Laying a Foundation: Bonus volume: Includes series prequel, The Groundbreaking (The Love Under Construction Series) (32 page)

“Doing okay, buddy?” Tony asked Vic on Thursday. It had been three days since the fire, and Tony needed to know if Vic had everything he needed to keep the Lexington office going. Tony and Cheryl had worked late on Tuesday and Wednesday night, making copies Vic needed, and Nikki had even come in and helped them sort through and staple everything together. Nikki had learned quite a bit about the business just from the reading she’d done as she handled all of the documents.

“Yeah, I think I’m okay. Thanks for sending the courier with the keys. The guys are all out now doing their thing. With what’s been going on, I don’t think we need to use a construction trailer for an office, so I’m heading out to look for some temporary office space. Any requests?”

Tony laughed. “Yeah. Make sure it has a good fire alarm, some extinguishers, and a sprinkler system!” That made Vic chuckled. “But, listen, in all seriousness, be careful. Those fuckers are still out there somewhere. Who knows what they’ll try next?”

“My forty-five is on my hip,” Vic assured him, “and my shotgun is in my truck. I’m keeping watch.”

S
ometimes it seemed like their big weekend would never get there, and sometimes it seemed to be rushing toward Nikki. After thirty years of being someone’s wife and only five of being alone, she’d never thought she’d get so nervous at the prospect of having sex. Being such a bundle of nerves had turned out to be quite a surprise, and not necessarily the good kind.

Tony, on the other hand, was a different story. The anticipation was making him practically giddy. Everyone was noticing how upbeat he was, not to mention the permanent smile plastered on his face. He thought about Nikki practically every waking moment, and sometimes in his sleep. Wondering what she’d look like undressed, how soft her skin would be, how it would feel to be inside her, kept him up at night and made him greet every day with a new attitude. He had a girlfriend, he was intent on getting laid, and nothing was going to get him down.

It was smooth sailing until after dinner on Monday night at Nikki’s house. When she’d gotten the dinner dishes put in the dishwasher and the leftovers put away, Tony dropped the bomb. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet all evening; now Nikki knew why.

“Sweetie, what are you doing tomorrow evening?” he asked innocently.

“Same thing I do every evening – spending it with you – unless you’ve got other ideas.” If he did, she was kind of afraid to hear it.

“Actually, I do.” He tried his best to sound nonchalant. “We’ve been invited to dinner.”

But something in his voice set off an alarm, and she turned from the sink to look at him. “Is that so? And where is this dinner?”

He’d been looking at a magazine at the table and, without looking up at her, answered in a placid tone, “My mom’s.”

Nikki felt her heart sink. Aw, hell – the meeting of the mom. “Do we really have to do that already?” she asked, panic rising in her chest.

“Yes we do, Nik. My mother knows I’ve been seeing someone special, and she wants to meet you.” He looked for all the world like he was lying and knew he’d been busted. “Not to mention I spent Mother’s Day with you instead of her. She wants to see exactly who usurped her power,” he laughed. With no kids anymore and a mother who didn’t seem to care for her at all, Nikki had forgotten Tony actually had a mother and he hadn’t spent Mother’s Day with her. She had a feeling she had some apologizing to do for that.

“She wants to meet me.” Tony nodded at her. “Who ratted us out?” Tony shrugged. If Nikki had to guess, she’d say Annabeth, and probably accidentally. “Your mother wants to meet me,” she repeated. “This can’t be good.” She was trembling slightly when she said it.

“Annabeth thinks she’s going to hit you with a Sicilian curse. But I think it’ll be fine. You two should hit it off – you’re a lot alike,” Tony quipped, taking a sip of his wine. Being sarcastic was probably a bad move at that point, but he couldn’t help it. There would have to be a trip to the liquor store, because he had a feeling he was going to need more wine before all was said and done, or maybe even whiskey.

Nikki groaned and dropped her head to the countertop. If there was anything she hated, it was having to try to make small talk with someone she barely knew, least of all someone whose son she was dating. It was a damn shame she hadn’t had more lead time or she could’ve gone to the hospital and found someone with the flu to infect her so she could have a legitimate excuse to avoid this.

