Authors: Dana Marie Bell
“I’m glad to hear it.” Dante took Beth’s hand. “Gio is my older brother.”
“And one of you?”
Beth didn’t miss the sharp glance Teresa shot them over her shoulder, but Dante replied serenely. “Yes.”
When Teresa turned back around, the odd satisfaction on Teresa’s face sent shivers down Beth’s spine.
They arrived at the table, Teresa making quick introductions in half Italian, half English that left Beth’s mind reeling. “Gio, this is your brother’s
fidanzata
, Elizabeth. Elizabeth, my eldest son, Giovanni.”
Beth held out her hand, refusing to be intimidated by Gio’s sheer size. The Zucco men were huge, and Gio was no exception. Giovanni Zucco was an older, fiercer version of Dante, but with his mother’s dark hair. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too.” Gio shared a guarded glance with Dante, smiling at her when Dante nodded. “
Very
nice to meet you.” He winked at Dante, and suddenly Beth saw how much he resembled his father. His wicked grin went from ear to ear as he held out her chair. “Allow me.”
“
Leccaculo
,” Dante coughed under his breath. He grimaced as his mother whapped him upside the head. “Sorry, Mama.”
“Hmph.” Teresa took her own seat as her sons and one of her daughters laughed. The other one looked like she’d sucked a lemon. “Francesca, say hello to Dante’s
fidanzata
.”
“Hello.”
Well. Francesca’s chilly tone didn’t exactly fill Beth with the warm and fuzzies. “Hello.” Francesca had her father’s gold hair and a cold expression that wasn’t shared by the rest of the Zucco clan. Her husband sat quietly at her side, drinking and ignoring everyone around him, including his two adorable children.
“Hi, I’m Anna, the baby.” Anna was a dainty blonde with a ready grin who took after her father, but with her mother’s brown eyes, a trait shared by all of the Zucco children. “And these are my munchkins, Suzanne and Anthony.” Suzanne was about eighteen months old and utterly adorable, while her son was around three and stared at Beth like she was the second coming. “This is my husband, Trevor.”
Trevor quickly swallowed the hors d’oeuvre he’d been munching on. “Hi.” He held out his hand, shaking Beth’s firmly. “Nice to meet you.”
“What is it you do for a living?” Francesca’s tone was belligerent.
Beth smiled sweetly as Dante whispered in her ear. “Wine?”
Oh God
,
yes please.
If Francesca was going to be
that
relative, she’d need some alcoholic fortification. “Thanks.”
He patted her shoulder before taking off, and Beth could feel the sympathy dripping off the gesture. Not that he stuck around to help her. She turned her attention back to his older sister. “I’m a private investigator.”
“Really?” The evil satisfaction on her face had Beth wondering what the hell she’d ever done to Francesca Zucco to earn such enmity. “Dante
hates
private investigators.”
“Does he?” Beth glanced over at Teresa to find the older woman scowling at her daughter.
“I just simply cannot believe that an intelligent woman in this day and age would choose a career as a private investigator when she could have been a lawyer or a doctor. Or even a nurse,” Francesca said with a venomous side glance at her youngest sister.
“Keep me out of it, Frankie,” Anna said cheerfully, but with a hint of steel in her tone. Beth recognized the look. Dante had sent it her way more than once. “I have no interest in whatever crawled up your ass and died.” Anna grinned at her mother. “Sorry.”
“Well, all I want to know is, why can’t you have a real career? Lillian had a wonderful career as a photographer before she married Dante.”
Beth clenched her hands in her lap and reminded herself that she could be arrested if she did what she was thinking of doing. “Were you and Lillian close?” she asked as nonchalantly as possible.
“Lillian and Frankie were best friends,” Anna offered up before the older woman could reply. “They still are, as a matter of fact.”
“Ah,” Beth nodded, deciding to get her own dig in. She’d done her homework on Dante, and now was her chance to prove it. She tilted her head. “How is she handling the divorce from Hershman?”
There was silence for a moment. Beth looked up to see shock and anger on the face of Francesca. “What do you mean, divorce?”
Beth took the glass of wine Dante held out for her, gently placing it on the table. She very carefully did not look at Dante. “She filed for divorce three days ago. Didn’t she tell you?”
