Page 89 of On Ice

“Make more, woman,” Mario booms. “I don’t want my guests to starve.”

“No, of course n… not,” stammers the woman. “It’s just that the lobster risotto arancini is very pricy, and I didn’t feel right serving more without asking you.”

“We need to keep the guests happy.” Mario winks at me. “We’ll talk more later, Luca. It seems I need to handle a food emergency.”

“Later then.” I smile.

Mario puts his big arm around the woman’s scrawny shoulders and he leads her away.

I notice that Evan has drained his glass of champagne already. The stress must really be getting to him. “You should eat something,” I say. “If you want to drink more.”

“Oh, I definitely want to drink more.” He sighs. “I’ve been trying to make eye contact with the waitstaff who are passing out the food, but so far no luck.”

I frown, eyeing a young woman with a tray of hors d’oeuvres a few feet away. I snap my fingers. “Miss, come here.”

She jumps at the sound of my voice and turns to face us. When she sees who it is calling to her, she hurries over, looking flustered. “Hello, Mr. Barone. W… would you care f… for some hors d’oeuvres?”

I peruse the platter, taking in the fresh oysters topped with shallots, and beef carpaccio with shaved parmigiano. She hands us cocktail napkins and Evan takes one of each appetizer. I only take one of the beef offerings because I’m not that hungry. I don’t show my nerves like Evan does, but I’m also on edge. In theory, I’m surrounded by some friends, but the truth is a lot of them are simply pretending to kiss the ring. I can’t truly let down my guard with most of them.

“It looks like Isabella has arrived,” Evan says, sounding pleased.

I glance over and see Isabella standing beside my mother at our family’s table. My mother looks elegant in silver gray silk, her hair swept up in a sophisticated bun. Isabella is charming in a flowy pink pastel dress, her dark hair loose around her slender shoulders. Tony’s dress jacket looks a little too tight on his big frame, but he’s laying the charm on thick with one of thebridesmaids. Tony may be a goof-up much of the time, but he has a way with the ladies.

I’m happy to see Marco is also seated at my family’s table. “Looks like Marco made it too. I was worried he wouldn’t.” I sound a little more enthusiastic than planned, but I truly am happy he made it to the wedding.

Evan smirks. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re experiencing what us humans call emotions.”

I frown. “Are you mocking me?”

He shrugs. “It’s just interesting to see you excited about something. Like a real boy.”

I slip my hand up his back, grabbing him by the scruff. “Evan, we’ve been getting along so nicely. Don’t spoil the mood.”

He winces at the squeeze of my hand on his neck, and he laughs. “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry.”

“That’s better.” I’m happy he doesn’t seem to mind my touch, and I enjoy the feel of his corded muscles beneath my fingers. It’s been way too long since I got to touch him. He’s in a good mood today, and I find it makes me happy. My stomach flutters with anticipation for later tonight. “Let’s join the family, shall we?”

“Sure” He lets me steer him toward my family’s table.

The minute Isabella sees him, she squeals, “Evan.” She moves to hug him, and he grins down at her. “Wow, you look great in that suit,” she gushes.

“Luca had it made for me.” He meets my gaze. “Overnight, if you can believe it.”

Isabella laughs. “Of course I can believe it. Luca gets what Luca wants.”

My mother smiles warmly at Evan. “Evan, come say hello.”

He obeys, moving to her. She offers her cheek for a kiss, and he obliges without hesitation. I knew my family had dined with Evan, but I hadn’t realized what a good impression he’d made on them. Isabella and Mother seem genuinely fond of him.

I also kiss my mother and she pats my cheek gently. “Hello, figlio mio.”

“Mama. You look beautiful as usual.”

She runs a slender hand over her hair. “It’s nice to get out of the house and dress up a little. Weddings are such beautiful occasions, don’t you think?”

I smirk. “So long as I’m not the one tying the knot, sure.”

She shakes her head. “Your generation is too self-centered. I fear I may never have grandchildren.”

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