Page 78 of Driftwood Daffodil 3

Was this the dinner date that Atlee was talking about? I was so confused. “Will someone tell me what is going on?”

Both the Mancini brothers looked my way, but did either of them answer me? Of course not. Why would they do that? The only response that did come was when Romeo looked at his brother and asked, “you got her a dress, right?”

To which Gio waved his hand, “it’s over there.”

I followed his wave to a bag hanging on the wall next to his dresser. Even from here I could tell that whatever was in there was way too fancy for me. First off the bag was made of cloth instead of plastic and it had a zipper. A goddamn zipper. Like something one would get from a bridal shop, or the stores that were too good to be in the mall. One thing was for sure…

“I’m not wearing that.” I emphasized my point with a firm arm cross.

Neither one of them said a word. They didn’t have to. The look on their face told me all I needed to know. One way or another I would be wearing that dress. Fighting Gio was one thing. Heck, it was quickly becoming my favorite activity, but considering what Romeo did to my bat—which he still owed me a new one for—I had no desire to go up against him again.

“Ugh, fine.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll wear the damn dress, but you two need to tell me what’s going on.”

Gio explained, “my uncle is in town so we’re having a family dinner.”

That’s what this was all about? Big deal. We had family dinners every night. “Why do I need to get dressed up for that?”

Maw Maw and Veda were lucky if I got dressed at all for our dinners. Last night I ate in a t-shirt and panties.

“It’s afamilydinner.” Gio said.

It took a second before the way he said family registered.

“Oh. It’s afamilydinner,” I explained using finger quotes. “Not family family, butfamily.”

Gio waved his hand and gave a nod. “Exactly.”

Now I understood. Well, mostly understood.

“Okay, but why am I here?” The family, or mob, had nothing to do with me.

“You’re my fiancé.”

Ugh, technicality. Besides, “I don’t see a ring on my finger.”

Romeo looked at his brother. “You haven’t given her the ring yet?”

Gio had a ring?

“Don’t worry,” Gio grumbled. “She’ll be wearing it.”

No the hell I wouldn’t.

“She better. Now, both of you get dressed.” Romeo said then pointed at me. “And do something with your hair.”

“You can’t tell me what to do. Only Gio can tell me what to do.” Not that I would listen, but he could try.

I regretted that statement the second the corner of Gio’s mouth twisted into a smirk. “That’s right. Now be a good girl and go get dressed.”

This son of a…

I was about to tell him off when I suddenly remembered my bet with Atlee and bit my tongue. The need to tell Gio to fuck off was strong, but not as strong as my desire to never refer to Atlee as sir.

So, I plastered a smile on my face, sang, “I will,” in the sweetest tone I could muster, and skipped across the room to grab the bag holding my unwanted dress.

“There’s some make-up and stuff in the bathroom for you,” Gio said while unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. “Try and make yourself look good.”

Could I throat punch him? Cause I really wanted to throat punch him.

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