leather seat. Surely she had to be jet-lagged and reading too much into his reserved demeanor and hesitant words. Perhaps she needed to be more direct. “Will you try and stop the wedding?”
Jules studied his handsome face with its aristocratic features for some indication of his thoughts. Because there was no way she’d let anyone come between Lizzie and her happiness. Over the years, when they’d fantasized about the future, Lizzie had always dreamed of meeting Mr. Right. But neither of them had ever invested much hope in those dreams. Until now. This was Lizzie’s chance to live out her dream.
Though that meant breaking up their small family and the thought saddened Jules, she refused to dwell on it. Lizzie’s happiness had to be the priority. And on a positive note, this meant Jules would at last gain her freedom to make all her own choices. They’d been making decisions together since they were kids, but now it was time they each stood on their own. And for Jules that meant making her own career choice—one Lizzie wouldn’t approve of.
And if Jules was ready to see her foster sister—her only family—move an ocean away so that she would be happy, what possible reason could Stefano find to object to the wedding? Or was she reading him wrong? It was so hard to tell—his tanned face wasn’t giving her any clues about his thoughts.
“I’m waiting for an explanation.” She crossed her arms. No way was she going to drop the subject until they sorted it out.
“Fine. I’ll admit it. I’m not a fan of marriage.”
“This particular marriage? Or just marriage in general?” She could have sworn that Lizzie had mentioned he was married. Maybe that was it. Maybe he and his wife had hit a rough patch. “Aren’t you married?”
“I was.” His knuckles on the steering wheel gleamed white. “She died.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Great job, Jules. Talk about opening your mouth and inserting your size-six boot.
“And for the record, it’s not my place to say whether the wedding should go on or not. My brother has a mind of his own.”
“Good.” She settled back against the smoky-gray leather seat. “I don’t want anything ruining this wedding for them.” She gave him a pointed look, but Stefano didn’t give her the satisfaction of looking her way. “We have a lot to plan between now and next spring or summer. Have they mentioned to you if they’ve picked a date?”
“No. But it sounded to me like it is going to be sooner than next year.”
“They can’t move up the wedding. That would be a nightmare. There’s just too much to arrange. Besides, if they were doing something like that, they’d have told us. After all, you’re the best man.”
Stefano sighed. “I suppose I am. But that just means they’ll tell me when and where to show up.”
“You really think you’ll get off that easily?”
“Why wouldn’t I? Men don’t care about all of that stuff. Weddings are for women.”
“We’ll see about that.” Did he really believe that? Was he that jaded? Or was it grief over losing his wife?
“I guess we will.”
She pressed her lips firmly together. She’d been in Rome less than an hour. It wouldn’t do to wage war with Lizzie’s future brother-in-law.
Jules inhaled a deep, calming breath and noticed the very fine automobile had a wonderful new car scent. Her gaze strayed to the dash, where Stefano’s long, lean fingers were adjusting the controls on a large touch screen. Soon the velvet sounds of an Italian baritone replaced the oppressive silence.
She leaned her head back and turned to the window. She took in the golden glow of the sun over the city. People were out and about—neighbors filling each other in on the events of the day. Children were running around laughing and playing. Jules smiled, liking what she’d seen so far.
She couldn’t believe that she was truly in Italy. Her friends back at the New York City coffee shop where she worked were never going to believe this. She’d definitely have to get lots of photos before catching her flight in a week.
When the car pulled to a stop, Stefano turned to her. “We’re here.”
So this was Ristorante Massimo.
Jules stared out the window at the line of patio tables with red umbrellas. And the double red doors with large brass handles that led to the dining area. This was where her sister had lost her heart—this was where Lizzie intended to spend the rest of her life.
The breath caught in Jules’s throat. She might at last be gaining her freedom, but at what cost? She blinked repeatedly. She’d told herself the whole flight here that she wouldn’t melt into a sobbing mess.
A hand pressed against her shoulder. “Julianne...um, Jules, are you okay?”
She nodded and blinked, tucking her emotions into that trusty box she’d been using since the days of being shuttled in and out of foster homes. She swallowed down the lump in her throat, hoping that when she spoke her voice wouldn’t waver. “I’m fine.”
“Why don’t you go inside? I’m sure Lizzie is anxious to see you. I’ll grab your luggage and meet you in there.”
She agreed and made her way inside. The restaurant was quite large, and a wall of photos was the first thing to grab her attention. There were framed photos of various sizes and all manner of frames starting at the ceiling and trailing down to the floor. As she passed by, she noticed some famous faces. Wow! This place must be really upscale.
“Jules, is that you?” Lizzie came rushing toward her.
In no time, they were wrapped in each other’s arms. It felt so good to be with her sister again. They both started to talk at once. It wasn’t until they glanced around and saw Dante and Stefano observing them with amusement dancing in their eyes that both women realized their lack of manners.
Lizzie stepped in the middle of everyone. “Jules, I’d like you to meet Dante, my future husband. Dante, this is my sister, Julianne, but everyone calls her Jules.”
“Hello, Jules.”
“Hi.” When she went to hold her hand out to him to shake, he pulled her forward and gave her a big hug.
She hesitated at first. This wasn’t the sort of greeting she was accustomed to. It certainly wasn’t the sort of greeting she’d received from Stefano. When Dante let her go, she gazed up at him. He was almost as tall as Stefano. But he wasn’t nearly as disarmingly handsome as his older brother.
“Don’t frown at me,” Dante said lightly. “We’re family and you’ll soon find that the DeFiores are huggers.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
From what Lizzie had told her most of the family lived outside the city on a vineyard. Too bad there wouldn’t be time to visit, but Jules didn’t want to overstay her welcome or crowd the lovebirds. Her mission was to check out the groom, catch up with Lizzie and get wedding details—lots of details. It was never too soon to plan the perfect wedding, and Lizzie deserved no less.
“Let’s go upstairs and get you settled.” Lizzie started for the front door of the restaurant.
“Where exactly are we going?” Jules asked, looking around and trying to get her bearings.
Dante spoke up. “There are apartments above the restaurant. And the entrance is outside.”
“Sounds good. We can get started right away on the wedding plans. We don’t have time to waste.” Jules grabbed for her purse. Before she could reach for her carry-on, Stefano had it in hand. She turned back and followed Lizzie out the door. “Do you have a date picked out? Say, next spring? Or summer?”
“That’s what we wanted to talk to you about.” There was hesitation in Lizzie’s voice.
Jules’s