Page 198 of The Havenport Collection

Nora

I woke up early and let myself out of Luke’s house.

He was so nice to me it was…disorienting.

I had to take a moment and remember why I disliked him.

He was a cocky rich asshole who didn’t care about anyone but himself.

Privileged and self-centered, he expected everyone to fawn all over him.

But I didn’t have the usual energy to hate him today. It was all so confusing.

As if my life wasn’t shitty enough, now I had to contend with the fact that Luke may actually be a decent person?

I shook my head; it wasn’t possible. He was someone who spent a lot of time trying to make himself look like a kind, generous person to hide his evil narcissism.

That seemed like a reasonable explanation.

Chief Mason was kind and helpful as he walked through with me and the insurance inspector.

In the cold light of day, it was better than I thought.

My house was still a shithole and every room reeked of smoke, but the damage was confined to the bathroom and laundry room.

There had been some kitchen damage, but mainly to the floor and one wall.

It would take some time, but it was fixable, and I could do it. So I rolled up my sleeves, grabbed my phone to document the damage, and got to work.

By midafternoon, I had emailed everything to the insurance company and spoken to the building inspector and a plumber who were going to come by tomorrow to assess the damage.

I was dancing to Taylor Swift when I heard a loud, persistent knocking on my door. What the fuck? It was midafternoon; who was at my door?

I ran down the stairs, pulling my fluffy cardigan closed. I opened the door and was met with two disapproving faces.

“What do you guys want?”

“Wow. What a way to greet your brothers,” Christian said, elbowing his way into my house.

“It’s worse than we thought!” he shouted over his shoulder to Gio, who was walking behind him, gazing around at my disaster of a house.

“Why are you here?” I shouted, pouting like a toddler.

“I heard through the grapevine that the fire department was here last night,” Christian said.

I broke into a cold sweat. I didn’t want this getting around town. “What? How?”

“I have my ways.”

“Nora, do you actually live here?” Gio looked around the first floor, his face a mask of concern.

“Stop with your lectures, Gio. I’m not in the mood.”

Christian and Gio were two of my five older brothers. All of them were overbearing and meddling to a fault, but two, I could handle.

Gio was a sommelier who had traveled the world studying wine and worked as a buyer for a large importer.

He supplemented his income as a finish carpenter and furniture maker, which made his visit especially unpleasant.

Within two minutes of crossing the threshold, he started taking photos, measurements, and writing notes with a pencil that he kept behind his ear.

Christian, on the other hand, was more stylish than I was.

He was a Wall Street guy who had made a ton of money and then moved home with his husband, Dante.

He mostly invested his money and hung around town now, which was super fun when I wanted to go out for drinks, but not so much when he was walking around my house making disapproving faces.

“Can you guys leave, please?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips.

“We’re here to help, sis. Why didn’t you call?”

“Because I have it handled.”

“It doesn’t look like things are handled. It looks like this place was a disaster before the fire.”

“It’s a work in progress.” It might not be as fancy as their homes, that was for sure, but it was mine, and I wouldn’t let them talk shit about my house.

“Who is doing the work here?” Gio asked sternly

“The Carmine brothers.” I said, bracing for impact. They were from the neighboring town of Westbury and, while cheap, not known for their attention to detail.

“Why, why would you hire them?”

“Because I didn’t want to use any Havenport people.

I didn’t want it getting out just how much of a fixer-upper this place was.

The home inspection turned up a lot of shit, and I needed guys who would keep their mouths shut.

” I also needed people who would work cheaply, and they fit the bill.

I only had so much capital, and this place needed a new roof on top of all the expensive electrical and plumbing work.

“Because of Mom?”

“Nonna?”

“Dad?”

“Your friends?”

“Because of everyone!” I snapped. “You know how shitty Mom was about me buying this house. You know how everyone thinks I can’t manage life. I am going to make this place amazing.”

Gio came over and put his arm around my shoulders. “No one thinks you can’t manage life, Nora. But this…this may be a bit more than one person can manage.”

“Do you even have water?” Christian asked, sounding terrified.

“No. It’s turned off. I need to wait for the plumber to submit the plans to the inspector to fix the damage. It will only be a few days.”

My brothers exchanged looks, and I wanted to slap both of them.

I pointed my finger at each of them. “I do not want to hear it right now. I’m trying to clean up a massive mess and make the best of a really difficult situation. You can either leave and keep your big mouths shut about this or you can help me. Your choice.”

They exchanged looks—clearly communicating telepathically that I was unhinged—before springing into action.

Gio whipped his phone out. “I can get a dumpster here in an hour. And I’ll repair the stairway for you. I’m not sure this is structurally sound. Christian, you’re on cleanup.”

Christian nodded, carefully removing his cashmere winter coat and draping it over one of the sawhorses. “I’ll help Nora with the garbage and the water.”

“I have an industrial shop vac in my workshop,” Gio added.

“Perfect,” Christian said. “Get your supplies and come back. If you’re going to insist on living here, Nora, we will at least help you make it marginally safe and clean.”

