The Rival Roomies Read online

  He stops in his tracks, soaking in everything that’s happening. He probably wishes he could turn around and leave. This is a clusterfuck and Dom is not a patient clusterfuck kind of person.

  As I leave a message, Gia stomps, and when I say stomp, I mean she could probably be a cast member in Stomp. Lulu is still dripping amniotic fluid. Dom is holding an iced coffee I’m pretty sure is for me and a small bag from the bakery I love.

  I have no chance to reach him and talk to him before Lulu’s voice booms through the studio. “DOMINIC MANCINI.”

  He smirks. He and Lulu have an unusual relationship, one born of hate and respect. Like two African lions fighting over a lioness.

  “LUCIA MILANO.”

  They stare one another down for a moment.

  “The baby is ruining everything,” Gia whines.

  “He’s your brother. Nonna will bring you to the recital. She can’t wait to see you.” Lulu attempts to put a positive spin on the situation, but I know Gia well enough to know that there’s going to be a giant guilt trip that will probably cost Lulu a pretty penny at the American Girl store.

  “Whatever.” Gia stomps out past Dom.

  His gaze follows her. “Talk about a mini-me.”

  “Jealous?” Lulu walks up to him. “You could’ve had your own by now, but oh that’s right, you don’t want marriage and kids.” She’s sneering at him, and I roll my eyes.

  He scoffs. “Who would want a mini-me?”

  I want to raise my hand, but I smartly keep it at my side.

  Lulu snaps her fingers. “That would be no one. Could you imagine a kid walking around making deals and counting his money in a suit?” Her eyes trail down his body. “Are you breaking out in hives without the high silk content of your professionally tailored suit jacket?”

  Oh, Lulu. You just can’t help yourself. It’s Saturday, so he’s in shorts and a V-neck T-shirt, but he still looks handsome as always. I suppress a grin.

  He stares at her stomach. “You’re having twins? I didn’t know.”

  Shit, below the belt, Mancini.

  Lulu jabs him in the arm. “Fucker. I’d like to see you carry this around for nine months. You’re not man enough.”

  “True. I’m more than thankful the women get that job.”

  Lulu’s eyes narrow. There’s no love lost right now, and I need to get her out of here before she has that kid on my expensive vinyl dance floor.

  “Sorry, Dom, Lulu’s water broke. We need to get her to the hospital,” I interrupt.

  His gaze shoots to the floor and back to me. I nod, and he jumps back a step.

  “It’s not contagious.” Lulu waddles out of the studio after Gia.

  “Do you want me to go with you?” he asks, concern in his tone.

  I almost laugh, but I hold it in. “If you want, but I can handle it. Is that for me?” I eye the bakery bag and iced coffee.

  He holds them out. “You didn’t eat this morning, and I know how you can be when there’s a performance. One of these days, you’re going to pass out.”

  I smile at him.

  The door opens, and Lulu steps back in with Gia’s hand in hers. “Hello! Let’s go!” Then she looks at me and shakes her head. “Don’t look at him like that.” She steps farther in and plucks the bakery bag out of my hand. “I need this because I won’t be able to eat once I get to the hospital.” She opens the bag to inspect the contents and smiles. “Sorry, Val, it’s your favorite chocolate coconut cupcake. I’ll repay you.”

  “Cupcake!” Gia screams. “I want one.”

  “Ask the big guy. Who only brings one cupcake?”

  Gia walks over to Dom, and he stares at me as if he’s asking me what to say. I shrug.

  “I know I’m pretty lax, but I’m like a leaking faucet over here,” Lulu says.

  “Oh, right.” I take Gia’s hand. “I’ll take you for a treat after the hospital.”

  Gia throws her head back and her body goes limp. “He’s ruining my life. First, my recital and now I can’t get a cupcake.”

  I pull, but she digs her heels into the floor.

  “Gia,” Lulu says. “Let’s go.”

  “I want a cupcake!”

  I blow out a breath and stare at Dom. Why didn’t he bring two?