Francesca’s answering smile was poisonous. “Well, now that she’s divorcing Jerry, maybe she’ll come back to the family where she belongs.” She smiled sweetly at Dante.
“Which family would that be?” Beth kept the bland smile in place with an effort. Francesca was really beginning to get on her nerves.
“You know I would never consider taking Lillian back, Francesca,” Dante growled suddenly. Maybe this was an old argument, and she’d just found herself in the middle of it.
Francesca shrugged, a smug little smile on her face. “I know she hurt you, Dante, but you have to realize that Jerry just swept her off her feet. She wants you back. She’s wanted you back for a year now. Why won’t you listen to her? Give her another chance.”
Dante sighed. “When will you stop harping on the subject? I have no further interest in Lillian.” He reached under the table and gave Beth’s hand a surreptitious squeeze, a movement that was not lost on Francesca. He pried her hands apart and took one of them in his own, resting it against the back of his hard thigh. His thumb gently ran over her knuckles. “I’m taken.”
“Enough, Francesca.” Teresa, a frown on her face, glared at her second oldest child. “Your brother lives his life as he sees fit. If Lillian had wanted to be with Dante so badly she would never have slept with Jerry.” Teresa dismissed her former daughter-in-law with one wave of her dainty hand. “Now, Elizabeth, tell me about your family.” She smiled encouragingly, but Beth still felt herself stiffening.
“My parents were divorced when I was four. Both my parents have been remarried.” Beth refused to say how many times, not in front of Francesca.
“And where are they now? Are they living in Delaware?”
“My mother is currently living in Los Angeles, and my father has been in Florida for the past five years.” Beth bit back a smile. “My father owns Rand Construction, and my mother...” There was no real way to explain exactly what her mother did, so Beth shrugged.
“Really? I’ve heard they are a good company to work for,” Anna said with genuine curiosity.
Beth smiled. “He enjoys his work, which is more than I can say for most people these days.”
Francesca smirked behind her napkin. “So, let me see if I’ve got this straight. Your father is a construction worker, and your mother is a professional gold-digger. Do I have that right?”
There was silence for a moment, with Anna looking uncomfortable, Russ looking shocked and the Zucco boys looking pissed off.
“Oh, I tawt I taw a puddy tat,” Beth whispered, grinning savagely. She leaned back comfortably in her chair.
Dante’s hand tightened around hers in warning.
She chose to ignore it.
“Tell, me, Francesca, did the dean ever figure out exactly who it was who set the gym on fire?” She leaned forward and rested her chin on her hand. She ignored the startled gasps of Dante’s family, far too intent on the expression on Francesca’s face. She saw the shock that settled in just before Francesca excused herself to go to the ladies room.
Beth found herself unceremoniously hauled to her feet. “Excuse us, I need to introduce her around,” Dante ground out around a smile. Ignoring the shocked looks on the faces of his parents he dragged Beth behind him.
Beth tsked. “Aw, puddy fall down go boom,” she whispered gleefully.
“One more word and I swear I will turn you over my knee and paddle you here and now,” he grated. He had the semblance of a smile plastered on his face, but she could almost hear his teeth grinding. If he clenched his jaw any harder he’d be spitting out shards of broken molars. “Where the hell did you come up with that bit of information?” he growled as he pulled her along behind him.
“It’s in her sealed records,” she replied softly, glancing around curiously. Every eye was on her. She wondered if they’d figured out she’d been fighting with Francesca. From the friendly, curious gazes directed her way, she was going with
no
.
He stopped and stared at her, taken aback by her response. “My sister actually did that?”
“She didn’t light the match, but she certainly assisted. They didn’t have definite proof, but there was some evidence that she got the gas.” She found herself stroking his arm, trying to offer comfort. She’d had no idea he hadn’t known, and now she regretted using it against Francesca. Winning against his sister wasn’t worth seeing him hurt. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew.”
He blew out an aggravated breath. “She’s always been pissed that it was the boys who got powers and she and Anna were by-blows.”
“By-blows?”
He smiled at someone who yelled out his name. “By-blow is a child or grandchild of a Neph born without powers. Francesca has always believed she should have followed in Mama’s footsteps, but instead Gio and I have.”
