“This is...magical.” It was a dream come true. “How did you know?”
“Remember, I asked you once where you’d go on a special Valentine’s Day date?”
Gina pressed a finger to her lip. She remembered now. For a brief, shining moment, her fifteen-year-old self had thought that was a prelude to Vincente asking her out. Of course, he hadn’t, as that would have been creepy, a twenty-one-year-old asking out a fifteen-year-old. He’d just been curious, trying to engage her in conversation, as he did. That he’d remembered after nine years and had made her idea come to life...now that was wonderful. “Yes, and thank you. I love it.”
“Cam’s the magic-maker.”
“I can’t disagree.”
“I could tell you’re happy to see her again. I like seeing you happy.”
This was better than she’d ever imagined. And when a waitperson appeared and set dishes of pasta primavera in front of them and Vincente poured out grapefruit sodas, her thought was doubly confirmed.
“What makes you happy?” she asked between bites of the delectable dish.
“Seeing loved ones happy, knowing I did good work on a building, doing a shift at the food bank, watching the sunset over the bay, swimming off the beach at our house in Italy or Carmel...lots of other little, everyday things.”
“The everyday miracles.” This was what Grandma had tried to tell her about. Life itself, a miracle, and the small joys and pleasures that were all too easy to take for granted.
“Yes. I... It would make me happy to see you enjoying those places, with me.”
“Now who’s moving fast?” She touched his hand. “Or maybe this has been years in the making?” Her heart skittered as the silence lengthened.
He sipped his soda and she savored her pasta, praying she could surrender to whatever was meant to be.
“I like that. Reminds me that God’s time is always in our favor, even when we can’t see it. You challenge me, Gina.”
“Do I?”
“It’s a good thing. I get set in my ways.”
“We all do, I think, in our own ways. I have a confession.” She paused as the waitperson reappeared, removing their empty pasta dishes and leaving arugula salads in their place. Taking a bite of the peppery greens, she let in space to consider what she wanted to say.
Vincente nodded. “I do too.”
“You first.”
“You probably already figured this out, but I asked Cam for help, and what your favorite dessert is. I don’t usually talk about others without their permission, but I wanted to surprise you.”
“I do like a good surprise, and this one is better than good.” His slight, pleased grin gave her a pleasant glow, her own inner goodness stoked, as she’d imagined Vincente doing to a fire while they snuggled together.
“What’s yours?”
She let out a breath. She could do this. Her re-found faith grounded her. “I had a crush on you in high school. So when someone sent me money and dresses for the charity ball, I took it as a chance to see if I still liked you. Part of me hoped you weren’t as great as I’d built you up to be.”
“Wow.” He set down his napkin, glancing at the heart-twinkle-lights filled window.
Her back tensed. “Was that a pleased ‘wow’ or a ‘that’s weird and I don’t like it’?”
He scooted his chair close to hers. She faced him. Taking her hands in his, he kissed them. The tension loosened, leaving her limp and anticipatory.
“That was an ‘I’m surprised and honored’ wow.” He caressed her cheek, his finger tracing a path to her lips. “Am I great enough to kiss you?”
She nodded, unable to get out words. And she didn’t need them as he brushed his lips across hers then pressed firmly. She matched his touch, every quirk of their lips and tilt of their heads bringing them closer, creating a miraculous space between them, for them to inhabit. She wrapped her arms around him and he pulled her to him, his strong hands clasping her waist. Sighing into him, she leaned back to meet his gaze. Still, words failed her.
“Do we even need dessert?” he asked with laughter and awe in his tone.
She could relate. “If it’s tiramisu, then yes.”
“It is.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder. The waitperson brought out the delicate-looking cake and Gina and Vincente ate it together. Decaf coffee waited, and she sipped hers after Vincente made her a cup just the way she liked.
“Gina, I know you don’t want to talk about your family, but it’s the elephant in the room. We both know your dad won’t want us together. I want to do whatever I can to convince him, if you’re okay with that?”
