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In the lobby, a well-dressed woman approaches and introduces herself as Ms. Loren, but she says, “Call me Gabriella and follow me, please.”

“I imagine you’ve done this a million times,” I jest.

“Actually, I’m rather new here, but don’t let that scare you. We plan to make this wedding the event of the year. I like to move around, see countries, partake in different cultures.” She flits around the room, running possible scenarios past Juliet. But given the number of guests she’s having; I think it’s only a question of where the DJ will set up.

“Everyone invited to the meet and greet are Dante’s friend’s,” Juliet explains. “The rest of the guests will be at the dinner only.”

I’m new to the family but even I know it’s more akin to a late afternoon soiree in which Dante can take care of family business and see the other business partners before they all get lubed with cocktails before the wedding while they conduct conversations that can’t be overheard. It’s the perfect cover for their line of work.

“Of course, no Italian worth their salt would go to a wedding without something.”

I find Gabriella’s comments bizarre but she’s a bit eclectic in her colorful designer dress that borders on gaudy. The way she moves her arms around, over gesturing, I can’t decide if it’s her, or is she . . . nervous?

“I love the colors you picked,” Juliet says. “My maid of honor loves her red dress, and the timing is perfect given it’s on the heels of Christmas.”

Gabriella says something in French but quickly changes it to Italian and acts like she didn’t make the blunder.

“Do you speak other languages?” I ask because I ignore less and question more, since Papa died.

“Oh, I know a few words here and there,” she waves her hand like it’s nothing. “I work in the service industry, it’s easy to get confused.”

But a moment of panic shows in her eyes. It was subtle, but I caught it.

“I think we should use mostly roses and some carnations, baby’s breath. I can make a nice arrangement for the bridal table and also a runner for the cake table,” I offer, in an effort to change the subject and ignore her strange behavior. The last place I want to be is on someone’s radar for anything other than cash bonuses and good tidings.

“That’s a great idea, I didn’t even think of that,” Juliet exclaims, squeezing my arm. “I’m so glad you are here, Prende.”

“Did I hear you say your name is Prende? How lovely, the Goddess of Love,” Gabriella says, attempting to show off her knowledge.

“Yes, yes, it is.” I give her a quizzical look.

“When I was younger and attending an exclusive boarding school in Switzerland, I studied almost every subject. What I didn’t learn in class, I learned from the girls in the dorms.”

I don’t know anyone who went to school in Switzerland, in fact, it seems more likely that children of diplomats would go there, but I could be wrong.

“Ah, here is my assistant and he’ll help you select your food and beverages. Call me if you need me,” she says and she throws a silk scarf around her neck as if she’s walking the runway at Fashion Week, when in fact she’s only leaving the room.

Hmm.

The assistant directs us to a table where we can sit and pick out appetizers, entrees, wine and desserts. So many decisions.

“You’re lucky Marchello helped you plan your wedding. Dante has too much to do and said whatever I choose is fine.”

“Well, the point is, it’s getting done,” I console her. “You two are great together, really.”

“Yeah, right? And to think we met when he kidnapped me.”

“What?” I almost fall off the chair.

“It wasn’t for ransom or anything like that. He just wanted to use me to get to my father, a father I didn’t even know. Just remember, when you meet my parents at the wedding, don’t say anything. See, I’m adopted, and they never told me, and a lot of people went to great lengths to keep me hidden from my father. His name was Gio Conti. You may have seen his name in the news.”

“Oh.” I think for a minute, I did hear some buzz about a big shot connected to the mafia perishing in a rooftop fire. “That was your dad?”

“Ah, ha. But it’s all good, I mean, Dante wasn’t going to hurt me, just needed me for leverage.” She shrugs.

“It seems neither of us really knew our fathers. Mine was in the ‘family,’ but I didn’t know it. And I lived with him!”

“I heard. Dante told me. He’s able to share some things with me, but not much. You know how that goes.” She puts her hand over mine and gives it a squeeze.


Tags: Zoe Beth Geller Micheli Mafia Romance