I roll my eyes. “Francesca’s a million times superior to Tanya.”
“Well, sure, Tanya was an immature, game-playing little shit. But at the time, you thought the sun shone out of her asshole.”
Leveling her an unamused look, I say, “Stop.”
Mark is at a chair at the island, somehow eating again. Popping a cashew into his mouth, he says, “Wait, who’s Tanya? Sal’s usually all James Bond with the ladies.”
“I wasn’t born with all this game, okay?” I shoot back.
“He got totally played by this evil she-demon in high school,” Maddie tells him.
“He doesn’t need these details,” I inform her. “It was high school. I’m 30 years old.”
“She was the worst,” Maddie summarizes. “I’m biased, but she was.”
Mark sighs, shaking a handful of cashews and glancing up at us. “Are you guys really going to make me be the voice of reason? She’s a Morelli. You’re a Castellanos. Where’s this gonna go?” Before I can answer, he holds up a hand to stop me. “And even if you only want to hook up with her and stop before it turns into a Shakespearean tragedy, it’s a huge risk. Mateo could find out, your dad could find out—I don’t even know which would be worse, truth be told, but either scenario could happen.”
Although it seems like she hates to agree with Mark, Maddie grimaces faintly. “Dad does loathe the Morelli family.”
“And Mateo is pretty ruthless,” Mark adds. “He ever steps foot into the bakery long enough to get a weird vibe off me and I’m fucked.”
I run the pizza pan under the faucet, then stick it in the dishwasher. “This is still new. We’re not getting married or anything.”
“I get that, but it’s not crazy to consider where it might lead,” Maddie points out. “If you both like each other but it can’t go anywhere, aren’t you only opening yourself up to pain?”
This aggravates me, because I’ve had the same thought. Not about myself—I can handle a little pain, but after what Francesca went through with that other douchebag, the last thing I ever want to do is be another asshole who hurts her.
“This is a premature concern,” I inform them, taking a firmer tone, in hopes they’ll leave it alone.
“I disagree,” Mark states. “I’ve never seen you work so hard for a chick before.”
“Is it work if you enjoy it?” I shoot back.
“So, what happens if you fall in love with her?” Maddie asks me. “You can’t marry her, you can’t have kids, and Ma’s never going to stop bothering you about doing both of those things. So, what, then? Do you marry some other woman our parents will approve of and keep Francesca as a mistress?”
The scowl she earns with this remark is a little mean, for a look aimed at Maddie. “Fuck no.”
Eyebrows rising, she holds a hand up. “Whoa, tiger.”
“I’m not Dad; I’m not going to do bullshit like that. That’s fucking insulting.”
“I obviously agree with you, I’m just… I mean, it doesn’t feel like there’s a best case scenario here.”
“If I fall in love with Francesca and our relationship develops into something more, we’ll deal with it then.”
“That’s not a plan, though,” she points out. “That’s just putting off the inevitable and digging yourself a deeper hole to fall into.”
Mark nods. “And while baking cakes is definitely a nice change of pace, how long am I going to have to stay there? I mean, when are you not going to want to protect Francesca?”
“You’re getting the same pay, whether you’re at the bakery or not.”
“But I can’t do much real work for your family as long as I’m there. I can’t show up on the Morelli radar. I more or less am just a baker right now. Your dad might start noticing how useless I am and wonder why he’s paying me.”
“Then I’ll pay you,” I tell him.
“I think you know money isn’t the real problem here,” he states.
“You’re both wasting your breath,” I state, popping a tablet in the dishwasher and closing the door. “I’m not going to stop seeing Francesca, and as long as I am seeing her, she needs a bodyguard. I wanted you guys to meet her and see that she’s great, not try to talk me out of anything.”
Softening somewhat, Maddie says, “She is great. I really liked her. I’m only trying to be sensible. I love you and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“And I’ve been spending time with her, so I kind of already figured out she’s great,” Mark adds. “But I think she may be more a fantasy than a realistic possibility.”
“I decide how my life goes,” I state, immovably. “Not my family. Not her family. I decide.”
Maddie and Mark exchange looks, neither of them looking especially comfortable with this assertion, but they’re pissing me off and I don’t care. Maybe Francesca and I will fizzle out on our own, maybe we won’t, but one thing’s for damn sure: I won’t let either of our families be the reason I can’t have her.