*Olivia*
“We’ve got the sausage and cheese for the crostinis, right?” I asked, glancing up from the list on my phone.
“Check and check!” Dahlia called out, rumbling through the paper bags from our most recent grocery trip. Maria had insisted on going with us to shop, but even she couldn’t stop and Dahlia from throwing whatever we could into the cart.
Maria had only shaken her head in defeat at the dismayed look on the checkout girl’s face as she faced our mountains of food that could probably feed an entire army of starving soldiers, including the war horses.
Luckily Tino and Dom had been such good sports about lugging all of it inside.
“All the veggies?” I asked with a frown.
“Uh–” Dahlia glanced at the floor of our kitchen, filled with dozens of bags of groceries. “Probably sowhere, right?”
“Dolly!” I complained, putting my hands on my hips. “We need to make sure we have the carrots for the pomodoro, the potatoes for the gnocchi, the romano for the genovese, and the tomatoes and onions for practically all the dishes!”
“Ugh, fine,” she snapped, rolling her eyes as she grabbed the nearest bag and dug through it. “I think this is the at. Did we order atloaf or sothing?”
“That would be the ground pork for the porchetta,” I remarked, checking it off the list and moving on.
“It looks kinda funny, doesn’t it?” She made a weird look, staring at the wiggly bag of at. “What kind of pork is it?”
“The intestines,” I said casually.
Dahlia scread, dropping the bag of at and backing away. “Gross. Gross. Gross! What the fuck is wrong with you? Why couldn’t we just order pizza and call it a day?”
“Really, Dahlia? Pizza?” I glared at her.
“It’s the food of the gods,” she said proudly. “And if you tell any different, you can pry it from my cold dead hands, Olive. Besides, everybody likes pizza.”
“I’m not serving pizza.” I rolled my eyes. “I have the entire nu planned out and Maria will help . Right, Maria?”
I turned to her with a bright smile, but she only stared at the kitchen floor completely covered in ingredients that added up to more than her whole paycheck.
“Ay.” Maria sighed, looking exhausted. “No pagan lo suficiente.”
“See?” I turned back to Dahlia smugly.
“Whatever.” Dahlia dug through the bags as Tino and Dom ca back inside carrying four bags each, the last of them.
“This is the last of it,” Tino panted, gently placing the bags on the only clear spots left on the table. Dom gave a silent grunt as he didn’t even bother stepping into the kitchen and dumped his right on the front.
There was an unmistakable clinking of a bottle hitting the ground, and Dahlia’s head whipped up so fast I heard her neck crack. She dashed over, looking much like she was playing hopscotch as she moved through the kitchen and dove into the bag Dom had just left.
“Here you are my beauty!” Dahlia pulled out a bottle of Chianti red wine, looking like she had found an oasis after crossing a desert for a month straight.
I sighed, knowing she was a lost cause now. A few of the maids stepped forward to help unpack and put away all the groceries and as Dahlia began drinking straight from the bottle. Hopping up to sit on the kitchen counter, I continued to move down my checklist until it was done.
“That’s everything.” I sighed in relief, finally taking a breath as the last of the groceries were put away. I smiled at Celine and Nilda, two of the kitchen maids whom I had grown rather close to over the past few months. “Grazie, ladies.”
“Prego, Signora,” The two smiled happily, moving on with their next chores.
“Now that that’s over, co have a drink with .” Dahlia waved the bottle in the air, a mischievous grin on her lips. I grinned, finally relaxing after knowing we hadn’t missed anything.
“Did Tallon say when he’ll be back?” I asked as Maria handed a wine glass as she passed through, giving Dahlia a rather annoyed look as she took a swig straight from the bottle and took a mont to chase her off the counter.
“Grazie, Maria,” I told her with a smile as I poured myself a small amount. The red wine was still chilled and was just what I needed as I sat down at the island with Dahlia taking the seat to my right, this ti in a chair that was ant to be sat on.
“He’ll be arriving early morning.” Dahlia shrugged. “And I told them they both had to be on their best behavior or I’d make sure they won’t be able to walk for a week. So, they should be good. No promises that they won’t be their usual asshole selves, though.”
“I already expected that.” I laughed. “You keep them in line and I’ll keep Gio and my dad in line.”
“Deal,” Dahlia grinned, downing her glass.
I took my ti a bit. Elio was taking a nap, and the baby monitor app on my phone hadn’t alerted to any activity in his room yet, so I had a few more monts to myself. I realized now, without any more planning to do, that I felt a little lost.
Anxiety was creeping up my spine like an old friend and I couldn’t seem to shake it off. I had a feeling that sothing was going to go wrong, though I didn’t know what.
