Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
I took a deep breath to tell him to back off, but I released it. Alessandro worried because he didn’t have a better way to show he cared about people. And he’d been unexpectedly tactful in his approach. If he only ever asked circuitous, suggestive questions, I could live with that.
We dropped the bowls off in the kitchen to be washed and headed for the dining room, where Gio was strapping Elio into his high chair. Our son was mercifully paint-free, but I couldn’t say the same for Gio. His pants alone had escaped the carnage. The suit jacket dangling off his chair was smeared with every color I’d purchased, his white shirt could no longer be called such, and the blue on his cheek remained.
To be fair, I wasn’t in a much better state. I’d pulled out a T-shirt and exercise shorts I kept dedicated for painting, so I bore not only today’s stains but years of ground-in color. Even Alessandro had a little paint on his shirt from the trip to the kitchen.
Dahlia flounced in wearing a highlighter-yellow cocktail dress paneled with black piping creating a mosaic pattern. She took in the rest of our mess and pouted a little.
“I guess Elio and I are in charge of looking good tonight.”
Maria came out with family-style platters of food. Tonight, it was fettuccine alfredo for the adults and plain fettuccine for Elio, who picked up handfuls of the pasta to shove into his mouth.
We ate and talked, lingering over our meal despite whatever urgent business brought Alessandro to the house. Thanks to Dahlia, the conversation didn’t circle around to Salvatore once. Every time she saw it going down that route, she threw out a new ridiculous hypothetical, which Alessandro descended on with the voracity of a bear, drawing the rest of us in. By the end of the meal, I was in stitches from trying to force Gio to choose between living in Disneyland or Disney World, neither of which he’d ever been to.
He pushed his chair back from the table. “It seems, to defend my honor and my bedroom, I have to bring this evening to a close.”
Dahlia, Alessandro, and I groaned. Elio smacked his hand in the remainder of his pasta, scattering bits of half-chewed fettucine everywhere.
“We can’t exactly sit here until my son falls asleep at the table.” He smiled softly.
“Seep!” Elio crowed.
I leaned over to Dahlia and whispered, “Can you take him for a couple of minutes? I need to catch Gio before whatever Alessandro cooked up.”
She nodded.
Gio stood. “I need a minute to get my paper in order, but after that, Alessandro, please join me in my office.”
Alessandro nodded sharply and began helping Maria clear plates. Gio kissed me on the head, circled the table to kiss Elio, and began walking away.
I darted after him and caught him on the stairs with a hand on his elbow. Part of me nagged that this was a very exposed place to be talking, but I didn’t have any secrets to share. I was just asking my husband to go to lunch with my father. That was okay.
Gio turned to me with a surprised look on his face. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course it is!” I blurted nervously. “I mean, yes. I just had something I wanted to ask you without an audience.”
Gio’s eyes darkened, and he took a step closer, his body pressing into my space. “And what is that, carina?”
I shook my head. “Not that sort of thing.”
Gio pursed his lips and stepped back.
“Sal called,” I said. “And you promised to trust my instincts.”
He nodded slowly. “I did.”
“He wants to go to lunch tomorrow, and he wants me to bring Elio and—”
“I will be in attendance,” Gio said abruptly.
I huffed. “I knew you’d say that. I told him on the phone you would.”
Gio shrugged helplessly. “I am trusting your instincts. I will go to lunch, and I will be reasonable. I simply don’t think you alone should take our baby to meet any strange man.”
A willful instinct rose up in me, suggesting I take Elio to meet the first strange man I came across just to prove him wrong, but I swallowed it.
“I don’t go anywhere alone,” I reminded him. “I always have my guards.”
“I know, I just–” He ran a hand through his hair. “I would feel better if I could see him.”
“Of course,” I said. “I think you should go. I just wanted to make sure you remembered that, because I don’t know if you’re always going to be able to come.”
“Always?” he asked. “So you’re settled on doing this again?”
I pulled up short. I hadn’t meant to say that. This lunch was supposed to be another test.
Alessandro stepped out of the dining room and looked up at us.
“I don’t know yet,” I said honestly. “All I know is that you can’t put yourself between him and us forever if I do decide that.”
I turned and walked down the stairs. Behind me, I heard Gio tell Alessandro he needed another minute yet.
In the dining room, Dahlia lifted Elio out of his chair. He looked alert and excited. He wouldn’t be going down without a little playtime.
I held out my arms for him, and Dahlia passed him over easily.
“Does somebody want to go outside for a little?” I cooed.
“I do,” Dahlia said. “But this dress doesn’t sit great.”
“Should somebody not have dressed up for a regular night in?” I asked Elio.
He clapped and laughed.
“Harsh.” Dahlia shook her head. “I’ll meet you out back.”
I carried Elio to the back door, grabbing one of our picnic blankets on the way. My mom always said a little evening air toughened up a baby’s lungs, and I wanted him to have every advantage in life.
I got him settled and started a round of patty-cake, one of his new favorite games. His eyes sparkled, and his laugh sounded like a thousand bells. I couldn’t imagine leaving him, even to protect him. I would find a way to hide us together if push came to shove.
Could I really trust Salvatore if he wouldn’t make the same choice?
I took a deep breath and remembered eight-year-old Olivia crying at the back of the classroom. I kept thinking about him, kept saying I wanted more when people asked.
Elio fell over giggling, and I realized the truth.
I wanted a relationship with my dad.
*Giovani*
I stood behind my desk, staring out through the old, multi-paned window into the garden below, where I could see Dahlia and Olivia playing some sort of clapping game with Elio on a picnic blanket in the evening light.
Olivia missed a step intentionally, and Elio toppled backward, clearly overcome by giggles. A slow smile crept over my face, but it was tinged with frustration. I knew I should be down there with them, enjoying the time after dinner with my family. Instead, I was waiting up here to speak to Alessandro, who’d requested a moment to gather his thoughts.
I crossed my arms and turned away from the window. I didn’t know exactly what Alessandro wished to speak with me about, but the only reason he would have called a lunch meeting was if he wanted to keep it away from Olivia. We had a mostly open-door policy these days, but she rarely cared about my work this late in the evening.
