The man isn’t entirely what I’ve come to expect of a Morelli. He’s handsome enough, I suppose, but not Sin or Rafe-level handsome. There’s a hard look to him—not the way Sin looks hard and mean, but cooler, more calculation in his gaze. His eyes are blue—another deviation. All of the Morelli men of my acquaintance have dark eyes. He doesn’t smile when he sees me. Instead, he appraises me like a new piece Rafe picked up. From the look on his face, I get the impression Gio thinks he overpaid.
When his mouth opens, he offers up a hollow, “Hey, how ya doin’?”
I look to his wife for more warmth, but her smile seems superficial, too.
I decide right away they don’t approve. Lydia’s gaze drops to my abdomen, and I think I know why. Since these are Rafe’s relatives and they don’t know me from Adam, they probably think I’m some conniving bitch who got knocked up on purpose to trap him.
Injecting a little more warmth into my tone to make up for their misread of the situation, I smile and say, “It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve only met Rafe’s Chicago family so far.”
Gio rolls his eyes, apparently unimpressed.
Leaning in to explain, Rafe says, “We haven’t been on good terms for very long. It’s gonna take a little longer for the rest of the Vegas family to warm up to them.”
“Oh. Right.” I remember Sin saying something about that, but it’s still disappointing. I like Rafe’s Chicago family far more than I like these two people so far, and these are the ones I’ll have to socialize with if I stay here.
Normally, Rafe urges me to scoot in, but tonight he slides in first and lets me sit on the end. Since I already feel like leaving, I appreciate at least feeling less trapped. If I need to slide out to go to the bathroom—or pretend to go to the bathroom, just to escape the present company—I can do so without a whole production.
Rafe and Gio talk for a couple minutes while Lydia smiles silently. I look around for a waiter. I wish I could have a drink tonight; that would probably make this more pleasant.
Since everyone is ignoring me anyway, I pull out my cell phone. Carly hasn’t texted or called me at all since this morning, and even though I can’t say much to her, it’s making me worry. Canceling my flight home today was too obvious. I’m sure I have aroused her suspicions at this point. I hope she isn’t trying to poke around on her own; she’ll probably get herself into trouble.
On a whim, I close that message and open the one below it—Mia Morelli. She gave me her number, telling me I needed a “mob wife” friend and to call or text her anytime. I told her I’m not a mob wife, but she just patted my hand like I don’t know what I’m talking about and started filling her suitcase with baby clothes to send home with me.
I type out, “MW update: not a hit with the Vegas Morelli family.”
It only takes her a minute to respond. “Lame! Vegas Morellis wouldn’t know a good addition to the family if one bit them in the face.” Before I can point out a good addition to the family probably wouldn’t be biting any faces, she sends another one. “How is Rafe treating you? Need me to kick his ass yet?”
Smiling faintly, I shake my head. “Rafe is good. He bought me books, so no complaints there. I’m trying to convince him to give all his money away to good causes.”
“I do that to Mateo ALL THE TIME,” she replies. “If he is to be believed (he’s not though) we are giving all our money away and should be living in a box right now.”
“That’s what they do all that work for, right?”
“Clearly,” she answers. “Why else?”
“Have you met their cousin Gio?” I ask her.
“I think I met him briefly at Ben’s funeral. Unless there are multiple Gios.”
“He doesn’t seem very nice,” I tell her. “His wife is looking at me like I have a lottery fetus in my womb. I don’t think we’re going to be besties anytime soon.”
“Whatever, screw them. For what it’s worth, I also hated the Vegas family members I met. Rafe is the only one I liked. Be glad you never had to meet Ben, he was a complete asshole.”
“That’s Vince’s dad, right?”
“Yeah. Vince never liked him either.”
I probably shouldn’t ask, but a glance over at Rafe tells me they’re still talking shop, so I snap up a sliver of unsupervised girl talk. “Did you meet Sin when you were here? He seemed to know who you were.”
“Did he work with Vince? Maybe he mentioned me. I never met a Sin when I was in Vegas, but it’s possible I met him here if he came for our wedding or Ben’s funeral. I don’t remember that name, but I might remember his face. Pic?”
“I doubt he came to your wedding, but he was at the funeral.”
I don’t know why, I just want to talk to someone else who knows him. He’s so much like a shadow, it’s like he doesn’t even exist. Like he isn’t even real.
Mia texts back, “Still thinking about him, huh?”
“I haven’t seen him yet, so that inevitability is on my mind.”