Chapter 7 - LUCA MET EMMA’S MOTHER
Dating Luca Moretti was inconvenient.
Emma learned that quickly.
Restaurants overreacted.
Managers appeared.
Tables materialized.
Chefs sent food nobody ordered.
One owner tried to comp the bill.
Emma handed it back.
“Charge us.”
The owner looked at Luca.
Luca said:
“You heard her.”
Progress.
Second date was worse.
A gallery opening.
Three women stared at Emma long enough to become physically exhausting.
One whispered:
“That’s her?”
Emma heard.
Luca did too.
He started toward them.
Emma caught his sleeve.
“Rule.”
He stopped.
“Which?”
“My fight.”
His jaw tightened.
“Fine.”
Emma walked over.
“Hi.”
The women froze.
Emma smiled.
“You were wondering if I’m her.”
One turned red.
“I’m sorry.”
“Yes.”
Emma nodded.
“I am.”
Then walked away.
Luca stared.
“What?”
“That’s all?”
“What did you want, duel?”
“Possibly.”
“Exhausting.”
They became easier slowly.
Not simple.
Luca still defaulted to solving.
Emma still defaulted to refusing before hearing.
They learned.
Then her mother invited Luca to Sunday dinner.
Emma panicked.
Luca did not.
That was suspicious.
“You understand my mother lives in Queens.”
“Yes.”
“In a normal apartment.”
“Yes.”
“She will ask invasive questions.”
“Yes.”
“She does not care about your reputation.”
“Excellent.”
“She once told a priest his homily needed editing.”
Luca paused.
“Concerning.”
Emma’s mother, Judith Carter, was sixty-two, retired from a public school cafeteria, and unimpressed by men in expensive coats.
She opened the door.
Looked Luca up and down.
“You’re thinner than television.”
Emma closed her eyes.
“Mom.”
Luca smiled.
“Good evening.”
“Shoes off.”
He looked at Emma.
She smiled sweetly.
Outside house rules.
Not his.
He removed shoes.
Nico nearly died in the hallway.
Dinner was pot roast.
Mashed potatoes.
Green beans.
No luxury.
Judith asked:
“What do you do?”
Emma stared.
“Mom.”
“What? Officially.”
Luca answered:
“Shipping. Hospitality. Real estate.”
Judith nodded.
“And unofficially?”
Silence.
Emma closed her eyes.
Luca looked at Judith.
“Things I would not recommend.”
She considered.
“Honest.”
Then:
“You ever hurt my daughter?”
Emma nearly dropped her fork.
“Mom.”
Luca’s expression became serious.
“Not intentionally.”
Bad answer.
Judith stared.
He corrected.
“I’ve put her in danger through poor judgment.”
Better.
“What did you do?”
Emma intervened.
“Can we not conduct federal testimony over potatoes?”
Judith ignored her.
Luca explained.
Fake relationship.
Family politics.
Threats.
Not criminal details beyond necessary.
Judith listened.
Then looked at Emma.
“You agreed to this?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Recommendation.”
Judith stared.
“For a job?”
“Yes.”
“Girl.”
Emma sighed.
“I know.”
Then Judith looked at Luca.
“You let her risk herself for matchmaking relief?”
Luca nodded.
“Yes.”
“Stupid.”
“Yes.”
Emma stared.
Luca continued.
“Very.”
Judith nodded.
“Good.”
Apparently confession was currency.
After dinner, Judith pulled Luca into the kitchen alone.
Emma tried to listen.
Her mother shut the door.
Rude.
Judith folded dish towels.
“You love her?”
Luca went still.
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
That surprised him.
Judith nodded.
“Does she know?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I want her to choose without pressure.”
Judith looked at him.
“Good.”
Then:
“You know she thinks her size makes people think she should be grateful for attention.”
Luca’s face changed.
“No.”
“Of course you don’t.”
Judith folded another towel.
“Men either ignore women like Emma or fetishize them, then act like desire is generosity.”
Luca felt something unpleasant settle in his chest.
Camille’s words.
A man like Luca look twice at a woman like you.
The insult worked because culture had prepared the ground.
“Does Emma believe that?”
“She believes she’s smart enough not to.”
Judith looked at him.
“Those aren’t the same thing.”
Luca nodded slowly.
“What should I do?”
Judith smiled faintly.
“Nothing dramatic.”
He looked offended.
“Apparently everyone knows.”
“She does not need you announcing she’s beautiful like you discovered a rare species.”
Luca almost laughed.
“She needs consistency.”
“Meaning?”
“Do not make her feel chosen in private and embarrassing in public.”
That landed.
“Never.”
“Do not hide her when old family friends stare.”
“Never.”
“Do not turn her into proof you’re modern.”
His face hardened.
“I wouldn’t.”
“Good.”
Judith continued.
“And if you love her, do not rush her because you spent forty years learning patience badly.”
“I’m thirty-nine.”
“Same face.”
Luca laughed.
Emma heard from the other room.
That worried her.
On the drive home, she asked:
“What did Mom say?”
“Classified.”
“I hate you.”
“No.”
She stared out the window.
Then:
“She likes you.”
“Terrible judgment.”
Emma smiled.
Weeks passed.
Luca attended one of Emma’s hotel operations presentations.
Sat in the back.
No introduction.
She did not know until afterward.
“What are you doing here?”
“Watching.”
“Why?”
“You’re good.”
Her face warmed.
“Stop.”
“No.”
She rolled her eyes.
Then he handed her nothing.
No flowers.
No gift.
Just:
“You handled the labor forecast better than Adrian does.”
She laughed.
“Now that’s romance.”
He smiled.
Then kissed her.
First time.
No audience.
No grandmother.
No political value.
Just hotel hallway after a presentation about staffing.
Emma kissed him back.
Then pulled away.
“That was not warned.”
His face changed instantly.
“You’re right.”
She stared.
He meant it.
“I’m sorry.”
Emma thought.
Then smiled.
“I’ll allow retroactive warning this once.”
He laughed.
Good.
Three months later, Emma was promoted at Halston.
Not because Luca called.
He didn’t.
Her director told her:
“You have stronger floor-level experience than anyone else applying.”
Assistant director of operations.
Real.
She called Luca.
“I got it.”
He went quiet.
Then:
“I’m proud of you.”
That mattered more than expensive flowers.
He still sent flowers later.
Forty-dollar grocery-store sunflowers.
Judith’s advice had spread apparently.
Emma loved them.
Then Teresa invited both of them to dinner.
Real relationship known now.
No pretending.
At dessert, Teresa said:
“So when are you getting married?”
Emma and Luca said together:
“No.”
Teresa smiled.
“Excellent. You’ve become synchronized.”
Emma looked at Luca.
He looked back.
Then smiled.
Dangerous.
Not because he had a plan.
Because for the first time, Emma realized she did.
Maybe not now.
Maybe someday.
May you like
And the idea no longer felt like losing something.
It felt like choosing.
