The Italian's Unexpected Heir Page 5

  And gifts. There were gifts for him. A smile tugged at his lips, knowing people cared that much. There were books, wine from competitors, which were gag gifts, a wall hanging and more. It had been an amazing night. And it was all thanks to Sylvie. Sweet, sweet Sylvie.

  He moved toward her and pulled out a chair from the table. “Here. Have a seat.” When surprise registered in her eyes, he added, “You must be tired after all you did yesterday.”

  She hesitated then she sat. “Just a little tired. Although, I have to admit I was asleep last night as soon as my head hit the pillow.”

  “I bet. You really went above and beyond.” And then he realized to his horror that he’d been so caught off guard last night that he hadn’t thanked her. At least, he couldn’t remember doing it. He sat next to her. “Thank you so much for the party. No one has ever thrown me a surprise party.”

  A smile lit up her face. “You’re welcome. But it wasn’t just me. Everyone chipped in and helped.”

  “But it was your idea and that cake, it was so good. I wanted to have some for breakfast but I couldn’t find where you hid it.”

  “I... I didn’t hide it.” The smile slipped from her face. “I’m sorry. It’s all gone.”

  “I’m not surprised. It was delicious.”

  “I can bake you another one.”

  “Are you kidding?” When he saw the serious look on her face, he said, “I don’t want you to go to all of that trouble.”

  “I would.”

  “I know you would. And I really appreciate it—appreciate you.” Now, what had he gone and added that last part for? It sounded too intimate. Too much like they were involved. Or maybe he was overthinking things. “Let me get you some coffee—”

  “No.” When he turned to her, certain he hadn’t heard her right, she said, “I... I’ll get some later.”

  “Later? Since when don’t you drink coffee as soon as you wake up?”

  She shrugged. “I think I’ve been drinking too much of it. My stomach has been bothering me. So I’m taking a break.”

  “Maybe you’re getting sick.”

  She shook her head. “I feel fine otherwise.”

  His gaze searched hers. What was going on with her? Maybe she’d overdone it yesterday. Or maybe it was stress over the pending sale of the estate.

  Buzz. Buzz.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket. He didn’t want to be interrupted now. He wanted to make sure nothing serious was going on with Sylvie. But when he checked his caller ID, he couldn’t not answer it.

  “Happy birthday,” Bianca said.

  Gia echoed her words.

  “You’re both on here?”

  “Yes,” Bianca said. “We feel awful about missing your birthday.”

  “It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but his pride refused to let him make a big deal of this. “No big deal—”

  “Yes, it is,” Gia said. “We didn’t mean to miss your big day.”

  “But we have something special planned for you.” A giddiness filled Bianca’s voice.

  That didn’t sound good. His sisters and surprises could be a dangerous combination. “You don’t have to do anything special. I’m fine.”

  “Of course we do. Mamma would expect us to do something,” Gia said.

  Silence filled the phone line. He knew that everyone was thinking of their parents and missing them. But at least his sisters had the strength to move on. He had to do that now, too—get away from all of the memories.

  Still, he knew his sisters would keep going on about making a big deal out of his birthday unless he gave them a reason not to. “In fact, Sylvie—” he lifted his gaze, finding that she’d left the veranda, probably to give him some privacy “—planned a big surprise party.”

  Both of his sisters gushed at once and then they started pummeling him with questions about who was there and what had happened during the party. But it was the last question that he stumbled on. Was he involved with Sylvie?

  The word no rushed to the back of his mouth, but then it stuck there. Why was he hesitating? They weren’t involved. Not since Paris.

  “Enzo, are you still there?” Bianca asked.

  “He just doesn’t want us to know what we’ve suspected all along—he’s totally into Sylvie.” Gia’s voice was gleeful.

  “Stop.” His voice came out gruffer than he’d intended. He didn’t need his sisters ganging up on him right now—and certainly not about Sylvie.

  “Woah!” Gia said. “Did we hit a nerve?”

  “Gia,” Bianca said, “I think we better leave it alone.”

  He knew he needed a distraction. And boy, did he have a huge distraction. He’d been putting off telling his sisters that he was selling the estate. He wasn’t sure how they would take the news. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was cause them more pain. Still, they had moved on with their lives. Would the sale be an issue for them? Regardless, he needed to tell them now—before things progressed with the sale.

  Enzo swallowed hard. “There’s something I need to tell you both.”

  “I know,” Bianca said, “you’re getting married.”

  Gia gasped.

  “What? No.” He shook his head. “Where do you two come up with this stuff?”

  “Well,” Gia said, “you are getting older—”

  “Gia,” Bianca said, “it was a rhetorical question.”

  “Oh.”

  He smiled and shook his head. Maybe not everything had changed. His sisters were still acting like the fun, loving sisters he remembered back before the car accident upended all their lives in ways they never could have imagined.

  “Okay, you two. I’m not getting married.” The smile faded from his face. “But I do have something very serious to tell you.”

  An ominous silence fell over them.

  “Are...are you sick?” Gia asked.

