Page 46 of Christmas with the Mafia

“My phone died, and I haven’t charged it. To be honest, I can’t find my charger either, and I wasted one hour searching for it.”

“I’ll find you one, hand it to me.”

As I hand the phone over, he shakes his head. “What is this?”

“My phone, of course.”

“This is not a phone; it’s a dinosaur.”

I must admit it’s an old one, but until it actually dies, its fit for purpose.

“It works perfectly well for me.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’ll see if we have a charger that could work.”

As he makes his way out of the room, I stare at the impossible task ahead of me. To be honest, Christmas at Quincy’s is sounding more appealing right now because I have a feeling that this will be a challenging assignment. If his family wants him to marry somebody else, they won’t take too kindly to my presence at the Christmas table.

This is shaping up to be a disaster, and yet I can’t let Nico down. He’s been so kind, and it’s only two days after all. What could go wrong?

It’s strange that after two days I have grown accustomed to traveling in convoy. This one is larger than most due to the fact that our luggage and gifts have been loaded into another car.

If I considered anything was strange about traveling this way, I don’t now. If anything, I love the convenience it offers because I don’t need to wonder about where I’m going or how I’m getting there. All I’m required to do is stare out of the window and contemplate how well my life has turned out right now.

Nico is quiet beside me, and after a while he says with a deep sigh, “Do you have any questions?”

“Just one. Who will be there?”

I’m surprised when he tangles his fingers with mine and groans. “My father, mother and brothers.”

“How many?”

“Three. Simeon, Joseph and Julius.”

“You’re lucky. I’m an only child.”

“Then you are living the dream.”

“You don’t mean that.”

He must be teasing, and I guess that’s what siblings do. They pretend to hate one another, but really they love one another because it’s the law of nature.

“What should I call your parents?”

“Sir and ma’am.”

“Really?”

That sounds a little formal, but who am I to judge?

He squeezes my hand hard. “My family is unconventional. The security that surrounds me is there because of my upbringing.”

“In what way?”

I’m intrigued, and he sighs. “It’s complicated, but well, my father runs an empire that makes many enemies. It’s why he prefers to keep strangers out and why he wants me to marry somebody acquainted with our family. His best friend’s daughter.”

“What does she think about it? She may not want to marry you.”

“She does.”