The Marriage Clause

by Alexx Andria

  I knew her weaknesses.

  “It’s impossible to get a private tour on such short notice,” she said, calling my bluff.

  “For a Donato, nothing is impossible,” I reminded her with a shrug. “Our tour is scheduled for this afternoon, which means we need to get moving if we want to make it to Geyersville on time.”

  “I know what you’re doing,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “And it’s not going to work.”

  I was a bastard and probably going to hell, but it would be worth it. I tried to make the decision easier for her. “How about a compromise?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Helping others is the main goal when you volunteer, but there are other ways to help... Would it ease your conscience if I wrote a fat check to the shelter of your choice so that we could go enjoy our day without the guilt?”

  “You can’t just toss out money everywhere you go to solve your problems,” she said with a scowl, my plan backfiring. “Coppola will just have to wait. We are going to the soup kitchen.”

  The firm set of her jaw told me she would rather cut off her nose to spite her face than admit she’d much rather spend the day in Geyersville. I silently swore at her damn stubborn nature, but a deal was a deal.

  I sighed. “I’ll make some calls. Coppola will be disappointed. There aren’t many filmmakers who are willing to personally give the tour, but I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  Katherine’s jaw dropped a little, but she didn’t take it back, even though it was killing her. “Francis Ford Coppola was going to give the tour?” she asked, wincing. “Are you kidding me?”

  “No, but it was a onetime deal. He’s a busy guy, as you can imagine. Anyway, I’m going to shower and then we can be off.”

  I smothered the chuckle bubbling to the surface and left her to think about what she’d just sacrificed for her stubborn pride.

  Soup kitchen, here we come.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Katherine

  WITHOUT REALIZING IT, Luca had made my point. He was much more willing to throw money at something than experience it himself if the situation didn’t align with his personal comfort. There was no growth or learning curve in cheating the experience like that. I didn’t want my children to learn that lesson, either.

  But to be honest, I’d thrown out the soup kitchen idea believing that Luca would refuse. Charity I was familiar with—I’d been to more charity balls and benefits than I could count. Giving time had always seemed more genuine to me than giving money, but I’d never actually done it before. Why? I’d never been in a homeless shelter, just as I’d never actually slept in a hostel before the other night, either.

  And so far I was not all that enthused with what I’d discovered, which only made me feel like a spoiled diva—the one thing I was trying my damnedest not to be.

  When Luca reappeared, dressed and ready to roll, I averted my gaze when I felt the urge to stare with longing. The man could make anything look like the height of fashion, even jeans and a soft gray henley.

  My mouth dried as memories of that hot body jabbed at me. How could I be so addicted to his touch, even after all these years? It was as if no one had ever existed until Luca touched me. Total bullshit. Especially after last night had gone down in flames. I was above that moony girl stuff, and I would prove it by completely squashing those irritating tingles dancing in the pit of my stomach.

  “You ready?” I asked, grabbing my purse.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he answered with a grin that melted me just a little.

  Grateful that Luca didn’t feel compelled to talk about last night, I spun on my heel before he could start. “Let’s hit the road, then. Our ride is waiting.” It seemed highly inappropriate to arrive at a homeless shelter in a town car, so I’d ordered an Uber. Secretly, I was hoping that Luca was appalled, but he wasn’t. The damn man climbed into the modest sedan without blinking an eye. “You can still change your mind,” I told him. “It won’t hurt my feelings at all.”

  “I’m looking forward to experiencing an adventure with you,” he replied, and I nearly swallowed my tongue.

  “It will probably smell,” I said, trying to paint a picture that wouldn’t appeal to him. “And the people will probably smell, too.”

  “Probably.”

  “And that doesn’t bother you?”

  He shrugged. “Human beings without access to showers and basic hygiene products generally smell. I’d smell just as bad, if not worse, if I couldn’t shower and brush my teeth.” He cast a smile my way, adding, “Even you would stink. Humans are dirty creatures.”

