Page 84 of The Clover Chapel (Jamison Valley 2)
“Nick Slater,” he said.
“Nice to meet you, Nick Slater. I’m Collette Austin,” she said. “This is my fiancé, Alesso Nespola.”
“Fiancé?” I asked, shocked. My mother agreeing to marry Alesso after fifteen years together was news. Page Six news.
“Oh, yes. We’ve finally decided to get married. Another reason for our visit. We need to celebrate!”
“Congratulations, Mom!” I gave her another hug, then turned to Alesso. “I’m so happy for you!” I said as we embraced.
Alesso was younger than my mother by a few years. His black hair was liberally streaked with gray, and the olive skin on his handsome face was creased with laugh lines. He kept himself in good shape but wasn’t bulky. He was Mom’s silver fox.
“Me too,” he said, squeezing me tight. “Sorry we barge in, bella.”
“You’re always welcome. I’m glad to see you both.”
Nick and Alesso excha
nged greetings and I introduced him to Mom’s assistant, Frannie, and chef, Samuel.
The pair had been with my mother for years, long before she’d moved to Italy. Frannie and Samuel were married with no children and were the closest thing I had to an aunt and uncle. When Mom had decided to move with Alesso, I hadn’t been surprised when they’d followed her across the Atlantic.
“Are you going somewhere?” Mom asked when she spotted my suitcases.
I grimaced. The thought of rehashing the break-in stories, both of them, was daunting. I had omitted the first one from our biweekly phone calls and knew she would not be pleased that I had kept it from her.
“Come on into the living room,” I said. “We’ve had a bit of a situation.”
After a brief recap of my troubles, numerous gasps and a thousand questions, we left my house and all drove up to Nick’s.
“I love this place, dear. It’s so comfortable,” Mom said, wandering through the main room. Nick, Alesso, Frannie and Samuel were all in the kitchen, laughing and talking, while the four of them supervised the baking of one pizza.
“I think so too,” I said. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay with us?”
“No. No. No,” she said. “We are not going to put you out. Frannie found us this wonderful rustic chalet for the week and Samuel won’t stop talking about experimenting with Montana bison and trout. It’s all decided.”
“Okay. If I can, I’ll try and find a substitute for the end of the week.”
“No you will not!” she scoffed. “You go to work and shape the minds of the future. Don’t worry about us. Frannie has planned activities to keep us busy all week while you teach. You and Nick can plan to join us for dinner in the evenings and then this weekend we’ll all do something together.”
“Thank you. That sounds wonderful,” I said, grateful that my mom was so supportive of my teaching career.
“What a lovely picture,” she said, lifting up Nick’s photograph of me from Las Vegas.
At some point between my first visit and my return from Italy, Nick had found a frame, and the photo was now front and center on his bookshelf.
“This isn’t recent,” Mom said.
“No. It’s not.”
She gave me a smug grin and continued snooping. “I’m worried, Emmeline. I don’t like the sound of these troubles you’re having. Should I call your father? For all his faults, he did always make sure we were safe. Remember that awful bodyguard we had your senior year? What was his name?”
“Dale. And no, I don’t want Father in the middle of this. I decided when I moved here that I wasn’t going to have someone following me around anymore. I want to live a normal life. Besides, I need some time before I can speak to Father again. When he found out that Logan and I had broken up, he said some things to me that were uncalled for.”
“I’m sorry, dear. I wish I could say I was surprised.” She frowned. “Have you spoken to him lately?”
I shook my head. “No, but I talked to Steffie a few days ago.”
Her eyes swung to mine. “I heard that Alesso and I aren’t the only ones engaged.”
