The Honest Affair (Rose Gold Book 3)

by Nicole French

  Matthew’s grandmother glanced between us, her dark eyes flicking back and forth with the speed of a pinball. It was clear now where Matthew and his sisters got their penetrative green eyes from. He said he took after his grandfather and his father, but the heart of this family was in the woman sitting at the head of the table.

  And so, I tried again. “Mrs. Zola, I know it’s messy. I know my situation isn’t what you would have chosen for your grandson. We could have kept it a secret from you, just like we have to do with my family because I can’t trust them to be discreet. Not the way Matthew trusts you. But your grandson bleeds loyalty to this family. Nothing is truly real in his life if he can’t share it with you. That’s why we’re here. Out of respect and love for you and the other amazing women in this house.”

  “Nonna, we’re not here to ask your blessing,” Matthew added. “We’d like it, but if we have to, we’ll do without it.”

  “But, Matthew, how do you know she’s not just using you?” protested Lea, shutting up only when her grandmother held up her hand, her gold bracelets clinking as they fell down her wrist.

  Matthew shook his head with frustration. “You think Nina is trying to get everything she can from me, but what you don’t know is everything she’s done to make my life better. Don’t tell me you don’t remember who I was before we met. I was a lost man, Lea. I was wandering, angry. Spent most of my time knocking on married women’s doors only to leave them the next morning. I’m sorry, Nonna, but it’s the truth.”

  His grandmother, to her credit, didn’t look particularly surprised at this revelation. Nor proud, either.

  “How is that any different than what you’re doing now?” Lea pointed out.

  “It’s worlds different,” Matthew protested. “It took me one drink with Nina to feel like I’d found my center. Like I’d found the one person on the planet who could learn the worst about me and still see the best.” He glanced at me again, and tipped my chin with one finger. “Who could earn every secret I had and still love me for them.”

  My insides warmed. Oh, how right he was.

  “I…” Matthew sputtered for a moment when he turned back to the six frowning women watching us. “Look, you want something more? She even tried to pay off my debt. My mortgage, credit card debts, my student loans, all of it! I wouldn’t let her, because I’m just as proud and stubborn as every other person at this table. But she still tried. Because the truth is, she wants to take care of me, take care of us just as much as I want to take care of her.”

  Frankie turned to me in shock. “Is that true?”

  I shrugged. “It was my first attempt. I can’t guarantee there won’t be others, but for now I’m biding my time.”

  “Well, since he’s unemployed now, I’d say the time is right,” she replied dryly.

  “Can it, Frankie,” Matthew snapped. “Otherwise, I’ll toss you out of the house myself, and you can have Mike babysit you with the other kids.”

  His sister just smirked over her wine.

  “There’s a saying between two people who love each other,” I told him sweetly. “‘What’s mine is yours.’ Ever heard of it?”

  Matthew’s mouth opened. I took the opportunity to kiss him on the cheek. A few of his sisters chuckled.

  “She got you there, Mattie,” Kate said warmly, followed by a chorus of agreement from the others.

  It was a good sign. The room was warming. All except for the one distinctly cold attitude.

  “Mrs. Zola,” I said. “Let me put this as clearly as I can.”

  I took a deep breath, which seemed to be mimicked by my audience. But I found I was no longer nervous. I had been preparing for this moment, perhaps from the time I met the man sitting next to me. Like a horse finding her way home, every step I took was true.

  “I could not love anyone more than I love this man. His kindness. His intelligence. His incredible compassion. He may not always be so generous with himself, but I know the truth just like you do. I see him for the genuinely good man he is—the very best man there is. All I want to do is cherish him and treat him the way I know he deserves. Give him all the love that he provides you and these wonderful women with every day. Because that’s who he is. And that’s who I am when I’m with him.”

  Matthew’s hand slipped into my lap and picked up my left hand, which he raised gently to his mouth. Our eyes met over the sparkle of the ring, and for a moment our audience disappeared.

