Heather seems to relax a bit from my words and we fall into an easy conversation. As we enjoy our breakfast, my curiosity gets the better of me, and I ask her about Emma’s father before I can stop the words spilling from my mouth.
She doesn’t seem affronted by my bluntness. The story she shares of how the only time she ever had sex and the boyfriend, who was less than honest about using protection, nearly breaks my heart.
I’d like to find the son of a bitch and cut off a vital body part, but I tamper down my anger as I reach across the table and place my hand over hers.
“It left me disillusioned and pregnant,” she says, wistfully, looking over at Emma whose shoving humongous bites of pancake into her mouth. Syrup drips from her chin. “But, I wouldn’t give up my baby girl for a thousand second chances.”
Moving to a happier note, she regales me with the story of how she got involved with the bookstore. I can’t help but crack up as she explains how she tripped over a display and sent books careening across every inch of the floor.
“Rachel was impressed by how well I restacked everything. She hired me on the spot.”
We’re both laughing when the little bells on the door jingle a chaotic tune, and my focus shifts that direction. A group of men fills the tiny alcove. It’s my father and several of his capos.
He stands for a moment, surveying the scene. When he’s satisfied with what he sees, he strides my direction. My heart sinks just a little, and I have the strongest urge to throw myself in between him and the two people that sit across from me.
There’s an heir of authority that surrounds my father, along with a don’t mess with me unless you’re trying to die, type of attitude. It’s a bit disconcerting, to say the least, and my eyes move back to Heather and Emma, knowing full well that I haven’t prepared them to meet him just yet.
I bristle as I realize that my brother has to be behind this. He must have told my father that I was serious about a girl. There’s no other reason for him to step foot in this restaurant.
My suspicions are confirmed the second he opens his mouth. “Who are you to be having a meal with my daughter?” He demands, staring down at Heather. She seems to grow smaller in her seat.
“Father, this is Heather and her daughter, Emma. Heather, this is my father, Salvatore Giovani,” I say, making sure he can tell by the tone in my voice that I’m not going to put up with any of his games.
He slides into the booth next to me, and I’m even more convinced that I’m right when he lets loose the third degree on Heather. Firing question after question at her, it feels as if all the air has been sucked from the room.
Heather’s uncertain gaze bounces between my father and myself, but she holds steady under his inquisition, answering every question honestly and confidently. Everything from her parents, to Emma, to her finances, to what she wants to do with life. Nothing is left untouched.
“You ask more questions than I do,” Emma’s tiny voice breaks through the onslaught.
My father halts mid-sentence and narrows his steely gaze on her. Then, he laughs. It’s loud and jovial, echoing through the room. My heart misses a beat. I don’t think I’ve ever heard my father laugh before.
“You will bring these two to Sunday dinner in two weeks.” It’s not a suggestion. Then, he gets up from the booth and leaves that restaurant, his slew of capos trailing behind him.
It takes a minute for my mind to completely process what just happened. I stare at the door in stunned silence, before Heather’s nervous giggle cuts through my shock. She passed. Holy shit! She passed, and with flying colors, too.
Nine
Heather
Wow! Just…wow! Rafaela’s dad must be super successful. He came in here with an entire entourage, for crying out loud. I don’t think he’s famous, or at least he’s not someone I’ve ever heard of before, but he’s obviously a pretty important guy.
A nervous giggle burst from between my lips. Rafaela’s gaze meets mine, and we both erupt into laughter. Emma joins in, although I’m fairly certain she doesn’t get what we’re laughing about.
“I think it’s safe to say that you passed the inquisition.” Rafaela lets out a breath as if she hadn’t been breathing the entire time her dad was sitting here. “He’s never ordered me to bring a friend to Sunday dinner before. Hell, I didn’t even believe he knew what laughing was until five minutes ago!”
I’m thrilled to have made a good impression on him. For a few minutes, I was almost certain he was getting ready to lunge across the table and eat me for breakfast. He was spitting questions at me so fast, I was having trouble keeping up and terrified I was going to sputter out the wrong thing.
For reasons I don’t want to put a voice to, just yet, it means a lot to me that Emma and I have his approval to be a part of Rafaela’s life. There’s something about her that pulls me in. I want to be with her, and I don’t think I would be able to stay away, even if we didn’t have his blessing.
Although, there’s also a little part of me that is just about positive he could make me disappear if he had the desire to do so. I’m not gonna lie, his bigger than life persona, is absolutely petrifying.
“So, what was it you were telling my father about your love for animals?” Rafaela asks.
“Oh, right. I’ve always had a passion for animals, especially hurt and injured ones. When I was little, I would pretend that I was a vet or an animal rescuer. Someday, I’d like to be able to work in an animal rescue,” I explain.
“What’s stopping you, now?” She wonders.
“It’s just a little hard, right now. I can’t afford to go to school to get into the industry, and I don’t have the time outside of work and Emma to put in the volunteer hours necessary. Maybe someday.” I can’t keep the longing from creeping into my voice.