  “Not that serious,” he said. This was going all sorts of wrong. He just needed to say it and get it over with. “I’m selling the estate.”

  “What?” came the collective response.

  He gave them a moment to get past the initial shock. He cleared his throat. “When I was in Paris, I was made an offer I can’t turn down.”

  “But you competed against us in order to win the estate,” Gia said.

  “We thought you wanted it,” Bianca said. “What about the vineyard?”

  “What about our family home?” Gia’s voice held disbelief.

  He hadn’t been sure how they would take the news, but he didn’t think he’d have to defend himself. “Seeing as both of you have moved away—far away—I didn’t think you’d care what happened to the estate.”

  “We care,” Gia said.

  Another strained silence filled the line.

  “But we care about you more,” Bianca said.

  “Bianca?” Gia said. “You surely can’t want to part with our childhood home.”

  “What I want and for that matter what you want, doesn’t matter. We picked our futures. It’s time to let our brother do what’s right for him.”

  He should say something, anything, but he wasn’t sure what that should be. He loved his sisters and he didn’t want to do anything to upset them. Would they understand that he just couldn’t stay here? He couldn’t have a daily reminder of his failures in life.

  “I’m sorry,” Gia said. “Bianca’s right. You were always there for us. We’ll support whatever decision you make. But are you really sure you want to do this?”

  This time there was no hesitation. “I’m sure.”

  “But where will you go?”

  “What will you do?”

  His sisters peppered him with questions and though he had work to do, he indulged them. After all, they were taking this news really well. And if answering all their questions—questions that di
dn’t pertain to Sylvie—made them feel better, he could do that for them.

  By the time he hung up the phone, an entire hour had passed. Before he headed to the vineyard, he wanted to say something to Sylvie. He found her in the kitchen, finishing a glass of fresh-squeezed spremuta and a roll with butter and jam. He was relieved to see the color in her cheeks and that she had an appetite.

  “Sorry about that,” he said. “It was my sisters.”

  “No problem. I just wanted to give you some space.” She placed her plate and juice glass in the sink. “And now I have to finalize some details for a wedding this weekend.”

  “Ah, sure. I need to get to work, too.”

  “I’ll talk to you later.”

  With that, she was gone and he was left alone with his thoughts. His sisters said they were okay with the sale, but he had to wonder if that was the truth. And Sylvie was being so nice to him—too nice. What was up with that?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SO WHAT HAD his sisters said?

  Sylvie was dying to know if he’d told them about the sale of the estate, but she resisted questioning him because it wasn’t her business. But that didn’t keep her from wondering if they thought it was as big a mistake as she did. Would they be her allies?

  Well, obviously not. Because there was no way she was going to wedge herself between the siblings—even if Bianca was a friend, a good friend. No, this was a battle she was going to have to wage on her own.

  And it didn’t help that Enzo kept doing one thing after another to surprise her—like at the party last night. In the beginning, he hadn’t been overly enthused by it. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if he’d stay for it. But as time went by, he started to eat the food, talk to the guests, and by the end of the evening he was laughing and smiling. Who’d have imagined?

  So the first part of her plan was a success; now she just had to keep going. She had to keep finding ways to remind Enzo what was important about this place. And so far she had no plan of action for today. Worst of all, the day was almost over.

  They’d just finished dinner, which they’d shared since they were the only two staying at the estate. They’d agreed that in order to make it fair, one would cook and the other would clean up—though they both always seemed to share cleanup duty.

  Tonight Sylvie was washing the pans, and Enzo was drying, when the front door chimed. They both turned to each other with a puzzled look on their faces.

  Sylvie was the first to speak. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

  “Neither am I.” Enzo set aside the pan and towel.

  As he headed for the door, Sylvie dried off her hands. They didn’t get a lot of visitors at the estate now that the hotel was closed. Curiosity got the best of her and she turned for the front door.

  She rushed to catch up with Enzo. But with his long legs and swift strides, she didn’t have a chance to catch him before he reached the door. So she hung back. After all, this wasn’t her home—not really. And soon she’d have to move—whether she wanted to or not.

  She stood in the hallway as Enzo swung the door open. What—ahem, or should she say who—stood there was surprising, to say the least. A clown.

  Like a real clown with curly, fire engine-red hair that poked out in all directions and a little black boiler hat on top. In his hand was a fistful of red ribbons leading to at least two dozen helium balloons. His face was painted white with his eyes outlined in black. And red paint had his mouth painted into a permanent smile.

  When Sylvie realized her mouth was gaping she pushed her lips together, but they immediately bowed up into a smile as laughter bubbled up inside her. What in the world?

  The clown wore a red jumper of sorts with a big lace collar.

  Before Enzo could speak, because obviously he was having problems making sense of what he was seeing, the clown broke out into a rendition of the birthday song topped off with a little dance. Sylvie couldn’t hold back her amusement. This was just too much.

  Apparently, her laughter came out louder than she’d hoped because Enzo turned to her and frowned. His grumpy scowl just made her laugh that much harder. Whoever did this had definitely caught him off guard. And then she realized who would have done this. His sisters.

