When It Falls Apart (The D'Angelos, #1)(20)

“It’s perfect for me.”

“You don’t cook?” she asked.

“I don’t really . . . it’s not my strong point.”

Mari shook her head. “I can teach you. Sunday dinners are long and loud.”

“That won’t bother me.”

“It will take me a little time to get the furniture out for your things.”

“No!” Brooke almost shouted. “I mean, can it come furnished? I’m a clean person. I’m happy to pay a hefty deposit and cleaning fee for anything that—”

“That would be perfect. Don’t you have your own things?”

“Some, but nothing big. It’s a long story.” One she didn’t want to share.

“Maybe over a glass of wine,” Mari suggested.

“Or a bottle,” Brooke countered.

The older woman smiled.

“I like you, Brooke.”

Brooke’s palms started to sweat. “How much, Mrs. D’Angelo?”

Mari didn’t answer the question. Instead, she moved to the edge of the rooftop and picked at what looked like an herb garden. “Would you request a lease?”

“Well . . .” Brooke hesitated. “This is an experiment for you, right?”

“It is . . . but—”

“Then I wouldn’t want to hold you to something you’re not completely sure you want to do long term. Much as this would be ideal for me. Your graciousness in suggesting I rent this space is . . . well . . . if you could give me thirty days’ notice if it wasn’t working out.”

Mari lifted her chin and smiled. “You’re wise. Yes, that will work.” She walked past Brooke and headed for the apartment.

“Mrs. D’Angelo?”

“Yes?”

“The price?”

Mari paused, sniffed the herb in her hand, and stood silent for a moment before telling Brooke a number.

It was the cost of a studio in a bad neighborhood.

“That’s ridiculously low,” Brooke argued.

Mari lifted a finger in the air. “No air conditioner.” She lifted a second finger. “No elevator.” A third. “A toddler’s kitchen.” A fourth. “Laundry is downstairs in the back of the restaurant, and the only time you can use it, even if you want to, is after hours. Of course, you’re welcome to use my set at any time.” Her thumb came up last. “My family is loud. Loveable, but loud.”

Brooke didn’t hesitate. “I’ll take it.”

A breath.

A pause.

“Good.”





CHAPTER SEVEN


“You did what?”

“I rented the apartment on the top floor.”

“The guest room,” Luca corrected her.

“We need the money.”

“We’re fine.”

“Pass the wine.”

Luca stared at his mother as she casually asked for wine as if she’d just talked about finding a sweater for Franny.

“Mama.”

“Grazie,” she said to Chloe, who handed her the wine but looked just as concerned about the conversation as any of them.

“This is our home,” Gio said.

“It’s still our home.”

“With strangers inside it?” Luca insisted. He glanced at his daughter as she dug into her dinner like a starved child.

“You worry for nothing.”

“Mama!” Chloe’s voice rang in the room.

“You have nothing to worry about. I’ve vetted the tenant.”

Luca almost choked on the word. “Tenant. Do you hear yourself?”

“What about Franny?” Gio asked.

“Exactly!” Luca pointed at his daughter.

Francesca stopped chewing her bread long enough to look up at the mention of her name.

“Adventure runs in her blood. Francesca will be fine.”

Luca looked at his brother. “We can get out of it.”

“Of course we can.”

Mari’s hand slapped the table. “I have never led this family astray. You will respect my decisions until I’ve proven I’m unable to make responsible decisions. These past few years have been difficult on all of us. We can use the money. And with a renter, we have a new set of business expenditures we didn’t have before. We need them.” She took a deep breath. “Now. I expect nothing less than the hospitality we extend to our family with our new tenant. They have rented the space fully furnished. So, if there is anything upstairs that you’d like to hold on to, I suggest you get it now. They are returning next week.”

There were very few times in Luca’s life that he wanted to defy his mother with his whole being.

This was one of them.

“Francesca needs stability,” he argued.

“She’ll have it.”

“With a stranger walking in and out?” Gio shouted.

Luca appreciated his younger brother’s support.

“A stranger today is a friend tomorrow.”

“Or an enemy,” Luca growled.

His mother turned to him. “When did you become so cynical?”

“When life proved I’m right.” Breath hit his lungs hard. He shook off his thoughts. “Don’t you think we at least deserved a moment of your time to discuss a decision that would affect all of us?”