  “I love you too,” he said in front of his entire family, but in a tone meant only for me.

  My heart felt like it would burst from happiness as he pressed a tame, but passionate kiss to my lips.

  Eventually, though, we turned back to the head of the table, where Mrs. Zola was still watching us carefully over the rim of her glass.

  “I see. And Matthew, you feel the same about her?”

  “I’m just doing what Nonno told me.”

  “Oh? And what was that?”

  Matthew smiled, and the warmth on his face lit me from inside as he caressed my cheek. “He said one day God would give me a good woman to love, and when I found her, I better love her well.” His thumb brushed over my lips. “Who am I to turn down a gift from God? Especially when she makes me feel like this?”

  On the other side of the table, Joni, Marie, and Kate sighed in unison. Frankie’s and Lea’s expressions were both still concerned, but had softened considerably with something else that looked like love for their brother, yes, but also understanding.

  Sofia Annamaria Zola dropped her hands to her lap, appearing to have come to a decision.

  “Well,” she said. “We’re just gonna have to do something about this cattivo, aren’t we?”

  Matthew and his sisters all grumbled their agreement. And in that moment, I wasn’t sure how, but the two-person team I was on grew just a little bit bigger.

  “Welcome to the family, Nina,” said Frankie as she gave me a kiss on the cheek. “But I gotta warn you. Once you’re a Zola, there’s no going back.”

  This time, I really couldn’t help but grin. “I really hope so. I can’t wait.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  May 2019

  Matthew

  Three…two…one…home.

  I came to a stop outside my house after finishing my run home from the gym. Breathing heavily, I checked my watch.

  “Shit,” I muttered. Time to get my ass in gear. I could not be late. Not tonight.

  “Mattie? Is that you?” Frankie called from the kitchen as I entered the house.

  “Shower!” I called back as I made for the stairs.

  A minute later, I was in my room stretching when there was a knock on the door.

  “You decent?” Frankie asked.

  “Yeah, come in.” I stood up and pulled off my sweat-soaked shirt, then lay on the floor and started my sit-up regimen.

  Frankie crept in, carrying a large bouquet of Easter lilies.

  “Aw, that’s sweet, Fran, but I’m more of a red rose kind of guy, you know.”

  “Oh, shut up,” she said. “I’m having a personal issue and I need your advice.”

  I raised a brow. “If you don’t like him, send them back. And if you really don’t like him, send me.” I started a round of Russian twists. “So who’s the new guy?”

  “Not new. Old. More than four years old, if you know what I mean.”

  I paused, twisted toward her. “Xavier?”

  Frankie hadn’t said much more about her baby daddy since the minor explosion at Nonna’s, only because I wasn’t one to push. Our sisters, on the other hand, definitely were, so I was pretty sure they knew every damn detail there was.

  “Lea told me to call him. So I sent an email to his office.”

  At that, I paused and sat up. “Whatever happened at the Christmas party?”

  Frankie shook her head. “We, um, talked.”

  “Not about Sofia, I take it?”

  She shook her head. “More the, um, ‘alone’ kind of talking. And t
hen I left. I’ll spare you the details.”

  I made a face. “I appreciate that. And you haven’t talked to him since?”

  She shrugged. “He doesn’t have my number. He sent a few emails to my work address, but I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say. Until now, apparently.”

  “Are you thinking you’re going to tell him about Sof?”

  Frankie shook her head. “I don’t know. I barely know him, Mattie. We had a fling almost five years ago now, and he was with someone else at the time, and then…” She shook her head. “Anyway, I just said it was nice to see him again. That was it. That was this morning. These arrived while you were out. Plus this.”

  She handed me a card, which I opened and read out loud.

  Like a ripple that chases

  The slightest caress of a breeze,

  Is that how you want me to follow you?

  Xavi

  I whistled. “Not subtle, is he?”

  “He didn’t write it or anything. It’s a famous Japanese poem. I looked it up.”

