly if it's good that she's drinking with anti-depressants. When Giovanni whispers to Fred, low enough for her to not hear, that she's cut off, I have my confirmation.

Even though I don't like wine, I hold out my glass, needing the liquid courage to make it through the dinner. All of a sudden, his mom releases a ghastly sound. We all find her grimacing.

"I think this has turned."

My heart sinks. Turned? With a panic expression, I watch Giovanni lift the glass to his face, inhaling before he braves a sip. After a second, he glowers her way.

"It's fine."

"No, I swear, this tastes different. Maybe it's a knock-off?"

I have to hold my tongue. I'm almost glad when Giovanni doesn't.

"Knock. It. Off."

She begins a conversation with Laurie, asking what he's included in the meal, and Giovanni leans back in his seat. I rest my hand on his thigh, gently rubbing. He responds by grabbing it, so tight my fingers stiffen. He realizes, and his grip slackens, his fingers lacing between my own.

He lifts them, pressing his mouth to the skin. I watch his eyes meet my own apologetically and offer him a small smile, wanting to calm him. "I'm sorry," he whispers, so only I hear. "I'm seconds away from taking you out of here."

"No, I want to stay. Really." She needs to warm up to me.

"What are you two whispering about over there?"

"Work," Giovanni replies immediately, exhaling. His mom, holding her heavy wine glass with both hands, directs her attention to me, and I'm livid enough to hold her gaze.

"Scarlett, you work with Norman White, right? I met him once at a party years and years ago. I think he was on his third marriage then."

I smile, chuckling. "He's always searching for the right one. Actually, I'm not working there anymore. I'm contemplating opening my own firm... here in L.A."

Giovanni smiles softly to himself, looking down.

Her brows lift. "Here?"

"Yes. Giovanni and I are moving in together, so I'm going to be living here from now on."