  Lulu hands the bag to her. “Here.”

  Now I’ve had it.

  “No.” I snatch it before Gia can and hand it back to Lulu. “You’re eating the cupcake.”

  “Auntie Val!” Gia yells, and Dom rears back again.

  “Gia, your mom is about to have a baby. You can eat something at Nonna’s. If you’re really good, I’ll go to the cupcake shop and pick you up one after. That’s the end of the discussion. Go outside with your mom. We’re going to drop you off, then we’re going to the hospital. I don’t want to hear one more word from you.”

  Gia tries to intimidate me with mean-spirited eyes, but I stand my ground and she stomps out of the studio again.

  “Okay, so I’m gonna tag you in for all mother duties for a bit.” Lulu laughs and looks at Dom. “Is she this bossy in bed?” Without waiting for an answer, she walks out.

  “Are you coming?” I ask.

  Dom’s face is white, but he surprises me when he says, “You go to the hospital. I’ll take Gia to Lulu’s parent’s. Same house?”

  I nod. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, then I’ll meet you at the hospital after. What else do you need? Do you need clothes for tonight?”

  I shake my head, a calmness coming over me. He’s willing to put himself in an uncomfortable situation for me. Oh, Dom, why can’t we make this work? “Thank you.”

  His hand is about to touch my cheek as his lips descend, but the door opens.

  “Hello. Baby.” Lulu points at her stomach and the door shuts again.

  “Go,” he whispers.

  We walk out of my studio, and for the first time in a long time, it feels as though we’re a united front, a team.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Dominic

  * * *

  Lulu is scary, but Gia is downright frightening.

  She sits next to me in the taxi, seat-belted in, her feet hanging off the seat, still pushing her agenda. “We could go to the cupcake place now.”

  “No, we’re going to your Nonna’s place.”

  When I made the trek to Brooklyn to bring Val something, I’d hoped for a heavy make-out session in her office. Not to be escorting the daughter of the woman who hates me to her grandmother’s house.

  “What’s your name again?” she asks, crossing her arms. Her pink-and-black dance outfit is cute, but she screams attitude, just like her mother did at her age.

  “Dom.”

  “Dominic Mancini?”

  I glance at her, away from my phone, where Val keeps sending apologetic text messages. “How do you know that?”

  Her eyes narrow. “My mom and Auntie Val talk about you a lot.”

  “What do they say?” I tuck my phone away. Now I’m interested in what this little fireball has to say.

  There’s a bakery at the corner right before Gia’s grandmother’s house. They might not have cupcakes, but they have cookies. I lean forward and instruct the cab driver to stop one block up.

  “You make Auntie Val cry. Why?”

  Shit. My shoulders sag and I run a hand through my hair. “I don’t know why she’d cry about me.” I do actually, but it depends how recent we’re talking.

  “They were arguing about you. Right before the baby ruined my day.”

  “Was Val crying then?”

  The taxi stops at the corner and Gia looks out the window. “This isn’t Nonna’s.”

  “There’s a bakery. I’ll buy you a cookie.”

  She slides out after me, and I pay the cab driver through the passenger window.

  “Are you Italian?” she asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why did you only buy one cupcake? Italians buy things in dozens, so everyone has one.” She strolls
into the bakery as though she owns the place and didn’t just school me on Italian manners.

  She’s right though. I should’ve brought Val an entire dozen cupcakes. One thing is for certain—if I’d done that, I wouldn’t be at a bakery with an eight-year-old right now.

  We walk up to the cashier and she smiles at Gia. Don’t be fooled, woman. “How can I help you?”

  “A dozen cookies,” Gia informs her with her face pressed to the glass.

  The woman gives me a questioning look and I nod. I’ve learned my lesson.

  I wait as Gia points out the cookies she wants, instructing the woman down to the specific cookie in the row of identical cookies. The girl explains that there’s a mistake on one and the colors are prettier on another. She’s so much like Lucia when she was younger, I feel as though I’m twenty-five years younger and it’s her in front of me. Thank God that woman has mellowed over the years.