I wanted everyone to like my dad, to welco him, and to trust him like I did. Maybe Gio was right and I was being naive, letting my emotions get in the way of my logic, but I felt like I needed to get to know him better, that he wasn’t at all the villain I’d often imagined when I was younger.
I’d spent so long without a father, imagining every scenario possible of why he had abandoned , that now that I had one, I lived in a constant state of terror that I would wake up one day and he would be gone once more.
“Nervous?” Dahlia asked, bumping into my shoulder lightly.
“Yeah. What if you’re right? What if this is a disaster and I should’ve just–” I swallowed, uncomfortably, unwilling the voice the darker part of my thoughts, flashes of violence and anger in my mind. I finished laly, “Should I have gone with... pizza?”
“You know I think you should always go with pizza,” Dahlia smiled, but her eyes softened as the glass of wine trembled in my hands. “But I think this ti, you made the right decision, Olive. We’ll be right here with you all the way, okay?”
I smiled, my eyes misting up with emotion and I sighed, leaning my head on her shoulder. “You’re the best, Dolly.”
“This we know.” She nodded sagely.
“Signora!” A call from the head chef as he entered the kitchen with a huge smile broke from my thoughts. “You have the nu, Signora?”
“Oh, of course!” I grabbed my phone, quickly shooting off the text to his number. “Will it be all right? I’ll help with anything you might need. Like I make a pretty good tiramisu if we can’t do the–"
“It’s perfetto, Signora.” He laughed good-naturedly. “It sounds delicious and won’t be a problem at all.”
“Good,” I breathed a sigh of relief just as I heard a soft cry from my phone.
“Looks like sobody woke up from their nap.” Dahlia grinned. “Want to get him?”
“Could you? I’ll brew us so coffee to wake us up,” I smiled.
“You know I’ll steal that munchkin one day if you let . I’ll show him how to get free drinks at the bar!” Dahlia called off, heading straight to the baby’s room without a second glance.
“Make sure Gio doesn’t find out!” I called back teasingly, knowing she could hear .
“Damn!” I heard faintly from down the hall. I laughed, getting to my feet to clean up the wine. I tucked it all away, starting the coffee machine and cleaning up the glass I used.
By the ti the machine dinged with two cups made just to order, Dahlia ca back with my sleepy Elio in her arms. He yawned, rubbing at the corner of his eyes with his balled-up fist.
“Hey, baby,” I cooed, as he caught sight of and automatically reached his arms out for . Dahlia transferred him over to easily and he clung to my neck, still a bit out of it. “Have a nice nap?”
“Mama.” He tucked his head into my collarbone, and I chuckled.
Dahlia grabbed the cups and we headed to the living room, easily bypassing the baby gate we had set up. I turned on the cartoons with one hand, Dahlia curling up into the couch next to as she handed my own mug.
It took a few minutes but soon Elio slid off my lap and onto the floor, crawling his way happily to his toys. He grinned as he got into the stationary toy car his daddy had bought for him. It was a perfect size for him. He honked the horn and burst into giggles at the sound.
“So are you and Gio okay?” Dahlia asked with a concerned look. “I noticed he’s been gone a lot.”
“We are,” I sighed. “And he is, but between work and him being convinced that my father is a con artist or worse, after Gio and not really here for , we don’t get much ti together. But that’s only natural considering all the snooping he’s been doing. Mostly, he cos ho and spends ti with Elio before we crash.”
“Hm.” Dahlia shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not a good judge of character, clearly, so I can’t say if he is or not.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” I told her with a frown.
“I fell for a man who literally kidnapped and sold to a Russian mob.” She sent a serious look. “My judgnt’s kinda questionable after that.”
I opened my mouth to protest but she held up a hand, giving a hard look.
“Don’t try to defend it. Just don’t,” she warned . Once I fell silent, she continued on with her previous thought, looking rather pensive. “Unlike you or , Gio is the Don, Olive. He is always in danger and he has to look out for himself in a way we don’t. It’s a constant battle, and I’ve seen my dad betrayed by n he’d trusted his whole life just for money or power. Imagine that but Gio doing it for over twenty years. Doing that for so many years could make you kinda–”
“Paranoid,” I finished softly.
“Yeah.” She nodded. “He may see problems where there aren’t any for a while, Olive, but it has nothing to do with you or your dad. Just be patient with him, okay?”
I nodded, my heart softening as I looked at the situation from his perspective. Dahlia’s advice was right–I had to be patient with Gio. It would take a while to build trust between my father and my family, for Gio especially.
But I knew this dinner will be the perfect step forward to bring us together, for all of us.
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