  I handed her back the card. “I don’t know how I feel about reading my little sister’s love letters, Fran.”

  “Don’t be a jerk. What does it mean, though?”

  “Seems pretty clear to me. He’s asking what you want.”

  “Which is…”

  I shrugged and turned over to hold a plank. “Do you really need me to tell you that?”

  “I do when I don’t know!”

  This wasn’t like my sister. She wasn’t usually the indecisive type. “You messaged him, Frankie. Seems like you want to talk to him.”

  “And say what? Hey, don’t know if you remember me, but thanks for the two one-night stands, they were super fun. Oh, and by the way, that first time, I got pregnant that night and had your baby and never told you.” Frankie sighed and sat down on my bed.

  I started moving back and forth between my hands and forearms, grunting with effort before settling on my forearms for good. “It seems like he a lot more than remembers you. And he sure as shit seemed to remember you at Christmas.”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  I grimaced with effort. Two more minutes. “I thought you were going to have mercy on me with that.”

  “I can’t go there again,” she continued. “It was bad enough back then. He was engaged, you know.”

  “Mmph.” I really didn’t want to think about my sister getting involved with anyone, much less someone else’s fiancé. Even if it did make me a damn hypocrite. “What about now?”

  “Well, in December, he said he was single.” Frankie lay back on the bed and sighed heavily at the ceiling. “I wanted to tell him. But I just kept thinking of…”

  “Thinking of what?”

  “Mom.”

  I frowned, then pushed myself up to sit. “What about her?”

  Frankie sat back up and pulled at a lock of hair hanging down from her ponytail. “The way she left after Dad died. I mean, it’s all right that Lea and them are making peace with her. But I remember too. I remember how it feels to have your own parent walk away from you. Like you’re nothing.” She looked up at me. “I think you were right, you know, staying away from her. It’s why I don’t let her near Sofia. I don’t want her to break her heart.”

  “Yeah, but Sofia doesn’t know Xavier. You don’t really either.”

  I got up from the ground and moved to sit next to Frankie. Nina’s face when she talked to Giuseppe Bianchi’s widow flashed through my mind. The humility in her when she introduced herself to his daughters.

  “You know, I’m wondering if we shouldn’t at least try to say hi to Mom next time she calls,” I said.

  Frankie’s mouth dropped. “You’re kidding. You want to talk to Mom?”

  I massaged the back of my neck, feeling uncomfortable. “I don’t know if I want to, per se. But if there’s anything I’ve learned over the last year, it’s that people can change. And something she did ten, twenty years ago…well, it might not be the person she is now. I’m not saying we have to invite her in, or anyone else you don’t want for your own sake and Sofia’s. But, you know, when it comes to Sofia’s dad, maybe you can answer the door. Maybe you can talk on the porch. Have a conversation. You know what I’m saying?”

  Frankie rubbed her lips together in thought for a bit, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I see. Something to think about anyway.”

  “All right. I wish I had more brotherly advice for you. But I’m tapped out, and now I have to get ready.”

  She hopped up from the bed. “Say no more. Hey, Mattie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You know, I thought about it, and I think it’s a good thing, you and Nina, after all. She loves you. Anyone can see that.”

  I turned. “You finally coming around, little sister?”

  “I think it’s good for you, too,” she said as she walked toward the door. “I see how you love her. How you talk about her daughter. Soon you’ll have a real family to protect. Not just me and the others. We’re all grown. You need a family of your own. I’m glad you’re getting one.”

  The idea of Nina and Olivia as my family made my chest warm. I smiled. “Thanks, Fran.”

  “Have fun at the ball, Cinderella,” she teased as she left.

  Ten minutes later, I was showered and in my room drying off when my phone buzzed on my bureau.

  “Perfect timing,” I said. “I just got out of the shower.”

  “And so you decided to tease me with that image?” Nina’s voice, slightly husky, purred through the speaker.