  Who was this guy? I nodded but didn’t trust my voice, grateful when I didn’t have to find something to fill the silence, because we’d arrived.

  The building, covered in graffiti, was nothing to look at from the outside, but I’d read that this particular shelter was known for accepting anyone, even drug addicts and criminals, if they were in need and there was a bed available.

  Run by the sisters of the Immaculate Conception Nunnery, the shelter was bustling by the time we walked in. I’d already set up the volunteer hours with Sister Mary over the phone, so after being directed to her office, we found ourselves seated opposite a stout older woman with a rather stern countenance.

  I could totally imagine Sister Mary wielding a ruler to slap the knuckles of unruly children.

  “Welcome to our humble shelter,” Sister Mary said, her round face breaking into a brief smile. “We appreciate new volunteers.”

  “Happy to help,” I murmured, shooting a glance at Luca. Was he going to throw his checkbook at her, or would he go through with volunteering? I held my breath, waiting.

  “My fiancée is so kindhearted she insisted we spend some of our vacation helping those less fortunate,” Luca said. “I’ll admit it wasn’t my first choice, but now that I’m here, I’m looking forward to getting my hands dirty.”

  Sister Mary smiled with approval. “That’s a good man,” she said for my benefit, and I wanted to roll my eyes but didn’t. She produced some paperwork and slid it over to us. “I just need you to sign a few forms, acknowledging that you are choosing to volunteer and that you will not hold the Immaculate Conception Nunnery responsible for any injuries you may sustain while in service.”

  “Injuries?” I repeated with a confused frown. “What do you mean?”

  Sister Mary folded her hands and answered, “My dear, sometimes our guests are unstable. They can’t help themselves—they are unwell. We do our best to keep our volunteers safe, but sometimes a guest will become unruly and scuffles happen. But not to worry, we have security for those events and rarely does anything truly harmful occur. However—” she tapped the documents “—we all have to take precautions so we can continue our good work.”

  I nodded and signed my name, but maybe I’d bitten off more than I could chew. I looked to Luca, but he didn’t seem deterred in the least. In fact, he looked ready to get started. His strong, solid signature sealed the deal for the both of us, and I realized this was happening.

  I wrestled with the cowardly urge to back out. Nothing was working as I’d planned. Luca wasn’t playing his part as expected. Each time I thought I had him pegged, he spun around and did something completely out of character, challenging what I thought I knew, and that was beyond dangerous.

  I was already teetering on the edge of the cliff—a part of me had never stopped loving Luca—but I didn’t want to be roped into the Donato family lifestyle and obligations. I shuddered, hating the thought of Luca becoming anything like his father. If it weren’t for those undeniably strong Donato genes, I’d question whether or not Giovanni’s blood ran through Luca’s veins.

  Wouldn’t that be a kick in the pants for the old man if it turned out Luca was someone else’s kid? I smothered an inappropriate giggle. My nerves were jangled enough to show through
the mask I was hiding behind, and Luca could see I was struggling, plain as day.

  I didn’t know which was worse, realizing that I wasn’t as bohemian as I tried to be or that Luca could see right through me.

  I guess it didn’t matter. I was going to see this through, simply because I refused to let Luca have the last laugh.

  Accepting gloves and an apron with forced cheer, I followed Sister Mary into the dining hall, where the rest of the volunteers were already serving breakfast.

  But when I expected the nun to put us together, she sent Luca in one direction and me in another.

  I chewed my lip, watching as Luca went off with a smiling volunteer with big, bouncy red hair and even bouncier boobs, and I was delivered to a not-so-smiley nun with a pinched mouth and hard eyes.

  Within a heartbeat, I’d been sized up and found wanting, but another set of hands was still useful.

  “This is Sister Bernice,” Sister Mary said in quick introduction. “She’ll be your supervisor today. Sister Bernice, this is Katherine. Have a blessed day and thank you for your contribution.”

  And then Sister Mary left me with the battle-ax.