  “Nonna is gonna love them.” Gia beams at me as I pay for the cookies.

  She grabs the bag and waves to a boy she must know from school. He’s sitting with his mother at one of the small tables.

  We walk down the block, past the houses of my childhood friends. It’s crazy how small town a borough of New York can feel, but some parts of Carroll Gardens make me feel so welcome, I wonder why I was so hellbent on getting the hell out of here.

  “So, are you excited to have a baby brother or sister?” I ask Gia.

  “Brother, and no.”

  “Why not? I love my brothers and my sister.”

  “Because he’ll get all the attention. Like when my other brothers were born. No one will be at my recital.”

  We reach the house in question and I glance at her. “I’ll come.”

  She stops at the bottom of the stairs to her grandparents’ house. I remember hanging around these stairs when we were younger. Val was always over here. My buddy Pauly was head over heels for Lulu, and everyone knew I couldn’t stay away from Val.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” I shrug. I wasn’t planning on staying, but what can it hurt? I understand why Gia might be acting out. Ma still tells the story about Enzo and me running away when Carm was born. It’s like we knew what was coming.

  “Oh yeah!” Her small hands dig into the plastic bag. “This is for you.”

  She hands me the smiley face cookie she picked out. It took the lady pointing to five different ones before Gia settled on this particular cookie, so I know I’ve been granted a rare honor in her world.

  “Thank you.”

  She picks up the bag. “I don’t care what my mommy says about you. You’re okay in my book.”

  I chuckle, escorting her up the stairs. I can only imagine what she’s overheard.

  The door opens, and there stands Lulu’s ma. If you put the three of them side by side, it’d look like one person’s progression of age. Scary.

  “Hi, Dominic,” she says, staring at my cookie.

  Lulu’s ma has always liked me.

  “Hi, Mrs. Milano.” I kiss her cheeks and step back. “I assume you heard the news?”

  “We did. We were going to sneak over there before the recital, sounds like we should have time. She’s not dilated enough to push yet. Vin is stuck in traffic, and poor Val is having to deal with Lucia.” She widens her eyes because we both know what her daughter can be like.

  “Nonno, I got cookies,” Gia screams into the house.

  “Would you like me to keep Gia?” I ask. This is the polite Italian boy in me rearing his head. The one who has no experience with a child.

  “Really?” Mrs. Milano’s eyebrows raise.

  NO. NO. NO.

  I mentally calculate the distance to my mother’s house. “Well… sure.”

  “You’re a lifesaver. I’d hate for a grandchild to be born without any family there. I mean, Val is like family, but she’s not blood.” She squeezes my arm. “You’re an angel.” She turns her head. “MARIO, GET YOUR SHOES ON, DOM’S TAKING GIA!”

  Mr. Milano saunters to the door, cookie crumbs on his extended stomach. “Dom!” His deep voice booms through the house and into the open air. “Gia was just sharing the cookies. Thank you.”

  I lower my head and offer my hand. “Congratulations on becoming a nonno again.”

  “What are you waiting for? Get your shoes.” Mrs. Milano opens the closet door, pulls out her own shoes, and flings his to him. “Dom’s going to watch Gia.”

  “Really?” He looks at me skeptically.

  I’m with you, buddy.

  “Oh wait. I have to get her outfit.” Mrs. Milano runs up the stairs and comes down with the smallest rhinestoned leotard in a clear garment bag. I see a set of ballet shoes in one of the pockets of the bag, as well as a pair of light pink tights. She thrusts it at my chest. “Here. She needs to be there at five. Hair and makeup done.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “It’s just a bun and some eyeliner. We may be there beforehand. Lulu’s labors are fast. Just like mine.”

  “What’s fast? Like, an hour?” I flip my wrist to glance at my watch. I’ve already had Gia for forty-five minutes. That suddenly feels like enough.

