Garden of lies by Both Don & O'Hara Maria

Author:Both, Don & O'Hara, Maria
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9783961155767
Publisher: A.P.P. Publishing House
Published: 2023-05-08T00:00:00+00:00

Shocked, I stare at her. “Aunt Roberta! Please stop!” I turn red and she grins at me knowingly.

“It is hard, right?” she inquires unabashedly.

“Please stop,” I beg.

“You’re like Giuliana!” She groans. Giuliana is my cousin. “She never tells me anything either. No one tells anyone anything around here.” Of course not. “These women here are so afraid of their husbands. Boo-hoo!”

I smile as Donovan comes back and sits next to me, directly opposite you. Why does he always have to be so confrontational?

“Leave. My. Wife. Alone!” he demands and presses an index finger against her forehead and pushes Roberta away. She sighs theatrically as he touches her.

I drop my head into my hand mumbling, “God” and turn away from her. Why are we here? Why does Aunt Roberta always single me out?

Sighing, I dare to peek in your direction. Seemingly tense, you drum your fingers on the table. I’d love to ask you what is bothering you. My insides rumble and I take a deep breath, as you do. You grind your teeth and I flex my hands under the table.

Because I want to feel you and can’t.

Pablo leans between Donovan and me and slams a shot of grappa on the table, ripping me out of my thoughts. “Now it’s your turn,” he says, pushing a shot glass toward me. I freeze and my eyes widen, as do Caden’s eyes. Then, I slowly look past him at Donovan, who takes a deep breath.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he retorts, drinking it for me.

“Hey, that was for your wife. Now this one here is hers.” Pablo refills the glass and turns to Aunt Roberta, who addresses him. I quickly shove the glass toward Donovan. He bravely downs it for me and grimaces.

“I feel so sick,” he mutters in anguish. I pat his forearm sympathetically, but part of me enjoys watching him suffer.

“You can do this,” I whisper anxiously, “Or should I?”

He glares at me. “No! Don’t you dare...”

Defensively, I raise my hands, take the glass, and tap his uncle, grinning. He half-turns and I hold the empty glass out to him. He raises his brows appreciatively and refills it again, spilling a little. Pablo turns away again and I push the shot glass toward Donovan. He glares at me through narrowed eyes.

“You’ll regret this, tesoro,” he slurs. I cannot take him seriously in his condition. A cool, superior smile graces my lips. Donovan downs the grappa and holds the glass in front of my face, blinking slowly. “That’s enough, Isabelle. I cannot take it another.”

I rest my chin on the heel of one hand. “So, is this how a man drinks?”

“I’ve had eight shots, Isabelle. Eight!” He waves a finger in front of my nose like a true Italian, like I wouldn’t understand him otherwise. I push his fingers away from my face.

“Why don’t you eat something? You want some of my pizza?” I ask smugly. Oh, he’s going to suffer for the rest of the day. But then he deserves it.

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