“We’ll see about that.” Did he really believe that? Was he that jaded? Or was it grief over losing his wife?
“I guess we will.”
She pressed her lips firmly together. She’d been in Rome less than an hour. It wouldn’t do to wage war with Lizzie’s future brother-in-law.
Jules inhaled a deep, calming breath and noticed the very fine automobile had a wonderful new car scent. Her gaze strayed to the dash, where Stefano’s long, lean fingers were adjusting the controls on a large touch screen. Soon the velvet sounds of an Italian baritone replaced the oppressive silence.
She leaned her head back and turned to the window. She took in the golden glow of the sun over the city. People were out and about—neighbors filling each other in on the events of the day. Children were running around laughing and playing. Jules smiled, liking what she’d seen so far.
She couldn’t believe that she was truly in Italy. Her friends back at the New York City coffee shop where she worked were never going to believe this. She’d definitely have to get lots of photos before catching her flight in a week.
When the car pulled to a stop, Stefano turned to her. “We’re here.”
So this was Ristorante Massimo.
Jules stared out the window at the line of patio tables with red umbrellas. And the double red doors with large brass handles that led to the dining area. This was where her sister had lost her heart—this was where Lizzie intended to spend the rest of her life.
The breath caught in Jules’s throat. She might at last be gaining her freedom, but at what cost? She blinked repeatedly. She’d told herself the whole flight here that she wouldn’t melt into a sobbing mess.
A hand pressed against her shoulder. “Julianne...um, Jules, are you okay?”
She nodded and blinked, tucking her emotions into that trusty box she’d been using since the days of being shuttled in and out of foster homes. She swallowed down the lump in her throat, hoping that when she spoke her voice wouldn’t waver. “I’m fine.”
“Why don’t you go inside? I’m sure Lizzie is anxious to see you. I’ll grab your luggage and meet you in there.”
She agreed and made her way inside. The restaurant was quite large, and a wall of photos was the first thing to grab her attention. There were framed photos of various sizes and all manner of frames starting at the ceiling and trailing down to the floor. As she passed by, she noticed some famous faces. Wow! This place must be really upscale.
“Jules, is that you?” Lizzie came rushing toward her.
In no time, they were wrapped in each other’s arms. It felt so good to be with her sister again. They both started to talk at once. It wasn’t until they glanced around and saw Dante and Stefano observing them with amusement dancing in their eyes that both women realized their lack of manners.
Lizzie stepped in the middle of everyone. “Jules, I’d like you to meet Dante, my future husband. Dante, this is my sister, Julianne, but everyone calls her Jules.”
“Hello, Jules.”
“Hi.” When she went to hold her hand out to him to shake, he pulled her forward and gave her a big hug.
She hesitated at first. This wasn’t the sort of greeting she was accustomed to. It certainly wasn’t the sort of greeting she’d received from Stefano. When Dante let her go, she gazed up at him. He was almost as tall as Stefano. But he wasn’t nearly as disarmingly handsome as his older brother.
“Don’t frown at me,” Dante said lightly. “We’re family and you’ll soon find that the DeFiores are huggers.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
From what Lizzie had told her most of the family lived outside the city on a vineyard. Too bad there wouldn’t be time to visit, but Jules didn’t want to overstay her welcome or crowd the lovebirds. Her mission was to check out the groom, catch up with Lizzie and get wedding details—lots of details. It was never too soon to plan the perfect wedding, and Lizzie deserved no less.
“Let’s go upstairs and get you settled.” Lizzie started for the front door of the restaurant.
“Where exactly are we going?” Jules asked, looking around and trying to get her bearings.
Dante spoke up. “There are apartments above the restaurant. And the entrance is outside.”
“Sounds good. We can get started right away on the wedding plans. We don’t have time to waste.” Jules grabbed for her purse. Before she could reach for her carry-on, Stefano had it in hand. She turned back and followed Lizzie out the door. “Do you have a date picked out? Say, next spring? Or summer?”
“That’s what we wanted to talk to you about.” There was hesitation in Lizzie’s voice.
Jules’s hand gripped the strap of her purse tighter. She sensed trouble. Were they calling the wedding off? They didn’t seem to be fighting or anything. So what was the matter?
“Lizzie, at least let your sister get settled in before you get into it.” Dante maneuvered her suitcase in through a side door and over to a waiting elevator.
“You’re right. My head is just spinning at the moment.” Lizzie turned to Jules. “Wait until you see the penthouse. It’s amazing. I think our entire apartment would fit in the guest room alone.”
Jules watched as Lizzie leaned over and placed a kiss on Dante’s lips. A look came over her sister’s face—a look of utter happiness and love. Suddenly the impact of what was about to happen struck Jules. The thought made her stomach plummet. How had she missed this before?
First, there’d been the eviction notice. Their New York apartment building was converting to expensive condos. That shock had been closely followed by the panicked search for affordable housing combined with trying to find a way to tell Lizzie that she’d had a change of heart about her future. All in all, she’d been pretty caught up in the drama that was her life.
But even with all of that, she couldn’t hide from this piece of reality forever. The backs of her eyes stung, and she blinked repeatedly. The life she’d always known—Lizzie and Jules joined at the hip—was over.
She was now alone in this great big world.
* * *
The smiles.
The I-love-you looks.
The kisses.
Stefano couldn’t wait to bolt for the door. His younger brother certainly had it bad for Lizzie. Whatever was going on with the wedding, they certainly weren’t about to call it off. Maybe they’d already eloped. Stefano ground his teeth together. The thought of his brother doing something so impulsive—so reckless—had Stefano’s whole body tensing up.
He knew what it was to love and lose. He knew the pain...and the guilt that ate at him. He didn’t want Dante to end up like him or their widowed father. DeFiore men inevitably ended up alone—one way or the other. Dante knew all of this; he just chose to ignore it. Avoidance, it was a DeFiore trait. So was stubbornness. And he couldn’t forget to toss in a driving need for independence.
“What has you so quiet this evening, big brother?” Dante clapped him on the back.
“I have a lot on my mind.”
“Really? Do tell?” Dante moved through the open floor plan from the ultramodern black-and-white living room to the stainless steel galley kitchen.
“Nothing you’d be interested in hearing.”
“Aka it’s vineyard business.” Dante pulled open the fridge and perused the contents. “Want something to drink? Looks like Lizzie stocked up on everything for her sister’s arrival.”
“I’m