The Woman from the Past (Grassi Framily)

And the food?

You guessed it.

The women.

I mean… we’dhiredcaterers. The best in the area. We’d gone over menus and made sure we picked the best there was to offer.

Then the phone call started to come in from said professional caterer that he’d been getting nonstop calls from Massimo’s mom and aunts until, eventually, he threw up his hands and quit on us.

“It’s better this way anyway,” Giulia had declared when Massimo had gone over to tell her to apologize to the caterer, so we had a chance to get him back.

“At least we know everyone will like the food,” Adrian, Sophia’s mom, had chimed in.

“As much as we love your food, Ma, this is too big a job for you two,” Massimo had reasoned.

Which was, yeah, the wrong thing to say.

Because these woman not only took it as an insult, but as a challenge.

In the end, though, we’d reached a compromise that allowed them to cook some meals, and another caterer—because the first one appeared scarred for life from the interactions—to do some as well.

The end product was better than you can imagine.

There were traditional Grassi family favorites—lasagne, penne vodka, chicken parm, and more—as well as more traditional wedding food.

The only thing the Grassi women didn’t have a hand in was the cake.

“This was ridiculous,” Traveler said, dropping down beside me in her purple and black dress. “Like in the best way, but ridiculous. I met twenty-seven guys whose first name ended in an O. Yes, I counted,” she said, shaking her head. “The food, though, was banging.”

“I will tell Massimo’s mom. That was mostly her masterpiece,” I told her. “You look so pretty.”

And I wasn’t the only one who had noticed. It didn’t escape me that August—despite bringing a date—couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of her.

“Says the literal fairytale princess,” Traveler said, shaking her head.

“So how are things? I feel like we haven’t talked in ages. I’ve been a bad friend with all this wedding planning.”

“No, you haven’t. Things are pretty average. Rizzo’s place closed. Did I tell you that?”

“No.”

“Yeah, well, I guess she couldn’t afford it without Colin’s crooked money. She closed up shop. It was bought by this amazing gay couple who are turning it into a vegan soup place.”

“Vegan soup place,” I said, smiling. “Looks like that gentrification you kept saying was coming.”

“Right? I’m waiting for those million-dollar offers to come in for my shop.”

“Which you will turn down.”

“Naturally. I’m nothing if not a pain in the ass. How have things been going here? Aside from wedding planning.”

Things had been amazing.

Because things had mostly been about falling deeper in love not only with Massimo, but with his entire family.

I’d never experienced anything like it before.

I spent one night with them at that first get-together, and suddenly I was getting calls left and right asking me to go get my nails done with them, or to go shopping, or to come over and hang out while they made dinner.