Dario scowled at her but he didn’t reprimand her as Brielle knew he would her had she pointed out he wasn’t eating something in front of others. Probably because Francesca exuded genuine concern that he might not like the recipe and she was willing to change it just for him. There was something about her that made others, Brielle included, want to protect her and please her at the same time. Not to mention Stefano might leap up and kill anyone who dared to swear at his wife. Brielle couldn’t imagine even Dario crossing that line.
“I love the pasta and wanted seconds, Francesca. And I had quite a bit of the salad. Saw Brielle making that dessert so I was saving room.”
Francesca smiled at him. “That makes sense. I just don’t want to serve anything you don’t care for.”
Brielle waited until Dario looked at her and then she rolled her eyes. Emmanuelle did the same. Both women knew he didn’t eat that many vegetables. Emmanuelle because she cooked for him and Brielle because Elie had told her Dario was difficult when it came to food. He gave no indication that he noticed the two of them.
“Stefano, were you aware that Dario owns and operates a lavender farm?” Emmanuelle asked. “He totally runs it. Isn’t that cool? That’s why he always smells so good.”
It was a taunt, pure and simple. Dario flicked his poisonous, vengeful gaze at her, but she appeared completely unfazed. At the very least, Brielle would have moved closer to Elie.
Elie spun pasta on his fork and took a bite. “He does, that’s true. He found the best piece of property on the lake and snapped it up. I wish I’d found it.”
“Had I known the owners were going to put it up for sale, I would have made a try for it,” Val added. “It’s a huge piece of land. Twenty acres if I remember correctly. I really covet that piece of property. The house is fantastic. You have quite a bit going on there, right, Dario?”
Brielle knew that was the men closing ranks, taking the focus off the lavender farm and putting it on the property.
“Main house has over five thousand square feet,” Dario said. “Gives me plenty of room to roam around in. Couple of custom fieldstone fireplaces. The kitchen is a work of art for any cook. I would have bought it for the kitchen alone.”
“Dario, do you cook?” Sasha asked.
“No, but I’m always holding out hope that there’s a woman out there who cooks better than Emme. If that happens, I’m kidnapping her and tying her to the stove.” He took another bite of the pasta. “Although it has occurred to me to kidnap Taviano. This is damn good sauce, Taviano.”
“Damn good,” Crispino repeated like a parrot.
Francesca’s head turned sharply to look at her husband. He gave a little shake of his head. “Bambina. No reaction, remember? You were the one who cautioned me.”
“I think I was wrong. Isn’t it funny how he mimics all the bad words and not the good ones?”
Stefano laid his hand over hers. “It does feel that way at times, doesn’t it? We’ll all try to do better with our language in front of him.”
Around the table, the others solemnly nodded. Brielle loved that the family were in agreement for her. Giovanni sat back in his chair, pushing his plate toward the center of the table. Sasha did the same. She reached out and Giovanni took her hand. The sudden silence cued Brielle that the Ferraros realized the couple had something to tell them.
“I wanted to thank everyone, especially you, Francesca, for the kindness you showed to me when I lost Sandlin. I was so lost and you were giving birth under difficult circumstances, and you still reached out to me and were so loving and supportive. Thank you. All of you.” She took a breath. “I know that was two months ago. I just couldn’t talk about him until now. I miss my brother every single day. I had far more time with him than I ever expected to have. After the accident that caused his brain injury, the doctors told me he would only have a couple of months to live, but I had longer, and he got so he knew me. Maybe not as his younger sister, but he knew me. All of you helped so much to give him a better life. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You’re family, Sasha,” Stefano said. “Sandlin was our family.”
The way Stefano made the statement with such authority in his quiet voice gave Brielle goose bumps. He made her a believer. Elie sounded like that. Suddenly, she realized he would speak with that same authority to their children and anyone they took into their family. She also realized she believed in him the way everyone sitting around the table believed in Stefano.
“Thank you for always treating us that way,” Sasha said simply.
“Sasha and I have a little announcement,” Giovanni said, threading his fingers through his wife’s. “We waited to make certain she carried through the first trimester. Sasha and I are going to have a baby. We’re pretty excited that Crispino and Luciana Cella are going to have a cousin nearly the same age.”
Smiles broke out around the table. Stefano and Ricco produced two very rare bottles of wine and sparkling grape drink for toasts. Brielle caught Grace looking down at her hands with a sad expression, but she recovered quickly and was beaming with joy for Sasha and Giovanni. Stefano, as head of the family, was the first to formally stand up and give the toast, followed by everyone around the table. Even Brielle was expected to say something. She did so, managing to wish the couple a healthy, happy baby.
Brielle was surprised when the men cleared the table, rinsing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher rather than having the women do all the cleaning. Stefano was the first one up. Elie and Valentino began to serve the dessert to everyone and eventually Vittorio and Taviano helped. Nicoletta jumped up and grabbed extra whipped cream. The others laughed at her. She just laughed with them.
“You put that on everything,” Ricco accused her.
“She does,” Taviano said solemnly.
Everyone groaned. Nicoletta turned a shade of red and ignored them. It didn’t stop her from swirling quite a lot of whipped cream on the apricot soufflé. She took a bite and moaned. “This is so good, Taviano. This is really good.”
He leaned over and licked whipped cream from the corner of her mouth. “I took one of the peach ones so you could try both. If you insist on moaning like that, we’re taking them home.”
Another round of laughter and Nicoletta’s blush deepened, but she took a bite of Taviano’s soufflé and moaned again, causing him to kiss her with whipped cream still on her lips.
Brielle was waiting for Francesca’s verdict. She hadn’t had much time to come up with anything wonderful. Emmanuelle hadn’t weighed in yet. Some people didn’t like peaches or apricots. She’d made both just in case.