Page 34 of Light It Up Red
“I’m good. Thank you for having me. You have a lovely home, Mrs. O’Neil,” I say as she pulls me in for a hug.
“It’s just Frances.” She releases me with a smile, then looks over to Travis again. “Your father’s by the grill. You two can go on out. I’ll be there in a sec.”
“Do you need a hand with anything?” I offer.
“Oh, no, sweetheart. You’re our guests. Travis, get the girl a drink,” she says before waving us off.
“Come on, babe.” Travis guides me through a sliding glass door and out onto a deck. “Dad, you grilling or cremating those steaks?” he calls out to his father in a teasing tone.
A middle-aged man, who appears to be a carbon copy of Travis only older, turns around with a huge smile on his face. He sets a pair of tongs aside and walks over to us. “You must be Liliana. My son hasn’t stopped talking about you. I’m Sean. It’s so good to finally meet you.”
“You too,” I tell him and can feel the blush creeping up my cheeks.
“Dad, do not embarrass me. She still thinks I’m cool,” Travis grumbles.
I look at his father and shake my head. “I let him think that, but I’ve seen his collection of Star Wars figurines. The cool factor went way down the moment I saw those.” I laugh.
“Oh, I like you. Come on, have a seat. What can I get you to drink?” Mr. O’Neil asks.
***
“Your parents are really nice,” I tell Travis on the ride home. “Normal.”
“As opposed to what?” He laughs. “Were you expecting aliens or something?”
“No, but you’ve met my family. Some of them. And they’re certainly not normal,” I remind him.
“Your family is fine,” he says.
“Really?” I ask with raised brows. “Okay, let’s do this.”
“Do what?”
“Go to my place. My parents’ house,” I say. I haven’t taken Travis home yet. I haven’t wanted to scare him. He’s dropped me off at the gate plenty of times. But I’ve never invited him inside.
“Okay,” he says, seemingly unfazed.
“Just, um, whatever you see at my house, you didn’t see it.” I pull out my phone and send my mother a quick text.
Me:
Mom, I’m bringing Travis over. Do me a favor and send Dad out on an errand or something.
Mom:
He’s already out. But you know he’ll find out you have a guest the moment you drive through the gates.
Me:
Can we at least pretend to be as normal as possible for an hour? Just an hour.
Mom:
We are normal, Lil.
I tuck my phone away again. I don’t bother arguing with my mother. She knows we’re not normal. Despite being mafia royalty, she didn’t grow up in this world. Her parents were from warring families—some real-life Romeo and Juliet type shit. They ran off together and raised my mom and my Zia Lilah under aliases. So as much as she gets it, she also doesn’t. She tries her best though.
When Travis pulls up to the gate, I instruct the guard to let us through, speaking in Italian while pleading with him to wait fifteen minutes before calling my father. I know he won’t. My father’s men are loyal to a fault. As they should be.