She blinked away happy tears. “Yes. I know it’s old-fashioned, but I’d like his blessing. If he keeps being this stubborn... Though he did apologize for the past, which is more than I’d believed possible.” She kissed Vincente’s cheek. “I want to see where we’re going.”
“I want that, more than anything.” He tilted her chin up and claimed her for another kiss. “And I want you to take whatever flowers you want. Then I’m guessing we need to get you back? Would you like to go out with me again on Saturday, after the party?”
“Yes.” She stood, keeping her hand in his as they wandered the space, marveling at the tiny details in each display. She chose the fairy garden, to remind her of this magical night, the first of many she hoped to spend with Vincente.
“I hope Cam is charging what her work is worth.”
He grinned. “She is, and I added bonuses. You’re both worth that and more. How about I deliver this to your place tomorrow morning?”
“Can you make it early evening? I want to talk to my parents first. Not even sure Dad will be willing to come to Grandma and Enzo’s engagement party, much less welcome you.”
He hugged her to his side and kissed her forehead. “Evening it is.”
She returned his touch. Tonight was miraculous, and with Vincente by her side, the lightness of more grace infused Gina’s limbs with a fizzy tingling. It was good to be home.
Chapter Eleven
Vincente stepped to the back door of North Beach Bakery, where Gina had told him Frank would be. When Vincente had dropped off her mini garden a while ago, she’d been visibly upset. He still felt the pressure of her softness against him as he’d held her, assuring her they’d find a way to convince her dad to accept Enzo and Celeste, and them as well. Or they’d keep trying, and praying, together.
Frank was hauling boxes into a storage room just inside the door. The evening sun set, sending fiery colors across the sky, reminding him of Gina. Not that he needed more reminders of her. She seemed to be with him all the time, a welcome presence. He was ready to have her manifested as a reality in his life.
“Good evening, Frank,” he said. “I’d like to talk for a few minutes.”
“I’m working.” Frank’s muscles flexed as he lifted. He and his brother Carlo had been champion wrestlers in high school and both remained stocky and strong.
Vincente walked in and picked up a box, following Frank. They both set the boxes in the room. Vincente stepped out.
“I don’t need your help. Or your family’s.” Frank stood in the doorway of the storage room, standing defensively, as if he had precious cargo in there.
“I know you don’t. But I need yours.” Vincente’s shoulders tensed up, his posture rigid.
Frank huffed a breath. “Yeah, I know you, the family ballast, come to get stubborn Frank to accept this marriage, to accept your family. No.”
“The past is gone, Frank. I admit my family hasn’t always behaved ethically. We’ve been forgiven, and we’re all trying to use our privilege for the greater good.”
“My mom and Gina think so. They’re blinded by their feelings.”
His shoulders eased, his stance loosening. Gina must have told her dad she cared about him. His shimmer of hope brightened. “Do you give them so little credit?”
Frank opened his mouth then shut it. He crossed his arms.
“All I’m asking for is a chance. Come to the engagement party. Give my family a chance. Give your mom’s happiness a chance. Give me a chance with your daughter.”
“So, that’s what this is about? You want to get with Gina by playing the gentleman?”
“I’m not playing. I know she’s dated some men who didn’t treat her right—”
Frank snorted. “None of those louses ever bothered to meet her family or treat her with respect.”
“I’m not like that. I know how important her family is to her. And you know it’s important to me. We’ve all made mistakes. I’m asking for a chance.”
Frank studied him for a moment. His gaze wasn’t as steely as usual. “You know where the door is.” He turned back to his work.
“Hope to see you tomorrow.” He stood for a few minutes, waiting to see if Frank would respond. Silence. But it wasn’t a “no.”
VINCENTE WALKED INTO the kitchen at home for an apple. Marcella was deep in finishing the food for the party that started in an hour. She tended to go overboard in her food preparation.