“And it chaps her ass, so she tries to run your lives.”
“Basically.” He took her hand in his and gently walked her over to one of the many tables in the banquet hall. He casually kissed one of the elderly ladies on the cheek. “Aunt Rosa,
buon compleanno
.” The affection in his voice warmed her. The man obviously adored his family, even the annoying ones.
“
Grazie
, Dante,
grazie.
Chi è il tuo amica?
”
“
È
il mio fidanzata
, Elizabeth. Elizabeth, this is my aunt, Rosa Benedetto Giancarno. My mother’s sister.”
Beth nodded politely. “How do you do?”
Rosa laughed. “Not too badly, for my age.” Her accent was thicker than her sister’s, her figure more rounded, but they both had the same laughing brown eyes and ease of manners that Beth found so charming. “I hope you are enjoying yourself?” She gazed up at Beth, and Beth found herself charmed.
“As much as I possibly can,” she grinned.
As Dante talked quietly in Italian to Rosa’s husband, Lou, Rosa stood and pulled Beth aside. “Now I introduce you around properly,” she declared as she marched Beth off. Looking back, she saw Dante watching her as he replied to something his uncle said. His attention was almost immediately claimed by another uncle, and the three seemed to enter into a lively conversation. Still, as she was led around the room, Beth occasionally felt Dante’s attention focused on her and knew he was watching.
She didn’t remember half of the people she was introduced to, trained investigator or not. She did manage to not show how shocked she was by how much of her life had already circulated around the room.
“You’re Dante’s new girlfriend.” One of Dante’s numerous teenage cousins smiled at her, the braces on her teeth shining.
Another asked, “Are you really a private investigator?”
She found herself surrounded by teenage boys, discussing some of the finer details of private investigations, such as stake outs and gun fights.
She escaped just in time to be snagged by another relative whose face and name she didn’t remember, but who dragged her over to discuss whether or not Teresa ought to be out and about so soon after her surgery. After determining that the Teresa under discussion was not Dante’s mother, Beth withdrew from the conversation as gracefully as she could, only to find her arm firmly clasped once more by the energetic Aunt Rosa.
Aunt Rosa introduced her to Dante’s grandmother, a spry woman in her eighties who didn’t hear a word Beth said, but repeated over and over again “
Elisabetta
,
bella
,
bella!
” and shoved breadsticks into her hands.
Trying to move away, she found herself in the grip of a strong, if slightly intoxicated, uncle who whirled her out onto the dance floor, leered cheerfully down her dress and asked her where she kept her gun.
Escaping from the uncle when his wife took him in hand, Beth finally managed to make her way back to the table, her head reeling half in Italian, half in English as the party
really
got under way.
Dante was nowhere to be found.
Teresa, her toes tapping, took Beth onto the dance floor to help herd the children. Beth took Francesca’s twins in hand, kicking off her heels and dancing as energetically as the children surrounding her. An only child, she didn’t often get a chance to play with children, but she loved them. One day she hoped to have at least two. She didn’t want her kids growing up as lonely as she’d been.
Sometime during the chicken dance, Beth looked up, laughing hysterically at little John having chicken seizures.
Dante was watching her, a strange, soft expression on his face. His sisters stood by him, Anna grinning hugely, Francesca scowling. Gio looked beyond pleased as he chatted with Anna.
Before Beth could respond she was snatched once again, this time by Dante’s father. He handed her shoes to her and dragged her out of the ballroom. “Let’s get out of here.”
Slipping her pumps back on, Beth followed him outside. She was surprised to see him smoking in front of the building. “It can get a little rowdy in there.” He smiled. “I thought you might like a break.”
His quiet, deep voice reminded her of Dante. “Thanks,” she sighed, sitting on the cold stone retaining wall that held the restaurant’s plants and shrubs. She gratefully shrugged on the dress jacket he handed her when a particularly cold breeze caused her to shiver.
His chuckle was deep. “I remember my first party with Teresa’s family. Everyone spoke Italian, and I couldn’t understand a word of what they were saying.”
“Can you understand it now?” she asked, watching him curiously.
“Nope.” He grinned, puffing on his cigarette. “I’m a fourth-generation Italian. I know what lasagna and
mangia
mean, and that’s it.”