Tossed Into Love (Fluke My Life 3)

“Yeah, everything’s great.” I smile, hoping to reassure her. “I just want to discuss something with you both if you have time.”

“Okay, come on in. Tony’s in the dining room.” She lets me into the house and closes the door before she leads me to Tony, who is sitting with a cup of tea in front of him—along with an open newspaper.

“Hey, Tony,” I say when he notices me. He smiles, then gets up to kiss my cheek and give me a hug.

“What brings you here?” he asks while I take a seat across from him and Martina.

Feeling suddenly nervous, I blurt out my reason. “I want to buy Tony’s.”

Tony looks at me, stunned, while Martina’s mouth drops open.

Last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I want, what will make me happy. When I got up this morning, I called the Realtor who has the listing for Tony’s and found out how much they were selling the business for. Then I made a few more calls and found out that I have just enough money saved for a down payment on the business and the rent for the space—but I would still need a backer. My dad has always been my biggest champion, so I called him with my idea and asked if he could help me out. He told me that he would help out in whatever way I needed. After I got off the phone with him, I got in a cab and came straight over.

“You what?” Tony asks, trying to make sure he heard me correctly.

I look around their cozy yellow dining room, getting my thoughts in order before I blurt out anything more.

“I want to purchase Tony’s from you and Martina.”

“Cara, you work as a stylist,” Martina points out, looking worried about me.

“I do, but I don’t really like it. I love working at Tony’s. I’m happy there. I feel good about myself every time I step through the door. I feel proud and excited. I know it might seem strange because of the career I have built for myself as a makeup artist, but I love your shop. I love making pies. I want to keep working there. I want to keep feeling good and happy, and I’m happy there.” I know I’m rambling and that I don’t sound very sophisticated, as I probably should sound at a time like this.

“Owning a business is a lot of responsibility,” Tony points out gently.

“I know it is. As Martina can tell you, I already have a business of my own. I started it from just an idea. I know this is not going to be easy, and I would not even be thinking about taking the risk if I didn’t know I could handle it.” When I finish, Tony’s eyes go to Martina before coming back to me.

“Are you sure about this, cara?” Martina asks.

“Yes, I’m sure. I have never been more sure about anything in my life.”

Even when I decided to move to the city to go to cosmetology school, I had doubts about what I was doing. But I have no doubts about this.

“Okay,” Tony states. “We will all have to talk to our Realtor, and you will have to speak with the landlord of the building and figure out all the financing stuff. If you really want it, it’s yours.”

“Really?” I ask in disbelief.

“Really,” he agrees.

Tears start to fill my eyes.

“I should tell Antonio,” Martina says, studying me.

Unexpected panic fills my chest.

“No!” I shout, causing her to jump in her chair. “I mean”—I lower my voice—“not yet. Not until after everything is settled. Please. I don’t want to jinx it.”

The truth is that I don’t want Antonio to try and talk me out of buying the shop because of his own personal feeling about the business.

“He knows we’re selling, cara. It might make him happy to know that you’re going to be the one purchasing it,” Martina says.

I inhale.

“Please, not yet. Can we wait until everything is done?” I ask.

She looks at her husband, who is studying me with a strange look in his eyes.

“When the time’s right, you can tell him,” Tony says, putting emphasis on the word you.

That panic in my chest comes back, in full force.

“Okay, I’ll tell him,” I agree, maybe not lying.

I tell myself that I can just send him an email or a text to let him know, once everything is done.

“I like the idea of Tony’s staying in the family,” Martina says.

I smile at her warmly, liking the idea of her thinking of me as family. My eyes widen as she continues.

“Who knows? Maybe one day you will even have the last name Moretti.”

“Martina . . . ,” Tony sighs, “leave the poor girl alone.”

“They say the person you ring in the New Year with will be the one you spend your year with.”