Eleanor's head pounded as she found herself waking up in the center of the bed. The curtains on the floor-to-ceiling windows were open, streaming warm sunlight directly into the room. She winced at the brightness and covered her head with the pillows in the bed.
"Buongiorno." She heard Francesco purr from the corner of the room. She looked over to see him only wearing a towel. Water dripped from his body. His curly hair hung just about his eyes, giving him a boyish look.
Eleanor covered her head in the pillows again, crunching at his looking at him that way made her feel. She couldn't deny how beautiful Francesco was, the man was cut straight out of a cologne ad.
"What time is it?" Eleanor asked.
"It's nearly noon. My sister and mother are on their way now. I wanted to let you sleep." Francesco answered, walking over to the dresser, and pulling out underwear and a tank.
Eleanor sat up, turning crimson when she realized Francesco had dropped his towel. Did this man not have any sense of shame? Eleanor wondered. Looking down, she could see why he wouldn't.
Eleanor looked away, "Okay, I'll shower and come down."
There was a ring at the doorbell and Francesco looked towards Eleanor, now wearing underwear and his tank. "Looks like they're already here, I'll be downstairs, come when you're ready."
Francesco pulled on a pair of jeans before making his way downstairs. Eleanor climbed out of the bed and quickly walked over to the bathroom. It was still humid from Francesco's shower. Eleanor climbed into the shower turned on the water and let it drench her from head to toe.
Eleanor took her time washing her thick and dark hair, making sure it was perfect. Once she climbed out, she toweled it dry and blow-dried it fully. She then took her time applying make-up before pulling on the sun dress that she had bought yesterday.
Once she was finished, she made her way down the stairs nervously. He could hear the sounds of Francesco's family in the kitchen, and it made her nerves kick in. What if this experience was awful and she would have to suffer through an afternoon pretending that she wanted to be there?
Eleanor cautiously entered the kitchen and immediately made eye contact with Francesco, blushing before making her way toward the island. Eleanor found it convenient that both Giuseppe and Francesco failed to mention his mother would be there.
Eleanor had only just convinced herself she could woo his sister, but the look that his mother gave her depleted any meager confidence Eleanor had managed to build up. Eleanor walked over to the fridge noticing that while they had only just arrived, they were already in process of preparing breakfast.
For a moment, Eleanor got a chance to see for herself the childhood Giuseppe had described. Giselle, Francesco's sister, was standing at the counters arguing with Giuseppe in fast-speaking Italian. Francesco stood silently at the island, a green drink in his hand as his eyes went from the argument to his mother who was focused on cooking.
It took a moment for Giselle to truly realize Eleanor was in the room, but when she did, she shoved Giuseppe away and skipped over to Eleanor.
"You must be Eleanor!" Eleanor was shocked that out of all of the people she had met here so far, Giselle's accent had been the weakest of them all. Giselle was a short woman with eyes that matched her brothers'. Her hair had been lighter than both Francesco's and Giuseppe's, with light artificial highlights throughout.
Her skin was perfectly tanned, making her bright smile even brighter. Giselle's smile when from ear to ear as she pulled Eleanor into a hug and squeezed her tightly. Eleanor couldn't even help but admit that Giselle even smelled expensive.
"Giuseppe has told me all about you, which is a good thing because Francesco hasn't said a word." Giselle shot daggers at Francesco who casually sat his glass down and began to obey his mother's commands.
"Oh Giselle, I just told you not to overwhelm her," Giuseppe called over.
"Giuseppe please, just focus on the mimosas," Giselle called behind herself as she wiped her hands on the hand towel before grabbing Eleanor's wrist and pulling her away.
For a moment, Eleanor was grateful because while his mother had yet to say a word, her cold demeanor was something Eleanor wanted to get away from.
At least until she remembered that she was a terrible liar. Eleanor followed Giselle complacently to the back patio. It was something Eleanor had been dying to see in the daylight since she had seen it the night before and the view certainly didn't disappoint.
The house sat above a cliff face that showed the populated city down the valley below, though Eleanor's eye couldn't make out much from so far away. The garden in the backyard looks like large steps leading up to the edge of the cliff.
In the center of the garden was a large pool that shimmered in the sun. Eleanor let out a calming sigh, thinking that she could easily get used to this view. The peace was soon interrupted by the sound of Giselle's sing-song voice.
"We are so happy to have you here, Francesco has barely even mentioned you." Giselle's words sounded kind while accusatory at the same time.
Eleanor gave her a nervous smile, "I don't think we have told much of anyone."
