My stomach growls at the memory. Maybe I’ll have to get Ras to take me there again this week.
Familiar footsteps pad into the room. “Morning, Peaches,” Ras says, his voice still raspy with sleep. He embraces me from behind and presses a kiss to the side of my neck, his beard scraping deliciously against my skin. “You’re up early.”
I lean into him. “Couldn’t sleep.”
His hand slides lower to my belly. “How are you feeling?”
Ras has been doting on me this entire time, checking in to make sure I’m okay at least a few times a day. I’ve had to tell him to chill on more than one occasion, but secretly, I love that he’s so attentive.
It’s so different from what I’m used to.
“Good,” I tell him, sipping on my tea and turning to face him. “Do you remember Vale and Dem are coming in a few hours?”
He sighs. “Yes. Although, I’m tempted to cancel so that I can have you to myself for the entire Saturday.”
“Don’t you dare,” I say with a smile on my lips.
He takes my mug out of my hands, places it on the counter behind me, and tugs me into a deep kiss.
I moan into his mouth. It never gets old, being kissed by him like I’m everything he could possibly ever need.
When he pulls away, his eyes are dark with lust. He pushes his fingers into my hair and presses the length of his body against mine. “They’re not coming over that soon, are they?”
I roll my hips, heat spreading beneath my skin. “Not that soon.”
A lazy grin unfurls on his face. “Come back to bed, then.”
I do.
Vale and Damiano arrive just past noon. Vale hands me a light-blue box that smells like yeast and sugar and when I open it, I gasp. Twelve Fiocchi di Neve lined up in three neat rows.
“I was just thinking how badly I wanted these things. How did you know?”
She wraps one arm around my shoulders and presses her lips to my hair. “Sister intuition.”
Damiano appears behind her. He greets me with a kiss on the cheek, and then turns to Ras and claps him on the back. “I visited the new factory this morning. It’s really coming along.”
“We’re a few weeks away from getting the workers started,” Ras says. “You might want to call Messero next week to let him know. “
Ras and Damiano cut my father out of their counterfeits deal and are now working directly with Rafaele. Ras doesn’t like to talk to my ex-fiancé, so Damiano handles most of their communication.
I haven’t talked to Mamma or Papà since I left, and I’m not sure when or if I ever will. Right now, I have no desire to invite them back into my life. Not after I’ve realized how little they truly ever cared about me.
With Vince, I’ve opened a line of communication. He seems genuinely remorseful about everything. He texts me every week, and from time to time we’ll do a video call. We don’t talk about Papà or what happened in New York, but he asks me lots of questions about my new life in Italy. He’s excited about becoming an uncle, and I think he’s waiting for me to invite him to visit us. I’ve been toying with the idea.
“No work talk,” Vale chastises Damiano. “I had to stop him from calling Giorgio this morning,” she says to me, giving her husband the side eye. “Him and Mari are in Venice on vacation.”
“Venice? I’d love to go one day,” I say.
Ras overhears and wraps his arms around my waist. “I’ll take you, Peaches.”
We settle around the table on the back patio and the cook brings out plates of antipasti, bruschetta, pasta with fragrant garlic sauce, and grilled fish.
The conversation flows easily. It didn’t take long for Ras and Damiano to reconcile and now it’s like their rift never happened. They scoot their chairs closer to each other and start discussing something in rapid-fire Italian.
Vale looks at them and sighs. “There he goes again.” She shakes her head with a knowing smile. “Dem's probably telling Ras about his new obsession—a massive mozzarella factory he wants to open around here. I swear, he's always juggling at least five new business ideas in his head.”
“You thinking about helping him with one of those?” I ask. Vale’s mentioned she’s been looking for something to do with her time. My sister's got a lot of energy, and I know she's not going to be happy with sitting around in their palatial home while Dem's busy running the clan.
“Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.” She puts down her glass of wine and pulls out her phone. “Take a look.”
On the screen there are photos of… an empty space?
My brows pinch in confusion. “What am I looking at? A bunch of white walls?”
Vale laughs. “Okay, it’s a lot more impressive in person, but it’s a location in the Chiaia neighborhood in Naples that would be perfect for an art gallery.” She shoots a pointed look at one of my recent paintings on the wall. "What do you think?"
My nape tingles as I try to make sense of what she’s saying. “Hold on, Vale,” I laugh nervously. “I just started painting. My stuff is hardly art gallery worthy.”
Less than a week after we got to Casale di Principe, Ras drove me to an art supplies store and bought me half of their stock. Or at least that's what it seemed like to me. When we got back to the house, he insisted on making one of the rooms into a studio for me. I told him he was being crazy, but in truth, I’ve been in there nearly every day since. Painting has been therapeutic for me.
I study the watercolor on the wall. I'm proud of it, but I’m still a beginner.
Vale shrugs. “It’s up to you if you want to display your work or not, but what do you think about using the space to promote local up and coming artists? We could work on it together—scout for talent, set up exhibitions, host events…”
She drifts off, watching for my reaction.
A spark of excitement appears inside my chest. I’ve been so busy setting up a new life here and preparing for the baby that I haven’t had much time to think about what I’d do after.
But the idea of working with Vale to create an art gallery, to give a platform to artists who might not have one…
Can I do it? I'd have to learn everything from scratch about running that kind of a business. I'd probably make a bunch of mistakes at first.
I glance at Ras who's absorbed in his conversation with Damiano.
He'd tell me to do it. He'd tell me it's okay to not be perfect.
It's a lesson I'm still learning, but every day, it seeps deeper and deeper inside of me.
I give Vale a smile. “You know, I think I like that idea.”
Vale whoops and hugs me, drawing the men's attention to us. “Gemma’s in on the art gallery idea!” she announces.
Damiano’s gaze flashes with approval. “That's great.”
I'm about to explain the whole thing to Ras, but there's no surprise in his expression.
“You knew about this?” I ask.
He grins. “I was the one who first noticed the location. I asked Vale to go take a look.”
Warmth unfurls inside my chest. There are times like this when he's being so damn perfect, I have to pinch myself to believe this is real.