  I turned, examining myself in the mirror with a towel wrapped around my waist. Not too bad for thirty-seven. I was fit. Could still make out the individual muscles of a solid six-pack. If anything, since meeting Nina, I had more of a reason to look good, just to hear her sound like that.

  “Could be,” I said, turning away from my reflection. “Since you’re being stubborn and wouldn’t let me get ready with you uptown. Should I send you a picture? Let you know what you’re missing?”

  “Matthew…”

  “I’m just kidding. For now. Anyway, I’m getting dressed, so I won’t be late, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “No, that’s not it. Actually, well, there’s someone at the door for you, and no one has answered the door, so she called me…”

  “Matthew!” Frankie’s voice shouted before I could ask Nina what she meant. “Get down here!”

  “Hold on, doll.”

  Keeping Nina on the line, I jogged downstairs to find my sister signing for some kind of garment bag and a shoebox. A young woman who looked a little too buttoned up for the typical bike messenger bristled as she handed me the bag and shoes, but her gaze drew over me a little too slowly for formality.

  “Oh, for crying out loud, Matthew,” Frankie said. “I didn’t mean come down in your towel.”

  On the phone, Nina chuckled. “Perhaps I do want that picture after all.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I told them all.

  I glanced down at my naked torso, which the messenger seemed to be enjoying. Eat your heart out, lady. This ain’t for you.

  “Thanks,” I told her, then fished a crumpled five-dollar bill from the key bowl, shoved it into her hand, and shut the door. I carried the packages upstairs, Nina still on the phone tucked under my ear.

  “Did you just shut the door in that poor woman’s face?”

  “I gave her a tip,” I said as I hooked the garment bag over my closet door. “What did you want me to do, chitchat with her in my towel? I have things to do. Anyway, what’s all this?” I asked as I hooked the garment bag on my closet door.

  “A gift. Something for you to wear tonight.”

  I frowned. “What? I have a tux.”

  I glanced at the 1980s Armani hanging from the back of my door, freshly dry-cleaned and pressed for tonight’s party. Nina had seen it before—exactly one year ago, in fact, when we had tried to say goodbye to each other at the last gala. Of course, that ev
ening hadn’t exactly panned out the way we thought. Eric ended up killing a man, and I’d spent a sleepless night trying to understand what happened until Nina showed up on my doorstep the next morning.

  “Darling, I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want you to be angry.”

  I frowned suspiciously as I wiped a few drops of water off my chest. “What’s that?”

  “Relatively soon, you may have to attend a lot of these things, and not just as a family friend. There will be certain…expectations of you. I don’t think I need to tell you that some of the attendees can be rather unforgiving.”

  “You’re saying I don’t fit in with all the muckety-mucks on the Upper East Side? Duchess, I already knew that. I just didn’t think you cared.”

  I tried to ignore the pain I felt at the idea that maybe she did care after all.

  “Oh, my reputation is ruined beyond rescue. But I do care about you. And these events aren’t easy for anyone, much less outsiders. It will be easier for you to navigate if you have the right…costume.”

  I turned around like she was standing behind me, not talking on the phone. “What are you saying, my wardrobe is rags?”

  I was trying to be light, but to be honest, I was more than a little offended. Every vintage suit in my closet was chosen with love.

  Nina chuckled. “My love, I adore your style. You know that. No one makes a fedora or a pair of suspenders look better than you do.”

  “I’m sensing a ‘but’ here.”

  “As impeccable as your taste is, it’s not always…how shall we say…à la mode.”

  “Topped with ice cream?”

  “It’s French for ‘of the moment.’”

  I pulled on a pair of underwear and hung my towel from a hook over my door. “I know what it means, Nina. But I like my clothes. They’re vintage, so they aren’t supposed to be ‘à la mode.’ They’re supposed to be classic. Plus, I chose all of them from Kate’s shop, and every last piece was tailored to fit me. What is this, some off-the-rack crap? You don’t even wear that.”