“Signore say to meet him outside.” She brushed back her curly greying hair from her forehead.
“Grazie.” Vincente’s brows tugged together. This was odd, though occasionally Grandpop liked to admire the spectacular view from their backyard. He should do it more himself. Gina would love to see it. His limbs lightened. He’d be seeing her soon.
He walked out and into the main hall. He passed the closed doors of the study, the library, and the downstairs guest suite, until he reached the door leading into the yard. He stepped onto the terrace. The first blush of sunset blazed above the shimmering bay. He walked downstairs, passed the low hedges and walked across the grass. But it wasn’t Grandpop who stood at the carved baluster—it was Gina.
She turned as he approached. Her silky hair caressed her cheeks, the strands teased by the evening breeze. The same breeze blew her scent to him—ocean, citrus, pure joy. She wore a confection of a red dress. As she shifted her position, her curves jiggled. He tensed his legs to keep his attention away from her physical appeal.
“Grandpop said to tell you he’s going to Carmel after the party.” Her sultry half-smile brightened her beauty.
His mouth opened. She was beautiful. “Can I get you anything?” Like an engagement ring... He shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself. Still, with Gina by his side, a little recklessness could be exactly what he needed.
“I’d like to talk.”
He nodded and guided her to the outdoor sofa that overlooked the bay view. She slid onto the loveseat. He sat next to her. Facing him, she tucked her legs to the side.
“I’ve been wrong.”
He swallowed and waited for her to continue.
“When I left for college, I wanted to get away. I didn’t ever want to come back. I’d already forgotten the lessons my family had taught me, what I’d believed in—trust, faith...my Grandpa Frank’s legacy, and Grandma’s life. I was bitter about my dad and how my family seemed to splinter just when I was a confused teenager, making the wrong choices.”
Vincente grabbed her hand. It was warm and smooth. He’d forgotten some of his truth too, until Gina’d slammed into his life, and his heart. His certainty grew.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes.” She fingered his knuckles then pulled her hand away.
Her touch flowed through him, a healing balm. “Me too. I don’t care—it all brought you here, to me.”
“I believe that too, about my life, my mistakes. Now I believe, partly thanks to your words. But, my family, how I am. Are you sure? This might not be easy. We’re different, and my dad...” She shook her head.
He took her hand again. “Gina, give me, us, a chance. I know you’ve been hurt. But you showed me that a little recklessness can make dreams come true. I believe we complement each other, and I believe it will all be okay, God willing.”
Gina leaned forward and kissed him, quick and firm. He ran his hand through her hair. It fanned over his hand as she pulled back.
“You’re a good man, Vincente Bianchi.”
“Glad you think so.” He smiled. They’d both realized the truth about each other—Gina saw him for the man he was, not who she’d assumed he’d be. And he knew Gina as a spontaneous, smart, caring woman who made him happier.
“I know so.” She pushed his shoulder with a playful grin.
“What’d I tell you about that?” He forced himself to put on a serious expression.
She licked her lips then glanced at their hands, still pressed together. When she met his gaze again, her smile had softened, tender. He touched her cheek. His chest expanded. He kissed her, her warm cheeks, her full lips. She sighed, content, as he enfolded her in his arms.
He needed to tell her everything. “I want you to know I’ve made mistakes too. In my first marriage, in my life. After my parents died, Grandpop and Grandma took me in. I’ve hurt people with my distancing.”
Gina sat up and looked at him. “You have awareness, and you’ve changed. So have I. I care about you, no matter what, because I know you’re a good man. And you help me to be the woman I want to be.”
His shoulders relaxed. He gazed at Gina. They studied each other. He kissed her again. Soon, her lightness filled him. They broke their embrace, both smiling. “What about your job at North Beach Bakery? What’s happening?” He sounded clueless. Wasn’t far off target.
