Page 15 of Unrelenting
When I don’t introduce Olivia, my cousin rolls her eyes at me. She thrusts a hand toward Lucia, who’s too startled to do anything but take it.
“Hi, I’m Olivia Volante, Lorenzo’s cousin from New York.”
Lucia relaxes visibly and switches to flawless English. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Olivia. I’m Lucia. This is my restaurant.”
I remember reading in the dossier Damiano compiled on Lucia that she spent time in England. I must ask her about it when I get the chance.
“Your restaurant is lovely,” Olivia says. “And the food smells divine. Lorenzo has raved about it non-stop. Apparently, I won’t find a better steak in all of Italy.”
Lucia smiles, her delight obvious. Who knew diplomacy was one of Olivia’s skills?
“I hope you enjoy it.” Lucia flashes me a look that promises retribution for my not clarifying who Olivia is to me. I’d love tosee mygattinatry to make me sorry. As she spins on her heel and returns to the kitchen, my cousin tuts at me.
“Don’t play games with her staff and don’t play games with her, Lorenzo.”
“What?” I feign innocence.
“You knew the conclusion she would draw when she saw you with me.”
I help myself to a couple of slices of the perfectly cooked steak and then, as an afterthought, put some on Olivia’s plate as well.
“I told Angelina not to let her know I was here.”
“Right,” Olivia says skeptically, “and you really didn’t expect her to run straight to her boss to tell her you were here with a beautiful woman.”
I raise my glass to Olivia. “To my cousin, Olivia, who bears no false modesty.”
“Oh, shut up, Lorenzo.” She flips her hair over her shoulder. “I know men think I’m stunning, just like you know women cream their panties over your pretty face.” She shudders as she realises what she just said. “The point is, you brought me here to get a rise out of your girl, sorry, lady friend.”
Olivia is correct, of course. I did bring her here to stir things up with Lucia.
It was a childish thing to do, but I don’t regret it, not now I know Lucia isn’t as indifferent to me as she likes to pretend.
It’s not something I want to discuss with Olivia, though.
“Just eat your dinner.” I jab a fork toward her plate.
She pouts again, but does as she’s told, picking up her knife and fork and slicing off a piece of the steak. She puts it in her mouth and groans appreciatively.
“You’re right. It is good.”
“Glad you like it. Now, tell me why you’re so upset about Piotr Reznov being in town.”
She’s put me on the spot tonight, and now it’s her turn. Her reaction to Piotr showing up at Damiano’s house was to stomp around and yell for an hour, according to my brother.
I want to know what that was about. Though Piotr is my friend, I’ll still kick his ass if he’s done something to hurt Olivia.
Thankfully, as she talks about him, it becomes apparent that it’s his mere existence she’s angry about. It’s a case of the lady protesting too much.
The more she rants about him daring to come to Florence to propose marriage, the more convinced I am she secretly wants his attention.
In fact, by the time we’ve finished our meal. I already know I’m going to have to pick out a suit for their wedding. Fuck. I hate formalwear.
When Olivia goes to the bathroom, I pay the check and message Bruno to tell him he’ll be driving her back to Damiano’s tonight instead of taking Olivia home.
He replies to let me know he’s already in the parking lot out back. He’s obviously taking his duties seriously as the restaurant doesn’t close for another hour. I chose the right man for the job.
I revise that opinion less than a minute later when he walks into the dining room.
