Page 37 of Bought By the Mafia

“Simona.”

“Did I lie?”

“I want us…” We had been fighting for so long I didn’t even know how we could be amicable to each other. I had to tread carefully. It was going to be difficult for her to believe that this was real. “I want us to be amicable.”

She smirked.

“It’s the truth.”

“Why is it I find it hard to believe you?” She titled her head to the side. There was a spark in her eye that showed she was at least willing to hear me out. It made me press on.

“You’re right. You have no right to believe anything I say, but aren’t you tired? I know I am.”

She leaned back in her chair and looked as if she was assessing me to see if I was telling the truth. I could hear the gears in her head turning, wondering if this was some sort of play. “Did your ex put you to this? Was it her suggestion?”

“Allison has no idea what our relationship is like. And it’s not like she was here long enough. She left soon after you did.”

Simona shifted in her chair. She glanced down at the food as if for the first time and placed some risotto on her plate. “So you didn’t fuck her while I was gone?” she said in a low voice.

“I would never fuck anyone who’s not you here.”

“Really? Even after we divorce?”

“If that’s what you want, you can put it in the settlement.”

“Okay. What’s the play here?” she said. “Is there some new contract I’m not aware of? Did my father contact you?”

“No.”

Her eyes narrowed, assessing me again for what felt like the nth time. Finally, she said, “You’re right. I’m tired of us fighting. I’ll agree to your terms of the truce under one condition.”

“Which is?” I was nervous. What if she had played me instead?

“You come to my store opening.”

“That’s it?”

“I know it’s not on the scale of some of the things you get to do, but it’s important to me. My employees were surprised to see you when you came in last time. Most of them probably thought I wasn’t married.”

“So you want to use me as what, arm candy to your friends?”

“Would it be so bad if the shoe is on the other foot this time?”

“Fine. You’ve attended my stuff. It’s only fitting that I come to yours.”

“Great. So how do we sign the truce? With a kiss?”

“If you prefer.” I knew she was being sarcastic, but my invitation was more honest.

“Let’s eat first,” she said. “I’m dying to know how good you are at cooking.” She took a forkful into her mouth. I watched her as she chewed and wondered why I was feeling anxious. It could not be because I wanted her approval.

“Better than I expected,” she said after a few chews.

“Great. Because that and an egg are the only things I can cook.”

Her laugher filled the night air. “Why risotto? I would have thought you’d have learned a simpler dish like boiling noodles.”

“I can do that as well. But I liked it so much when I was a kid, I would beg my mom to make it every day. One day she tired of my begging and taught me to cook.”

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