  “We’re kitchen detail,” Sister Bernice said flatly, turning and expecting me to follow, which I reluctantly did. We rounded the corner and entered a huge working kitchen, bustling with activity. Everywhere I looked, people were passing to and fro, hands filled with giant bowls of food, heading for the serving hall. I figured I was going to be cooking or chopping, something food related, but when Sister Bernice pointed to the stack of dishes crowding the oversize sink, I felt like Cinderella staring at an impossible workload, except I didn’t have any mice or birds to help me with the job.

  “I’m pretty good with cutting and chopping,” I offered helpfully. “I can chop with the best of them.”

  “We have all the choppers we need,” Bernice stated with a brief lift of her lips that might have passed for a smile in a different life. “We need someone to wash dishes.”

  “Of course. No problem.” I offered a wan smile and went to the monster sink and the mile-high dishes crusted with food. I slipped the rubber gloves on and grabbed the industrial-size nozzle to start rinsing.

  Each time I cleared a spot, another cartful of dishes appeared, until I couldn’t pretend to smile anymore, but I didn’t quit. Quitting would only prove that I was exactly the type of person I didn’t want to be. Maybe all this time I’d been playing the part of an independent woman, knowing full well that I could access my trust at any time. Just like Luca had accused.

  I used my forearm to wipe the sweat from my forehead before it dripped into my eye. It was cold as a witch’s tit outside, but in this kitchen, it was roasting.

  “You look thirsty,” a voice said. I turned and saw a young man offering a bottled water, which I gratefully accepted. “How’d you end up on dish duty? You give Sister Bernice attitude or something?”

  I chuckled, shaking my head. “I didn’t say two words to her before she sized me up and stuck me here.” I guzzled the water, out of breath by the last swallow. “Thanks,” I said, smiling. “My name’s Katherine. What’s yours?”

  “Bart,” he answered, extending his hand in welcome. “Let me guess...community service for...a drunken sorority prank?”

  I laughed. “No, I came because I thought it would—” make my fiancé run back to New York “—be fun.”

  “Are you having fun?” he asked, his brow rising. “Because you look miserable.”

  I started to protest, but I didn’t have the energy to lie. “I’m...totally miserable,” I admitted. “So why are you here?”

  “Community service. Drunken frat prank,” he answered with a wink. “Anyway, the sisters are always good for signing off on community service, so they have a pretty steady stream of volunteers to put to work.”

  “Spoken by a repeat offender?”

  Bart shrugged without commitment, but the impish grin said it all. “So, you’re not from here... Let me guess... East Coast? Maybe New York?”

  “Does my accent give me away?”

  “A little.” He made a pinching gesture with his fingers. “But it’s cute. I love girls with accents.”

  I laughed, shaking my head. Bart was definitely flirting, but when I realized that my first thought was I wished Luca could see a cute guy flirting with me, I knew I was officially a terrible person. “I’m here with my fiancé,” I said, letting Bart down gently. “He got lucky. Sister Mary sent him to the serving hall.”

  “Fiancé?” He groaned, covering his heart as if shot. “Just my luck. All right, whoever he is, he’s one lucky bastard.”

  Divulging the odd truth of my relationship with Luca would only serve to create more questions I couldn’t answer, so I just smiled and nodded in thanks.

  “Let me see your hands,” Bart said. When I simply stared quizzically, he laughed and repeated his request, adding, “I promise it’s nothing weird.” More curious than anything else, I removed my rubber gloves. Bart grasped my hands and turned them this way and that, finally revealing his reason. “Sister Bernice always puts the people with the softest hands in the kitchen, and the ones she thinks need the most humbling, she puts on dishes.”

  My mouth gaped. “Me? Why would I need humbling? It was my idea to volunteer.”

  “Let me tell you, Sister Bernice has the eyes of a hawk. She can see what others can’t.”

