The Game (Wagered Hearts Series, #3)(27)

"Have a seat my dear," she said, pointing out the E-Z chair next to her.

I sat down and leaned back. It was actually quite a comfortable chair. "Now tell me how you and Gina met," she said.

I cocked my head and looked at her in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"Emilia's real name is Gina Marie," her mother added. "Gina Marie Scarzotti."

"I didn't know that," I admitted.

"Not many people do. I don't know why she changed it to Emilia Holliday once she went out to Hollywood. Gina Marie's a perfectly good name," her mother said, sounding a little miffed.

"Honey, why don't you go get the photo album. You know the brown leather one," Grandma Claire interrupted.

Carmen's eyes lit up and she nodded her head. Once she had gone, Emilia's grandmother turned to me and looked at me expectantly. "You still haven't answered my question," she said.

"I'm sorry. I got distracted for a minute there. Emilia--er--Gina Marie and I met about a year ago through mutual friends. My friend Ryan introduced us actually," I said.

It wasn't a lie exactly, but I certainly wasn't going to tell this woman the whole truth. She seemed so kind and old and innocent. I couldn't imagine what her reaction would be if I really told her about our fake engagement, and our real reasons for doing it.

She looked at me skeptically before nodding her head. "And what took you two so long to finally get together?" she asked.

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably, wondering if she somehow knew about our little scheme. She seemed very perceptive and much less innocent than I'd originally thought. And the way she was looking at me made me feel like she could somehow read my mind. It was the same look my mother gave me when I was a child and had gotten into trouble.




"We--uh--just met up again and realized that we were perfect for each other," I said.

It sounded lame and unbelievable to my own ears, and I cursed myself for getting so flustered. I'd never been flustered in my life. Especially not in the face of an 80 something year old woman. It was preposterous.

She arched a delicate eyebrow at me, letting me know she didn't buy my story for one second. Thankfully Carmen came back at that moment with the photo album and then some.

"I took these too, Ma," she said pointing out two smaller white albums with some lace trim. "Now, you're gonna love these Robbie," she said turning back to me. "Did I ever tell you what a beautiful child Gina Marie was?"

"No, but I can believe it," I said, feeling a genuine smile cross my lips. I was actually looking forward to getting a glimpse of what Emilia was like as a child. Normally the whole idea of sitting down with a girl's mother and grandmother looking over old family photos would send me running for the hills, but surprisingly not in this case.

Carmen took the big brown album and cracked it open first. A picture of Gina Marie as a newborn in a hospital greeted us. She lay asleep in her mother's arms as her father, who looked much younger and more fit, kissed the top of her head.

"That was the day she was born," Carmen explained. "She was a big baby. Almost ten pounds. I swore after that day, I'd never have kids again. No epidural, can you imagine?"

No, I couldn't imagine, I thought, but nodded my head at her politely instead. "That was some feat. My mother says the same thing about my birth," I said.

"Were you a big baby too?" Carmen asked.

"I think I was just over ten pounds," I said.

"Good lord. Then you and Gina Marie will have big babies. Poor girl, she's so tiny and petite too," Carmen said shaking her head.

Her words left me speechless. The idea of Emilia being pregnant--having my baby--had never ever crossed my mind. Babies were something, like marriage, that I tried to avoid like the plague. But now that Carmen had mentioned it, I found that I wasn't completely horrified by the thought. In fact, quite the opposite. I imagined a little girl with Emilia's dark hair and blue eyes, and her fiery temper and smiled to myself. Crazy!

I looked up to see Grandma Claire watching me with shrewd eyes, and I felt exposed. I wasn't sure what she was thinking, but I wasn't quite sure I wanted to find out. Thankfully, she kept her thoughts to herself.

Carmen continued to flip through the pictures, explaining each one in detail. I listened attentively and made the appropriate comments when prompted, but for the most part, tried to keep a detached air about it.

The thoughts of a pregnant Emilia were much too disturbing to my equilibrium. It was just the lizard part of my brain that was acting up, I told myself. I was in no way, shape, or form ready to be a parent. Especially to Emilia's child. The idea was insane. We weren't even really engaged.

Emilia found us like that, sitting by the fireplace, looking at her old family photos. Her face flushed and she looked at her mother and grandmother in dismay. "I can't believe you two brought out the old photo albums!" she complained.

"What? What's wrong with looking at them? You were such a cute baby," Carmen said, as if that excused everything.

"Ma!" Emilia said dragging out the word into a whine.

I couldn't help the smile on my lips seeing her interacting with her mother. Her face took on more animation and even her voice sounded different. Instead of the light, well-modulated, and polished American accent I'd always assumed was her natural voice, she took on the same accent as those around her--dropping g's and changing r's to uh's. It was all very interesting, and I was sure she didn't even notice she was doing it. Her family obviously doted on her, but they also took the piss out of her quite often as well. She became, if anything, even more appealing because she was so genuine.