"Which is weird to me," Giselle said, sweeping her long flowing skirt before taking a seat on one of the stone benches. Eleanor chose to sit opposite Giselle.
Giselle was intimidating to look at, just like all the other people in this family. Eleanor felt a knot twist in her stomach as Giselle continued.
"People who fall in love cannot shut up about it," Giselle said.
"Isn't that a problem these days? We know too much about each other." Eleanor deflected, for a moment she thought that it wouldn't work but Giselle smiled again.
"You're right, my brother is incredibly reserved these days. When he was engaged previously, he was practically shouting it from the rooftops.
"Previously engaged?" Eleanor asked, and a look of horror appeared on Giselle's face.
"I am so sorry! You didn't know?" Giselle asked.
Eleanor realized she had the chance to either lie or play along with the fake hurt she was supposed to do. Not that great of a liar, she chose the latter.
"I guess it isn't something he would want me to know." Eleanor feigned dejection, but Giselle quickly jumped in, wanting badly to not be the reason why Eleanor fled back to America.
"Probably," Giselle let out a nervous laugh, "It wasn't a good engagement, she was a royal bitch who was only after his money and status. I think the best thing she has ever done was leave."
Eleanor thought it would be best to move the conversation from her and Francesco to something focused more on Giselle.
"But he has mentioned you, I wanted to know more about you, I don't have a sister," Eleanor said.
Giselle's eyes lit up, "I only have two brothers, so it is nice to hear the word sister about me, even though it is in law. Being in this family is like a blood bond, when you walk down that aisle, you'll gain an army."
"That is new for me, I only have my mom and my dad."
"And you were willing to leave them to come here?" Giselle asked.
Eleanor was sure Giselle hadn't intended to hurt but they had. Eleanor reminded herself she was here for her parents, not despite them.
"It was the hardest choice I ever made." Eleanor admitted, "Every day I keep asking myself if I chose the right decision and if I would regret this time spent here. Then I remind myself why I am here."
That was arguably the most honest thing Eleanor had said to Giselle yet.
"You're here for a reason, I think your parents would understand. They would want you to be happy."
Eleanor's parents believed that she was studying abroad on scholarship currently, and while they would be proud of her, it wouldn't be for the right reasons.
"I hope so."
"Don't be sad, I think it is incredibly romantic for you to have moved this far on a bet on love. I have made that decision multiple times. But I will tell you when it finally works out for me."
Eleanor laughed as the doors opened. Giuseppe walked over to them carrying glasses and champagne, setting it on the table between them and taking a seat next to Giselle.
"Have you figured out her blood type yet?" Giuseppe asked sarcastically.
Immediately Giselle began arguing with him, and Eleanor found that Giselle preferred to argue in her native tongue, switching perfectly to curse at her brother.
"Giselle, the least you can do is speak English. Have some respect." Eleanor was grateful for his words, but they hadn't stopped her from arguing with him.
"Why do you only choose words that will anger me?" Giselle asked.
"I am not, I just don't want you scaring off the girl."
"I am not scaring off anyone!"
"Please, you guys don't have to argue. I am not scared off." Eleanor let out a chuckle and picked up the bottle, "Why to argue when we can drink?"
Giselle was silent while she stared a Giuseppe, who was staring back, before she let out a deep breath, "I like her." The words came out as though she hadn't wanted to. Giuseppe smiled at Eleanor and gave her a wink, and Eleanor felt like for a moment she had just passed something. At least it had been the first hurdle.
It wasn't long before the food had been declared ready and by then, Eleanor was already buzzing from the three glasses she had had with Giselle and Giuseppe. They ended up laughing for most of their time outside.
Eleanor had learned that Giselle was much like Giuseppe. They both were talkative people, constantly jumping from one conversation to the next, but in a way that hadn't confused Eleanor.
She had learned that Giselle lived in Naples and that she worked as one of the most coveted wedding planners in that hemisphere of the world. Her life seemed glamorous, a life that Eleanor could have only dreamed of as a child.
She had trouble figuring out whose job was better. Giuseppe the socialite or Giselle -- the world-famous wedding planner. Eleanor wondered how she would compare to a family so successful. She worried about her parent's reaction to these people, what would they think of Eleanor marrying into a family like this?
The doubts faded with every sip of her champagne, and by the time they were all seated at the table, Eleanor found herself in better spirits. She sat next to Francesco who was sitting there with a stone-cold expression on his face. One that looked more of detachment than an annoyance. Across from him was Giuseppe who sat in the center of Giselle and their mother.