Tony came over and started rubbing her shoulders. Usually his touch made her feel better, but this time it wasn’t working. “Baby, I’ll be right there. She might make you miserable, but she can’t eat you.”

“Okay. I’m going to assume she simply wants to meet me and make friends,” Nikki replied with a huge, forced dose of fake cheerfulness.

“Yeah, you go with that.” Tony dripped sarcasm again. Then he smiled at her. “Look, I will promise you this; I won’t let her get too rough with you. But with Mamma, you have to hold your own. If you let her run all over you, she won’t respect you. And that’s everything in our family. So you have to stand up to her.”

“Oh, thanks. No pressure.” Whatever hopefulness she’d managed was completely shot. “I guess it’s got to happen sooner or later. Might as well get it over with.”

“How do I look? Do I look okay?” Nikki asked for the hundredth time as Tony helped her out of his truck at his mother’s.

He smiled. “Baby, you look beautiful. Just the right combination of classy and voluptuous. And you looked beautiful two and a half minutes ago when you asked me the last time. And the time before that, and the time before that.”

She was a mess. Her stomach was churning, and she felt kind of dizzy.
God, I hope I don’t trip, fall, and make a complete fool of myself,
she thought as they walked up the steps to the front door. Instead of ringing the bell, he opened the door and walked right in.
Of course; that’s what people do at their parents’ house,
she laughed to herself. She’d forgotten. It had been awhile since she’d had parents.

“Mamma, we’re here!” Tony called out. As he took Nikki’s purse and placed it in a chair by the door, she heard footsteps and turned.

Raffaella was tiny, barely four feet ten inches and curvy in all the right places, a very attractive woman, and Nikki could tell she’d been a true stunner in her day. She had on a deep green dress Nikki would’ve guessed cost over five hundred dollars, a pair of what looked like black patent Manolo Blahniks, black hose, and enough jewelry to put Tiffany’s out of business. Her hair was perfectly coiffed. Nikki was surprised to notice it was almost completely dark, with only a few white strands here and there, so it obviously wasn’t dyed. She smelled of something really, really expensive, like a pricey perfume mixed with money. As Nikki looked at her, she saw Annabeth’s features and coloring – the girl looked so much like her grandmother. After greeting Tony with a kiss on each cheek, she turned to Nikki and held out her hand.

“And you are . . . ?” Raffaella asked, pretending to have no clue.

“Mamma, this is Nikki. Nikki Wilkes. Nik, this is my mother, Raffaella Walters.” Nikki took her hand, wondering if she was supposed to shake it or curtsy and kiss it. Instead, she gave it a gentle squeeze, and the older woman’s other hand enveloped hers.
Off to a good start,
she thought.

“Dinner is ready. Would the two of you care to come and sit at the table?” Raffaella led the way, Nikki followed, and Tony walked slightly behind her, his hand on her lower back. When they neared the table, Tony stepped briskly to pull out his mother’s chair, then did the same for Nikki before seating himself.

“I made spaghetti Bolognese, but we’ll start with mussels marinara. Oh, no, I forgot the bread!” Raffaella exclaimed.

“Don’t worry, Mamma, I’ll get it.” Tony darted into the kitchen, and Nikki was a little frightened when he disappeared through the door. She really didn’t want to be alone with Raffaella – not yet anyway.

“So, I hope you like Italian food,” Raffaella purred toward Nikki, “because it is a staple in the Walters family.”

“Oh, I love it!” Nikki exclaimed, then worried she’d sounded a bit too enthusiastic through all the nerves. Raffaella’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing her. At that moment, Tony came back through the door with the bread.

“Shall I serve the mussels?” he asked.

“Please do, my son.” Raffaella’s strong accent practically dripped sugar when she spoke to Tony.

He spooned out several mussels onto Raffaella’s plate, then Nikki’s, and then served himself. Nikki waited. Raffaella stared directly at her, which made her even more nervous than she already was.

“Well?” Raffaella questioned, continuing to stare at her. “Please try them and let me know how you like them.”

