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CHAPTER TWO

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At her house, Chrissy dove onto her bed and wished she could disappear. How had one moment gone so horribly wrong? She closed her eyes tighter and screamed into her pillow when she realized she’d left Saks stranded at the diner with the two worst men in the world. She groaned at her thoughtlessness then became mad at herself for caring. He had the nerve to accuse her of stalking him? Of targeting him for seduction? What the hell?

And Saks was the Rocco they wanted her to marry? Well, clearly, that was never happen.

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the outrageous situation. For Saks to think she was a femme fatale who aimed to lure him into marriage was utterly ridiculous. And the way he talked about her family. You damned Serafinis will do anything to get what you want. Infuriating.

And true, too.

Chrissy groaned, unable to get a grasp on a decent thread of emotion on the situation. One minute she hooked up with handsome, sexy, and oh-so-good-in-bed Saks, and the next she’d dumped a plate of Eggs Benedict on his head. That after kneeing him in the crotch the night before and slapping him in the face.

Chrissy had to admit it. She’d erupted into a one-woman demolition derby of love.

She groaned again and hot tears welled in her eyes.

Damn. She was not going to cry. No way.

Yet here she was. Crying. And once she admitted that fact, the tears poured out so fast she gasped for breath.

How did she get herself into this? All she wanted was to work a good job, make her own money, and put it away in a nice, tidy 401K to buy her own house. She wanted to find a nice, respectable man who made three figures to have 2.4 children with in a very nice suburb with superb schools.

But noooooooo. She had to fall into bed with a biker, a motorcycle mechanic, for goodness’ sake, who turned out to be—ta-da—the nephew of her grandfather’s fiercest rival.

“Oh, for shit’s sake,” Chrissy muttered. She lifted her head and saw her mascara smudged against the sheets. She’d managed to make her life more of mess than mascara on her sheets because she’d jumped into bed with a perfect stranger.

A stranger perfect for her in all the wrong ways, and none of the right ones. She had no business being with Saks, not if she wanted the life she’d carefully worked for.

Chrissy sat up, sniffled, and because she had nothing else to lose wiped her face with her pillow case. She pushed her hair out of her eyes. The sharp tone of her phone ringing captured her attention. Still snuffling her nose, Chrissy slung her purse onto the bed and fished for it. “Hello!”

“Christina.” Mom.

She cringed. Why hadn’t she checked the call waiting? Hoping it was Saks wasn’t going to make him call. “Yes, Mom.”

“What’s wrong?”

The defense department should contract her mother’s emotional radar. “Nothing.” Chrissy tried not to sniff.

“Christina Maria Serafini, don’t you lie to your mother.”

It was better to get it out in the open, or at least enough of the truth so her mother would back off. Otherwise, the woman would keep investigating until she got the whole truth. “I met the Rocco man.”

“Oh,” her mother said noncommittally. “And what was he like?”

“He belongs to a motorcycle club, Mama,” she burst out. Okay, apparently she wasn’t above drama to horrify her mother. Her mother despised the idiots who rode with wheels between their legs.

“And your grandfather knew this?”

“I’m going to go with yes,” replied Chrissy. “He saw us at the diner this morning.”

“The diner?” asked her mother with suspicion. Uh-oh. Now she had her mother thinking in the wrong directions. Now she’d roused her mother’s suspicion as to why she’d eat at a diner with a man first thing in the morning.

“He took me to church.” Chrissy tried to repair the damage of her earlier statement, but saw immediately she’d made things worse in another way.

“Well, that can’t be bad. What church did you go to?”

“A church in Westfield. I forget which one.”

“Oh, and did the priest recognize him?”

Chrissy held back a groan. This next statement would be worse than the last. “Yes, he did. I guess Saks’ boss’ wife goes there regularly.”

“Oh,” said her mother brightly. “Then they’re part of the community there.”

Now, inadvertently, she’d built up Saks’ reputation.

“What?” her mother said. But she was speaking to someone else, and Chrissy heard her father’s voice. She couldn’t catch his words, but they came across in an ominous rumble. “She didn’t,” her mother said in a horrified voice.

“Christina Maria Serafini!” snapped her mother. “You dumped your breakfast on the Rocco man’s head?”

“You don’t know what he said. He was horrible.”

“And what could he say, huh, that would make you act like a punta?”

Chrissy gasped. Her mother never swore, and it shocked her that her mother called her a whore in Italian. “You take that back,” shot Chrissy angrily. “You weren’t there and didn’t hear the things he said. When he found out I was Pandolfo Serafini’s granddaughter—”

“Wait. He took you to church, and he didn’t know who you were? Just when did you meet this man, Christina?”

“I, uh, I—”

“Don’t you dare lie to your mother!”

“I wasn’t lying. He took me church, but he said awful things. He said...”

Her mother’s voice rose in distress. “You slapped the man and then struck him in the groin? Oh, my goodness, what have I done to deserve such an ungrateful child?”

Chrissy jerked the phone away from her ear. “Now, to be fair, that didn’t happen all at one time.”

“How many times, Christina? How many times did you abuse this man? Mamma Mia, Matrona—

“Rose, calm down,” said her father in the background.

“Calm down? Calm down? My daughter beats up a man and you tell me to calm down?”

Oh, man. Now they’d done it. Her mother was a sweet woman most times, but when she went off, Rosa Serafini was a force of nature. Here comes Hurricane Rose.

And then she remembered what her sister said about her father’s heart. Her father didn’t need stress, and this was her fault. “Mama, please. I’m sorry. Please, please, stop yelling.”

“Christina, how can you embarrass the family like this?”

At that moment, Gloria walked into the apartment and toward Christina’s room. Great. The last thing she needed was her sister’s commentary. “Mama, please. Think of Papa’s heart.”

Rose Serafini stopped her tirade immediately. “Who told you that? Never mind. Just be here for dinner tonight so we can get this straightened out.”

Fabulous. A family dinner. With her at the center of attention. “Of course, Mama. I’ll be there.”

Without saying goodbye, her mother clicked off the phone. Chrissy was in for it now. Her mother was rarely so angry that she would forget to say goodbye, and ‘I love you’.

She’d probably just earned the worst daughter in the world medal.

And none of it was her fault.

Okay, losing her temper was her fault. But how much could she take?

“What’s going on?” Gloria asked.

“Nothing. Hey, what’re you doing here?”

“Getting clothes. I’m staying at Marcus’ tonight. He’s waiting for me in the car. So, give. What’s going on?”

“As if you didn’t know. I’m sure Marcus told you all about it.”

“No. He didn’t. Why did Mama yell at you over the phone?”

“Because Saks and I had a fight at the diner.”

“Fight?”

“The kind where I dumped my breakfast on his head.”

Gloria said with her eyes opened wide. “You did?”

“Why does everyone keep bringing that up!??” Chrissy exploded at her sister, worked up from her mother yelling at her, and the ridiculous day she had.

“Did you sleep with him?”

“Excuse me?! Now I’m a whore?”

“Whoa, wait a minute, sis. You aren’t like that. Until Saks, you had the longest dry spell of anyone.”

“Gee, thanks. I’m not sure whether to be complimented or insulted.”

Before Gloria could reply, the whine of a car trying to start hit the air. Normally Chrissy wouldn’t think twice about it, but then she remembered the beater car Saks had driven here earlier. The thing looked as if it would fall apart any second. She looked out the window and found her suspicions confirmed.

“Oh no,” said Chrissy.

“What?”

“He’s here.”

“Who?”

“Saks.”