Eleanor stole a glance at their mom, Cara. Cara was an older woman, and it showed from the lines of her face and the took harsh makeup meant to conceal it all. She had large hazel eyes, eyes that hadn't matched any of her children's dark eyes.
Her hair which was naturally dark at the root was a more orange blonde, perfectly up in an ornate bun. She wore a bright red dress with red lips to match. She had a permanent frown on her face as she gave Eleanor disapproving glances now and then.
The conversation at the table had been a stark difference from the conversation that they had together outside. This one had been a lot more reserved and tense.
"Mama, are you excited to be planning another wedding?" Giselle asked, trying to change the topic at hand from the weather to something more interesting.
"I think I had enough from planning the first," Cara said, her fork moving around absent-mindedly on her plate.
The meal she had prepared had been an amazing one. Eleanor hadn't had breakfast this hearty in years, aiding her stomach in digesting the strong champagne they had drank.
"Well, luckily, I am here. Eleanor, you will have the best wedding ever, I can assure you this for as long as my brother is paying."
"Is he not paying for everything?" Cara asked, and nervous eyes glanced at each other.
"It is my wedding, no?" Francesco said it was the first time he had spoken since they had sat at the table. He was being a silent pillar.
"Is it not this girls' wedding as well? Where is her wallet?" Cara spoke of Eleanor as though she was not there.
"That girl has a name; I rather not spend your entire time here arguing with you," Francesco said and let out a sigh when Giuseppe attempted to stop him.
"Are you going to kick your mother out of the house for this?"
"I am right here," Eleanor said, but her words were overpowered by Francesco's.
"No one is kicking anyone out, I think that we should just-"Giselle's words were cut off by Francesco standing abruptly and leaving, not saying much of a word to anyone. Eleanor was not sure what happened or what to do, it had all happened so quickly and felt so... Unwarranted and unresolved.
Not truly knowing what to do, she followed him.
Francesco walked out of the dining room, something he had wanted to do from the moment he had sat down. Francesco couldn't put into words how angry his mother could make him.
She had a cruel way with words.
"She doesn't seem to have any desirable qualities." His mother said when they were finally alone. Eleanor, Giuseppe, and Giselle had made themselves comfortable outside while Henri and Louis were sent out on an errand simply to get them out of the house.
Francesco's mother had always been a hard person to be around. She grew up with her words having importance, then she married one of the most powerful men in her city.
Francesco wasn't sure if it was a life that had hardened his mother, or if she was simply born that way. He had never remembered her being endearing or loving. She preferred fear rather than tenderness.
In a way, it had affected her children greatly, but not in the way that she might have wanted. It brought the three of them together, as they never had their parents to depend on. Francesco had known from the moment that his mother had arrived his head would slowly begin to ache.
It had been more than just his mother being there, it was more so her opinions. When Francesco had previously been engaged, it was with someone who was expected and someone who she approved of. He had known his mother would never approve of Eleanor, something he had told himself would be okay because he had no intention to marry her, but his mother's words when they were alone had thoroughly ticked him off before the dinner had even started.
"I don't think you get to decide her desirable qualities," Francesco muttered, walking over to where the liquors were stored, and began making himself a drink.
"Is it not too early to drink?" His mother asked, setting the knife in her hands down and placing her hands on her hips, staring at him disapprovingly.
"If you insist on discussing my private life, then I think now is the perfect time to start."
His mother threw a dish rag at him, Francesco catching it as it fell from his face.
"You will treat your mother with respect, Francesco." Her voice was raising in the pitch that told Francesco he would be wise to watch his next words. No matter how much she annoyed him, he could never bring himself to blatantly disrespect his mother, but he was surely balancing on that line.
"Mama, I don't feel like arguing about my life choices. We argue about every decision I make."
"Then make better decisions."
Francesco clenched his jaw and paused for a moment before pouring just enough into his glass to take a shot before pouring again, "What would you prefer? The whore that has slept with half of Italy?"
His mother steeled herself and Francesco knew that the next words that would come out of her mouth would be Ludacris.
"There are assets women have that men cannot, she'd be wise to use them correctly."
Yes, the lie of her having done it as part of a grand plan of taking over the competition. No matter how many squabbles Francesco had gotten into, he had never had the thought to fuck his way out of them.
Those were words that Francesco would say aloud to his mother though, so instead he said, "Can you at least give her a chance?"
"Why?"
Francesco paused, "Why?"
"Yes, why is this girl so important to you?"
This girl.
"Do I have to sing my praises for her from the rooftop for her to be good enough?" Francesco asked sarcastically, earning himself an evil snare.
