Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 102394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Wes lifted his phone and pressed a few buttons, then turned it to show me the screen. “Says it’s going to be eighty and beautiful tomorrow. Just like every other day out here.”
I shook my head. “The storm isn’t the weather. It’s Frannie Ginocassi. My mother is coming tomorrow.”
***
Francesca Concetta Grecco Ginocassi didn’t do things halfway.
My mother arrived at my house at two in the afternoon, two hours later than she’d told me on the phone last night, wearing a leopard-print wrap dress, four-inch heels, and big gold hoop earrings. Her dark hair was teased high—frozen in place with Aqua Net, no doubt—and her long nails were painted fire-engine red. She looked like she’d just stepped off an old episode of The Real Housewives of New Jersey. She held four big shopping bags in one hand, a pink pastry box from her favorite bakery in Brooklyn in the other— surely filled with cannolis—and tucked under the same arm like an accessory was none other than Chester, her Siamese cat.
“Hi, Mom.” I kissed her cheek, and Chester gave me the side-eye. He was extremely territorial. “Are you moving in? I didn’t realize you were bringing your cat.”
She set down the shopping bags and stroked the top of her feline best friend’s head. “Sorry I’m late. I passed this strip of amazing boutiques, and I couldn’t help myself. I did a little shopping for you.”
“Shopping for me?” Oh no. My mom meant well, but that meant rhinestone belts and animal prints. My taste was simpler and understated.
Wes came out of the kitchen. “Mom, this is Wes Callahan.”
“Hi, Mrs. Ginocassi.” He extended a hand. “It’s nice to—” His words were cut short by a sneeze. Then another. And still a third. He pulled his hand back. “Sorry. I’m a little allergic to…” He sneezed once more. “Cats.”
I raised a brow. “A little? Your eyes are already red and watering.”
Mom put her hand over her heart. “I’m sorry. Everyone usually loves my Chester.”
“It’s fine,” Wes said. “I’ll just go in the other room. It was nice to meet you.”
But Wes lived on my couch, so it wasn’t like he had anywhere to hide. “Why don’t you go into my room?”
“Thanks. Good idea.”
Ten minutes later, I could still hear him sneezing through the door. “We need to leave, Mom. Let’s go to your hotel to hang out.”
“All right.”
I went to my room to let Wes know we’d be relocating. His eyes were now puffy, and he held a ball of wadded-up tissues. “I’m so sorry about this. I had no idea she was bringing her cat.”
He shrugged. “No big deal.”
Even his voice had a wheeze. “Boy, you’re really allergic.”
“The beginning is always the worst part.”
“Well, regardless, we’re going to go to my mom’s hotel. Mom’s bodyguard is out in the car. He can keep an eye on both of us so you can rest.”
Wes shook his head. “You go, I go.”
I sighed. “If you must.”
Outside, Mom’s driver was leaning against their rental car. I’d met Paulie before. He was a mountain of a man, and today was clad in a black leather jacket and mirrored shades. If Mom looked like she belonged on the Housewives, Paulie Distefano looked like he’d walked straight out of Goodfellas.
Great. The neighbors will all be talking. As I approached, he opened the front and rear car doors and nodded. “Ms. Ginocassi.”
“Hi, Paulie. Would you please not refer to me as that here? I go by Grecco now. Even better, call me Juliette.”
He shrugged. “Whatever you want.” Paulie looked to the man standing next to me. “How you doing, Wes?”
“Hanging in there.”
I gestured to the open car door. “I’m going to ride with Wes.”
Wes and I followed behind Mom and Paulie. “I guess you’ve met Paulie before?”
Wes nodded. “A few times. He’s with your father a lot.” He glanced over at me before turning right at my corner. “I’m surprised I’ve never met your mom before. I’ve been to the house a bunch of times.”
“That’s probably because my mother doesn’t live with my father, not in the main house anyway.”
Wes’s brows furrowed. “Where does she live?”
“In the pool house in the yard. My parents have a bizarre relationship.”
“They don’t get along?”
“No, they actually get along really well. But my dad has at least two girlfriends at a time, sometimes more. And my mom is in love with her best friend, who is gay.”
Wes blinked. “Come again?”
I chuckled. “It’s funny, when I’m home it all seems almost normal. But when I say it out loud, I realize it’s not.”
“So your parents have what…an open relationship?”
“I’m not sure what you’d call it. Basically, my mom knows my dad has girlfriends, and she’s okay with it as long as she doesn’t have to see it. But my mom would never cheat on my dad because that’s a sin.”