  The heat crept into my cheeks. I’d been judged? How was it possible that I’d failed the test while Luca had passed with flying colors? I rolled my shoulders to release the gathering tension. “Well, I can guarantee Luca’s hands are softer than mine,” I groused, but I knew that probably wasn’t true. Luca loved being active, and he wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.

  “New college grad?” Bart surmised with a knowing grin. Not as new as he thought, but a close guess. “You have that highly educated but ultimately useless look about you.” My pride pinched, I scowled in response, but Bart just laughed. “Hey, not judging, cutie, just making an observation. My older brother has that same look, and I have no doubt as soon as I graduate in the spring I’ll have that look, too. I think it comes with the degree. After this last shenanigan, my dad put his foot down, saying, It’s time to get serious, son,” he said, in a mockingly parental tone. “But, I don’t know, nothing really grabs me.”

  “Actually, I had a job with a high-powered marketing firm, Franklin and Dodd, but I quit to come to California. I’m thinking of a career change.”

  “Brave,” Bart said. “Your fiancé cool with that?”

  “It’s not his decision, it’s mine, but...yeah, I think he’s okay with it.” Luca didn’t care where I worked. He just wanted me to marry him. The quiet truth hit me hard. This trip hadn’t exactly turned out as I’d expected. It was a sobering thing to realize that the soapbox you were perched on was quickly breaking down. I’d spent a long time believing that I was unequivocally right about certain things, but Luca had me questioning what I thought I knew.

  Bart and I were fairly close in age, but unlike him, I didn’t suffer from a lack of ambition or drive. If anything, I had more than I could possibly put to good use, which was why the thought of becoming a society matron scraped at my last nerve. I didn’t want to be a useless piece of arm candy.

  “That your man coming toward us with a look like he wants to beat me with my own arm?” Bart asked with fake fright. “Jesus, he’s tall.”

  I hid the smile that immediately bloomed. Yes, Luca was delightfully tall and broad shouldered. And he did, indeed, look as if he might want to thrash Bart for flirting with me. A warm tickle danced in my belly. There was something undeniably sexy about the way Luca looked at me. Sometimes when his blue eyes fixed on mine, I felt as if he could see straight to my soul.

  I smothered the wistful sigh that threatened.

  None of that.

  �
�I came to ask if you’d like to sign on for another four-hour shift or if you’d like to go,” Luca said, shooting a cool look Bart’s way.

  Bart thrust his hand toward Luca. “Bart’s the name, and you, big guy, are one lucky son of a bitch for locking down this hottie.”

  My cheeks heated, but I laughed. To my surprise, Luca’s tension released and he accepted the hand offered. “Pleasure, Bart. And yes—” his gaze flitted to me with warmth “—I’m a lucky man.”

  Bart grinned and said, “Well, I’ve still got another four hours on my tab, so I’d better find Sister Mean Eyes and get my assignment. I’d say you two did your good deed for the day—go find something more interesting to do. I know what I’d be doing if she was my girl...” He sauntered off with a wink.

  My amused smile caused Luca to pull me into his arms, circling my waist possessively before I could stop him. “I can’t leave you alone for a second,” he murmured with a low growl, sending shivers down my back. His lips nibbled at the soft skin of my neck, and my knees threatened to buckle. “Stay or go?” he asked.

  “Go,” I answered breathlessly.

  Luca pulled away, his lips twitching with knowing, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to wash dishes anymore, and at the moment I didn’t care to examine my reasoning with a magnifying glass.

  “Good.” Luca grabbed my hand and led me from the hot, stifling kitchen to sign us out with Sister Mary. “You do good work here,” he told the nun as he handed her a business card. “Call my office on Monday for a proper donation.”

  “Bless you, Mr. Donato,” Sister Mary said. “Thank you for your service and donation.”

  Luca dipped his head in acknowledgment and we left the shelter, only this time Luca had called for the town car.

  As I settled into the plush back seat, a question nagged at me.

  Was I fighting out of spite, or was this a battle truly worth fighting?