  “Within twelve to eighteen hours.”

  “I give you credit, Dom.” Mr. Milano pats my back as they file out the door.

  “Oh wait.” Mrs. Milano laughs. “Gia! You’re going with Mr. Mancini.”

  “Yay!” She runs to the door, her bag of cookies swaying in her hand. She jumps off the first step. “Where are we going?”

  “A salon?”

  Mrs. Milano laughs. “Oh, don’t stress. It doesn’t need to be perfect.”

  I stand dumbfounded on the stairs while the Milanos walk down the sidewalk to wherever their car is parked.

  Gia smiles up at me. “Where to?” She slides her small hand in mine, leading me down the stairs.

  I glance at my watch again. It’s only eleven-thirty in the morning. “You hungry? My ma is the best cook in Carroll Gardens.”

  She shrugs, her stomach probably full from all the cookies.

  I bite into mine, the sugar the only positive thing about what just transpired. “Let’s go.”

  We walk down the sidewalk toward my parents’ place. We’ll just consider this a little practice for Ma before she has any real grandchildren.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Valentina

  * * *

  “What?” I ask because surely all Lulu’s screaming has damaged my eardrums.

  Mrs. Milano grabs her daughter’s hand. “Dom took Gia.” She repeats herself as though it’s every day a person leaves a small child in the care of a bachelor.

  “And he was okay with that?”

  “Delighted. His suggestion.” She wipes the hair off Lulu’s forehead. “Any word on Vin?”

  “He’s on his way,” I answer because Lulu’s breathing through a contraction. Her eyes are wide with questions about why Gia is with Dom. “I’ll be right back.”

  I make my way over to the couch to grab my purse off of it.

  “Ma! You left him with Gia?” I guess Lulu’s contraction is finished.

  “It’s Dominic Mancini.”

  “Yeah, exactly,” Lulu says.

  “He’s a good boy. Successful.”

  “And single! He doesn’t know the first thing about kids.”

  “You worry too much. Gia’s easy.”

  I cringe, wondering if Mrs. Milano really believes that’s the truth.

  “You let him bring her to us. I don’t see the problem?” Mr. Milano decides to chime in.

  “Because I was in labor and all he had to do was get her to you.”

  “He bought her cookies. A whole dozen,” Mrs. Milano brags.

  Once I’m in the hallway, I pull out my phone and lean back against the hospital wall.

  “She told me she had to explain that Italians buy enough to share. That he only brought one cupcake to the dance studio, but she made sure he had enough cookies for everyone.” Mr. Milano laughs. />
  I hold my phone close to my heart. How can a man I’ve known almost my entire life continue to surprise me? I dial Dom, and he answers on the first ring, the sound of blow dryers in the background.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  He chuckles. “It’s fine. I’m not gonna lie, I freaked out for a second.”

  I can only imagine. I’m surprised he’s not at his ma’s with her. “Where are you?”

  “Well, I was told that her hair and makeup needs to be done for tonight, so I took her to a salon.”

  I smile, imagining him walking into a place filled with that much estrogen. Damn, all those women are probably wondering if he’s single or not. “They were able to take you without an appointment?”

  Why am I asking? Of course they took him. He’s a gorgeous guy with a cute little girl.

  “They fit us in. Just a bun is good, right?”

  I laugh. “Yes. Perfect. Do you want me to meet you?”

  “Nah, I have this handled. You should be there for Lucia.”

  Speaking of, she’s screaming again.

  “Thanks a lot, Dom.” I lean back against the wall, my knees wanting to sink to the floor.

  “You can thank me later,” he says in a suggestive voice.

  “I’m already imagining all the ways.”

  “Me too, and I shouldn’t be having those thoughts with an eight-year-old nearby.”

  I chuckle. “Okay, I’ll bring a bottle of alcohol as a thank you instead.”

  “Let’s not get carried away.” I can hear the smile in his voice, and a warm feeling spreads through my chest. “Go be with Lulu, I’ve got this handled.”