"If she is so important, you wouldn't have to resort to sarcasm to defend the marriage. If you insist on letting a vulture into our family to take everything that generations have worked hard for then so be it." His mother tsk'd her teeth before turning back to the feast she had prepared begrudgingly.
Her words unsettled Francesco, making him realize that he was not great as a liar as he had thought.
When they were all seated, Francesco had already been thoroughly irritated, and it didn't take long for him to abruptly leave the table. He hadn't known where he wanted to go, only that he wanted to leave.
Absentmindedly, Francesco walked to his office, upset to hear the sound of light footsteps behind him.
"Solo per un momento, mi lascerete in pace?" Francesco swore aloud, turning to see their stunned face of Eleanor.
Instantly, he cooled. "I am sorry, I thought you were one of my family members." Francesco let out a sigh, regretting directing his anger towards Eleanor. Francesco waived to one of the chairs in front of the desk in an attempt to thaw the tension.
Eleanor took a hesitant seat, and as women do, she began talking. "You stormed out of there and it felt like a fiancé thing to do to follow you," Eleanor explained, her words sounded as though she wasn't finished but that was when Francesco realized it was his turn to speak.
"My mother has a way of being out the worst in me." Francesco sighed. He made his way over to the side table where a decanter of liquor sat. Francesco found himself drinking more now than ever and unfortunately for his liver, it would be that way for a while.
"She seems... nice," Eleanor said which caused Francesco to chuckle.
"You don't have to lie." He said bitterly, "Ever since I was a child, she needed to have a say in any move I made." "That could just mean she cares about you." Eleanor said, "My mom is kind of the same. I mean, she is a lot nicer..." Eleanor trailed off realizing she was going to end up putting her foot in her mouth. "What I mean is, moms have a weird way of showing they love you. It may be pushing you hard in school, wanting to be a part of every decision you make, wanting to protect you from the world... even yourself."
"Your mother sounds much different than mine." Eleanor laughed and stood up, walking over to the large bay windows that showed the front yard. Francesco turned and focused on making his drink again.
"All I am saying is that while she may not show it in a doting way, she just cares about you. Would you not be alarmed if your child came home and told them they're marrying a stranger who you never so much as heard about a week prior?"
"Is that how your parents reacted?" Francesco asked, walking to join her in the window, and handing her a glass he had prepared for her. Eleanor sighed and accepted the drink. Francesco couldn't help but be amused at the face she made when she sipped the burning liquid.
While the Scotch was described as smooth, it left a deep burn that lingered in your chest.
Once she seemed to get passed it, Eleanor continued; "I feel like a major part of them felt that way, but they tried their hardest to hide it."
"Hm?"
"Well, it's my mom. She was sick for as long as I could remember. We aren't a family from wealth – but you know that." "Giuseppe may have mentioned it."
It had been one of the major reasons Giuseppe had been insisting for the past few months. While he was well aware of her financial woes, he never had the clue as to why. "Well, all the household responsibilities fell to me. I think when I told them I was engaged they were happier that she was doing something for herself.
The thought had been one Eleanor had wanted to push to the back of her mind, not wanting to feel any more pathetic than she had been.
"If they had any reservations, they would've kept them to their selves to keep me happy." The crack in her voice at the end of her sentence drew Francesco's eyes from the window to her where he could see a well of tears threatening to overflow as she stared blankly out the window.
Upon his agreeing to this ordeal, he had told himself that bringing an innocent girl into his nefarious plans would make him just as a monster as any other man. To salve that wound, Francesco eased himself by saying that the girl was just a money-hungry person anyway, so who truly would be so affected by it all?
He'd been before many women who would feign distress for a moment of his intention, but Eleanor hadn't given him those same thoughts. She was just a girl trying to help her family. The idea of having to sacrifice everything he knew to travel across the world to marry a stranger. It was that realization that caused Francesco's mood to darken, realizing that he had made the wrong assumption.
He chided himself, of course, the assumption would be wrong. He hadn't known her.
"I am sorry if you're missing your family."
"It's supposed to be normal." Eleanor explained, "But I assumed you don't miss your mother when she is gone."
"I can tolerate her yearly." Francesco shrugged and finished his drink, placing it on the desk.
"Don't take her seriously, just know we only have to tolerate them all for a short period. They'll be gone soon enough."
"Well, for the time being, can you promise not to abandon me at the table with your mom?"
Eleanor asked. "No Promises," Francesco murmured, earning a giggle from Eleanor behind him.