Page 155 of Rosetti Family New York
We do, but I don’t know where to start. Carmela makes it easy, filling in the gaps with easy questions. What have I been doing? How is the hotel? What is our new place like and when are we moving in?
“It’s a big old house,” I say. “It needs a lot of work, but we’ll make it home.”
She beams, and I realize she likes the sound of that as much as I do.
Eleanor’s beside me, opening a giant box with one hand and stroking her sleeping puppy with the other. It’s curly and tiny and far too adorable to belong to a Rosetti.
“Juliet is going to spoil him,” she says. “And speaking of siblings—” She raises her voice, making sure Dom can hear. “Are you going to let Paz visit the new house?”
Domenico lifts an eyebrow from across the room. “Not until that mutt is toilet trained.”
“Ooh, I’ll come too,” Carmela says, practically vibrating with excitement. “You won’t know I’m there.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Dom teases.
“Afraid? You? Thought nothing scared you.” Matteo. I can see him flipping a silver coin through his fingers.
“This one does,” Dom says, nodding toward me.
I’m drowning in questions, attention, and love. It’s wonderful and terrifying, but I feel an odd comfort in the chaos. I’m not used to this, and they know it, and somehow that makes it easier.
Juliet passes us a tray of small glasses, each one full of something strong and clear. Carmela downs hers with the same energy she does everything else, and the room fills with laughter as she scrunches her face.
“Don’t worry,” Eleanor tells me. “It’ll calm down. They can’t keep this up forever.”
“I heard that,” Leonardo says.
“And you’re wrong,” Rafe adds.
“They are all wrong,” says a tiny voice, accented and commanding. “They can do this all damn day. Especially if there’s drinking involved.”
A tiny, elegant woman in a bright red dress joins us. I know immediately who she is, though this is the first time I’ve seen her.
“You must be Nanna Toni,” I say.
“And you must be the one who caused all that trouble.” She smiles, a wide and wicked grin. “Good for you.”
She’s less than five feet tall, but she’s as intimidating as Salvatore, and the two of them watch the room like it’s their own private show.
Nanna Toni lets out a laugh that would make a sailor blush, and I hear her mutter something about finding a drink. Carmela leaps up to find her grandmother a beverage, and I lean back against the soft cushions, losing myself in the whirl of wrapping paper and ribbons and voices.
A world I never imagined. A world where holidays mean more than new deals or successful takeovers. They mean something.
“Besa!” Carmela calls from the dining room. She’s already clearing space at a long, crowded table. “You’re sitting next to me!”
Everyone takes their places. The table is filled, and so are the chairs, the benches, and the plates. It’s madness, and I find myself grinning as I take it all in. This is Christmas. This is family.
The energy of the room is like nothing I’ve experienced. Bright and noisy and warm, full of more food than I’ve ever seen. Carmela is in constant motion, rushing between the kitchen and the dining room with giant trays since the staff are all on leave. She’s trailed by laughter and the smells of garlic and wine. The boys are too busy arguing about whose gift will be the most embarrassing. It’s a toss-up between Matteo and Leo.
Nanna Toni takes her place at the table’s head. “Where’s my drink?”
Rafe raises his glass. “Be grateful you have plates.”
Gianna shakes her head. “See? Spoiled.”
“Spoiled?” Matteo makes a show of shock. “How can we be spoiled when we had to set the table?”
“And you didn’t even do that right.” This from Emilio, who isn’t paying attention to anything but the screen of his phone.