I wanted a shower, a nap, and a bottle of wine. But in that moment, I was grateful for my brothers. They may be meddling assholes, but they were my meddling assholes.

Gio came back thirty minutes later with trash bags, a shop vac, and several power tools which I could not identify. He got to work, tearing off the old stairs and replacing them.

To the sound of his saw and nail gun, Christian and I cleaned up the debris from the fire. We tore off the cabinet doors that were burned and chipped up the rest of the damaged tile. We filled eleven trash bags with shit before turning to the shop vac.

“Did you think about my proposal? For Jeanious Bar?” Christian asked.

He looked so ridiculous in his designer clothes with a pair of blue rubber gloves on.

But I loved him for it. My big Italian family had many faults, but we always showed up for one another.

And in this moment, staring into the wreckage of my house, I was so grateful for that.

But I did not want them involved in my business.

I shook my head. “I’ve had a lot of promising meetings.”

He eyed me suspiciously. “You know I will do anything to help you. Set up meetings, invest myself, help you pitch. Whatever you need.”

Christian and Dante had offered to invest in my business. It was so generous, but not what I was looking for. I needed to do this myself. And I needed to work with investors with retail and web platform experience. As much as I loved my brother, I didn’t want him to be my boss.

“Thanks. I will let you know if I need you.”

He shot me a look and then went back to his vacuuming.

After a few hours the stairs were fixed, and things were looking less dire. I still had a long way to go, but it was a start.

The boys and I were eating pizza, sitting on folding chairs, in what would someday be my living room.

“So why don’t you have a boyfriend?” Gio asked, stealing the last slice of pizza.

“Because men suck,” I huffed.

“Not the gay ones,” Christian interjected.

“Fair enough. I’m just not dating right now. And you’re one to talk, Gio. You’re way older than I am and chronically single.”

“I like being single. And I’m busy. I have a buying trip to France coming up next month and more furniture orders than I can manage. There’s no time.”

“How is that possible?” Was there really that big of a market for custom furniture in Havenport?

“Look at him, Nora.” Christian gestured with his beer. “The old ladies love him.”

“I will say they do come to my workshop pretty often.” Gio smirked.

Where Christian was refined and groomed within an inch of his life, Gio had a rougher look, with thick stubble, broad shoulders, and a bit of a chip on his shoulder. The over-fifty population of Havenport loved him. It was so annoying.

He was so ridiculously cocky. I stuck my tongue out at him. “I think you’re still in love with Sam.” Christian shot me a look, and Gio’s face fell.

“Not at all,” he said, his voice a bit shaky.

“She was your best friend.” I shrugged. I was so much younger I never knew the full story.

But Sam and Gio were inseparable growing up, and we all thought they would end up together.

It was so obvious they were in love, especially when they insisted on going to the same college.

But then she joined the Peace Corps and took off.

I knew they kept in touch and had seen each other over the years, but he never talked about her.

But sometimes my brothers liked to tease him to get under his skin.

“A lifetime ago.”

“Her aunt comes into Dante’s salon regularly. Says she’s doing amazing things,” Christian added, studying Gio’s face.

“I’ve seen her on Instagram,” I added.

Gio looked furious. “What? You follow her?”

“Why wouldn’t I? She is basically life goals. She’s a fierce independent woman who travels the world kicking ass. I want to be her when I grow up.”

“Shut up, Nora,” he grumbled.

“She’s still gorgeous,” I say, watching Gio grimace.

I knew I was poking at Gio, but I assumed two decades was enough time to heal that wound. Maybe I was wrong. Thankfully, Christian had the good sense to change the subject.

“Can you imagine if Mom saw this place?”

Gio laughed. “Forget Mom. Nonna?"

“Nonna would lose it. She’d start screaming that she was going to join Papa in heaven because you killed her with your house of horrors.”

I snorted because that was scarily accurate.

And as much as I didn’t want their interference, they’d made a huge difference today.

“I love you idiots,” I said. “Thank you.”

“We’re always here for you,” Gio said.

“I know that. I don’t expect you to understand. But I’m capable and tough.”

“We know you are.”

“And I just need to do this for myself. This is what I wanted. I bought this house knowing it would be hard and I’d have to make sacrifices. I don’t need anyone to save me or help me.”

“I respect your independence, but you’re still a dumbass. I’m glad you let us help.”

I shot them both my best nasty glare. “Only if you both promise to keep this a secret.”

They nodded.

I held out my pinkie. “Swear?”

“We’re not kids, Nora.”

“A pinkie swear is binding and you know it.”

“Fuck, you’re right. Okay.” And they both held out their pinkies and linked with mine.

“I love you guys, but if you tell anyone I will hurt you.”

“What are you going to do? Kick us in the balls like when we were kids?” Gio quipped.

“Of course I will. Still works, doesn’t it?”

“God, you’re the worst. Good thing we love you, little sis.”

“Back atcha fuckers.”