Coming Home (Morelli Family 6)

I also yearn to give Vince the comfort he clearly wants from me. He’s not Mateo, I don’t feel that kind of love for him, but hearing him tell me I broke his heart made me ache. So when I hear the rustling of the sheets as his body moves closer to mine, when the wrong pair of strong arms moves around me and I’m pulled snugly against the wrong muscular chest, I can’t help hoping it at least makes him feel better.

I wash my outfit when I wake up alone the next morning. Then I shower and get ready for the day, mildly impressed by the collection of make-up he picked out for me. Vince has never been especially good at picking out girly gifts, but this assortment is actually a step up from what I would’ve even picked out for myself.

Dinner is my job again tonight. I don’t mind, except Vince tells me I need to make enough for four.

“Is your dad coming home tonight?”

“Yep.” He doesn’t sound especially excited about it, either. I’m dreading it a lot harder. I’ve heard a lot more horror stories about Matt Morelli than Ben, but the general consensus is that the elder Morellis make the younger ones look like nice guys. Vince also swore to me, once upon a time, that he would never let his scummy father meet me, so I never thought I’d have to.

It’s not the family dinner I want to be having tonight, but it is the one that’s happening.

I’m just about done cooking when I hear voices down the hall, and then a bouncy, energetic female voice suddenly croons, “Hey, sexy.”

I haven’t turned around. I don’t care. I fully expect this to be Vince’s dad’s girlfriend, and for Vince’s dad to respond.

I’m a little more surprised when Vince replies, “Hey, Jessica.”

Now I do spin around, spatula in hand, to see if Ben appreciates his girlfriend calling his son sexy.

The old man doesn’t even seem to have noticed. If he did, he certainly doesn’t give a fuck. His eyes are on me, sweeping me head to toe, taking in my outfit and my role at the stove. He does not look impressed.

“This is her, huh?”

Vince hesitates, then finally says, “Yeah, this is Mia. Mia, my dad.”

His eyes rake over me once more before he completely dismisses me with a muttered, “Eh.”

He literally says eh! Like I’m a half-cooked potato he just pulled out of the oven, and now he might as well give up on dinner altogether.

Morellis usually like me, so this is mildly surprising. I mean, I don’t like him either, so I guess I shouldn’t care, but how rude.

He’s like 60 now, so he’s not exactly a looker himself, but I’m probably being a little unkind now since he’s clearly unimpressed with me. You can tell he probably looked more like Vince in his youth than I care to admit right now.

It doesn’t matter. He’s scum and we’re never going to be friends.

I turn back to the stove, but now I’m eyeing up this Jessica person with stolen sideways glances. I guess when Vince mentioned his dad’s girlfriend would be coming to dinner, I expected someone closer to his age. But Jessica is my age. She’s Vince’s age. She’s bottle-blonde with plump lips, big (fake) boobs, and sun-kissed skin. She’s thin and gorgeous, and what the hell is she doing with an old man?

Well. Okay. I guess I know what she’s doing with an old man. He’s a rich old man. I don’t like to assume women are gold-diggers, since I’m in a relationship with a wealthy man a good bit older myself , and also because it’s just unkind, but I’m going out on a limb and saying this is no love connection.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Jessica says, now grabbing Vince and hugging him. “I missed you.”

I do a double take as she gets all touchy-feely with that hug. Talk about inappropriate. Jesus. Who does this chick think she is right now? She’s standing here hugging on Vince, calling him sexy, affectionately rubbing his arm like she’s his girlfriend.

Oh man, I am not going to like her. I catch myself scowling—luckily before he notices—and manage to smooth out my expression, but yeah… this is going to be a rough night.

Vince does not respond to Jessica’s flirtations at all. He turns away from her, reaching into the fridge for a beer.

“Get me one while you’re in there,” she says, still with her cutesy fucking tone.

Vince ducks his head into the fridge, grabs one beer, then purposely closes the door with a smirk on his face. He then proceeds to pop the cap off his and take a long sip, so she knows it’s not for her.

She rolls her big blue eyes, taking great pleasure in shouldering him out of the way with half her body and her boobs. “You’re such an ass.” It sounds like an insult, but she says it like asses are her absolute favorite things in the whole world.