“North Beach Bakery isn’t a job. It’s a legacy. We’ll see what happens. Cam’s mom and I are working on some ideas. She was one of my first small business mentors, aside from Mom. I feel now, in my heart, that I want to accept help. Working together makes us stronger. Whatever happens, it’ll be okay. Like you said.”
“You’re amazing.” He tangled her hair in his fingers, pulling her closer.
“You bring out the best in me.” Her tone was mischievous.
He grabbed her hands, pulling her up with him, and held her close. “The best is yet to come.”
She gazed at him. “And won’t it be fine.”
He swept her into his arms. She leaned into him. Together, they’d found a way to each other, to open Gina’s heart, as she had his. The rest would follow. He clasped her hand and together, they stood, watching the shimmering skyline of the city that was home.
Chapter Twelve
She wrapped her arm around his back. They walked into the house. Gina cuddled her head into Vincente’s shoulder. Her heart had burst with happiness. Instead of overwhelming her, it expanded her, and the possibilities. More cozy time with Vincente was among them. Too soon, the party was on. Vincente’s grandpop swaggered in, greeting them with a smile.
“Amore is in the air, eh?”
“Yes, Grandpop.” Vincente squeezed her hand. “Do you know anything about Gina’s ball night benefactor?”
Gina glanced between them. Surely not... Though it had been Vittorio—or Grandpop, as he’d asked her to call him—who had phoned asking her over here this evening. But no one had known how she felt about Vincente except Cam, and she wouldn’t have said anything. And who would’ve known her correct sizes for the dresses and shoes? She wasn’t an easy-to-buy-for size, either. Only Grandma, or Paolo, an old family friend, would know.
“I don’t reveal secrets,” the older man said. “Does it matter who it was, if you two are as happy as you look?”
Enzo, Uncle Carlo, Aunt Sophia, Joey, Sal, and Pete entered. Gina glanced over Pete’s shoulder, hoping for more arrivals. Gina’s family walked down the hall: Grandma, Mom, Michael, Frankie...and their dad. Vincente stepped forward. Her family was all together.
“Glad you could all be here.” Vincente glanced at Dad. Then he gazed at Gina.
Her limbs tingled with certainty and trust in what was present and what would be.
Grandpop moved out of the crowd. “Thank you all for being here. Before the rest of the guests arrive, my grandson has an announcement.”
He did? Gina glanced at Grandpop, whose
expression was a mixture of charm and command. Her gaze shifted to Vincente, who spoke, “Uncle Enzo and Celeste, congratulations.”
Enzo and Grandma stood together, beaming. Gina blinked away happy tears.
“This isn’t romantic.” Vincente met Gina’s gaze. “But I want to declare, in front of all of you, that I want a chance with this beautiful, caring woman. I hope, we hope, we’ll have your blessing, especially yours, Frank and Eva.”
Dad’s frown deepened and he shifted his feet. Mom held his arm.
Gina gazed at Vincente for a moment, giving him a nod. She stepped closer to him and took his hand. “I want that chance too.”
Most of the family whooped and cheered. Most hugged her or Vincente, crowding around them.
“Wait.” Dad’s voice cut the happy murmuring. His jaw flexed. He tried to turn, but Mom held one arm and Michael grabbed the other.
Gina leaned into Vincente. They faced her parents, Enzo and Grandma meeting them, a united front.
“Dad, please listen.” Gina gripped Vincente’s hand.
“I’m listening.”
“Vincente is the man I want in my life. You know him, and you should know me. I can be as stubborn as you. Can’t we all work together like Grandpa Frank would want, be a family again?”
Vincente stood taller and squeezed Gina’s hand. Together, they’d get through whatever came their way.
“LISTEN TO THEM,” GINA’S mom said.
“Dad, Vincente is a good man,” Michael said. “I’d trust him with my life.”
Vincente pulled Gina closer. He and Michael had worked together at the food bank, though they’d rarely talked. His endorsement meant a lot.
“My daughter, my family, mean more to me than my life.” Gina’s dad crossed his arms.
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