  Sylvie reached for her phone in her pocket and started recording. The clown danced around, sang and then bowed at the end.

  Enzo didn’t say a word. The clown looked at him expectantly. Enzo stood as though he’d turned to stone. He really needed to lighten up.

  Hoping to defuse the situation, Sylvie rushed forward to stand next to Enzo. She applauded the clown, who handed over the balloons to Enzo.

  “Wait,” the clown said, “there’s one more thing.”

  The clown rushed back to his car. Yes, it was a little clown car with a black top hat, different-colored spots all over it and a big red nose on the hood. It was quite... She couldn’t find the right word, so she settled for unusual. Sylvie wasn’t even sure how the man fit in the car.

  “Did you do this?” Enzo’s voice rumbled with unhappiness.

  “Oh, no.” She held up her hands as she shook her head. But the smile just wouldn’t fade from her face. This was priceless. “I had absolutely nothing to do with it. I’m innocent. I swear.”

  As soon as he absorbed what she’d told him, she saw the flicker of light go on in his eyes. “My sisters. They did this.”

  “That would be my guess.”

  His scowl darkened. “Wait until I see them again.”

  “You’ll what?” She knew it was an empty threat. He loved his sisters dearly.

  She’d always longed to be a part of a bigger family. She wanted at least a sister. Someone to style hair with and paint their nails. It would have been amazing to have someone to grow up with—to share the good and the bad.

  Instead, it was just her and her mother. Thank goodness they had good friends and neighbors. But it wasn’t quite the same as having brothers and sisters of her own—not to mention a father. A pang of sorrow settled in her chest.

  And now, after observing Enzo and his sisters, she couldn’t help but envy their closeness, the way they teased each other and the way they pulled together. It was special. And sometimes she wondered if Enzo realized just how special a relationship he had with his sisters. Sylvie would give anything to have just a little part of that family camaraderie.

  Before Enzo could answer, the clown returned with a white box. “This is for you. I hope you have a happy birthday.”

  “It’s not my birthday,” Enzo said grumpily.

  The clown’s forehead scrunched up. He shrugged, turned and walked away.

  Enzo closed the door. “When my sisters said they had something special planned, I had no idea they’d go this far.”

  Sylvie lightly elbowed him. “Lighten up. They just wanted to make you smile. Not scowl like you’re doing now.”

  “I’m not scowling.” His brows were still drawn together as his lips pressed into a firm line.

  “Really?” She arched a brow at him as she smiled.

  “I’m not.” He attempted a smile but it didn’t work out. The disgruntled look on his face only succeeded in sending her into another fit of giggles. Immediately, his frown returned.

  It took her a moment or two to gather herself. “So what’s in the box?”

  He glanced down at the white box in his hand as though he’d totally forgotten. He let go of all the balloons when he went to open the box. Both of their heads lifted as the balloons sailed up and up in the two-story foyer.

  “Great.” Enzo frowned at them. “Now, how am I supposed to get those down?”

  “You aren’t. They’ll come down in time.” She studied him as he stared up at the balloons. “You did get helium balloons as a kid, didn’t you?”

  He shook his head. “No balloons. Just a nice dinner, cake and a couple of presents.�
��

  Sylvie couldn’t believe she had something over on him. Her mother had planned themed birthday parties with balloons and hats and whatever else she could think of. Enzo might have had the big, loving family that she’d always wanted, but her mother had doted on her and given her other special memories that she hadn’t thought of in a very long time.

  “What?” Enzo was studying her.

  “Um, nothing. I was just remembering my birthdays from when I was a kid.”

  “What were they like?”

  She shrugged. “My mother would invite all of the local kids and she’d always have a theme. One year it was jungle animals. She would have games and little prizes. Nothing that cost much but just enough to make the kids feel special.”

  “Those sound like some good memories.”

  “They are. And thank you for helping me to remember.” But she didn’t want to dwell on the past and all that she’d lost since then. “So what’s in the box?”

  She moved over next to him as he lifted the lid. They both peered inside to find a beautiful cake. The background was white frosting but the decorations were deep purple flowers, hunter green leaves and a gold vine winding its way around the cake as though it was some sort of wreath.

  She couldn’t help but think of the vineyard when she looked at the cake. Sylvia wondered if his sisters had picked the decorations out intentionally. Of course, there weren’t any grapes or barrels, but the color scheme with the purple flowers and green leaves on a vine certainly resembled the vineyard. She couldn’t help but wonder if Bianca and Gia were sending their brother a message. Were they gently urging him to keep the estate?

  Sylvie’s gaze moved to Enzo. His scowl had softened. In fact, there was a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He liked the cake? And the reminder of the vineyard that he was selling?

  She glanced back at the cake and then realized she’d missed the rest of the decoration. In the center of the cake in purple frosting was scrolled out To The Best Brother.

  “Aww...” Sylvie smiled. “That’s so sweet.”

  “But so not true.” He closed the box.