Nikki swallowed hard. She’d been waiting, hoping Raffaella or Tony would eat the first one. She had no idea how they ate mussels. She knew how
she
ate them, but . . . she picked one up, broke the upper shell off, and used it to scoop the mussel out of the lower shell, then spooned it into her mouth with the shell.

Raffaella looked at her as though she’d just shot the pope. “My child, we have forks for that,” she responded in a biting tone. Tony looked disturbed. “How on earth did you decide to eat mussels that way?”

Nikki couldn’t manage more than a whisper. “This is how Martha Stewart said to eat them.” It was the truth; that’s where she’d seen it, and the reason she’d always eaten them that way. Tony started to chuckle under his breath, and Raffaella choked, sputtering and coughing into her napkin.

“You all right, Mamma?” Tony asked her, still chuckling. Nikki looked at him, desperate, eyes wide, and he grinned and winked at her.
Good answer!,
he mouthed.

“My, well, regardless what Queen Martha says, I think I will stick with my fork, if that is all right with you,” Raffaella said sourly and picked up an hors d’oeuvres fork.

“To each his own.” Nikki felt a bit better, especially when she watched as Tony picked up a mussel and mimicked her technique. She smiled at him and he grinned again.

“So, Ms. Wilkes . . .” Raffaella began.

“Nikki. Please call me Nikki.”

“So, Nikki, where did you meet my son?”

“He came into the florist shop where I work to buy flowers for Annabeth for her birthday. But we also go to the same gym.” Nikki was trying to be quick with her answers and still not talk with a mussel in her mouth.

“Ah, you are a shop girl!” Raffaella cried out with glee as though she’d made some huge point. It was lost on Nikki. As far as the younger woman was concerned, work was work, regardless what it was.

“Well, I haven’t been one for long. I had to find a job when my, well, my situation changed.” She really did not want to share any emotional scrap with the dark-haired, steely-eyed woman.

Raffaella looked at her, waiting for an explanation. Tony answered her unspoken question. “Mamma, Nikki suffered a horrible tragedy. Her husband and children were killed in a terrible accident.”

“That is horrible. I am terribly sorry for your loss.” Raffaella spoke the words, but they didn’t match the cold, hard expression on her face. It appeared to Nikki that Raffaella thought the whole story was a made-up tale for sympathy. “So how many months ago was that?” she asked pithily.

“Mamma, it was five years ago,” Tony replied for Nikki, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

“Oh, so you are now sufficiently over it.” Nikki stifled any facial expression, but she couldn’t believe the callousness in the older woman’s voice.

“Mamma!” Tony spat harshly. “That’s enough!”

“What? I am only asking because it appears she is moving on.” She turned back to Nikki with a smirk on her face, and Nikki could feel herself shrinking. “So how did you decide my son was the one with whom to do this?” Boy, she didn’t pull any punches or even slow down. Nikki tried to formulate a clever response, then decided pure honesty was the way to go.

“Because he asked me to take a chance on him,” she answered quietly in a tremulous voice. Any hope she’d had of keeping Raffaella from knowing how rattled she was had flown out the window.

“Take a chance on
him
?” Raffaella shrilled, her voice rising. “Young woman, I would definitely think that would be the other way around, wouldn’t you?” Raffaella was practically indignant at that point. Nikki thought it was ironic that Raffaella had almost complimented her; it had been a long time since anyone had called her a young woman.

Tony interrupted. “No, Mamma, what she said is true. I specifically asked her to take a chance on me. Nikki hadn’t dated anybody since her husband died, and she wasn’t sure she was ready. I pursued her; she didn’t pursue me.” Tony gripped Nikki’s hand under the table, and she immediately felt better.

Raffaella seemed surprised. “Is that so?” She turned to glare at Tony, then turned her attention back to Nikki, her eyes practically shooting lightning bolts. “So, is the shop girl willing to take a chance on my handsome, successful, wealthy son? Hmmm?” She drummed her fingers on the table. “And by the way, do not think I do not notice your expensive jewelry and clothing. Antonio, are you already keeping this woman up?”