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eyes.”
    “He loves Gabi.”
    His mother huffed out a laugh. “He wants you to believe he loves your sister.”
    Val ran a frustrated hand through his hair. The last thing he needed on this day was his mother contradicting everything he said. “The invitations have already been sent. The wedding will take place in just under five months.”
    Simona pointed her chin toward the window. “Sometimes you’re so much like your father it scares me.”
    Val felt his back teeth grind together.
    “Speaking ill of the dead, Mama?”
    “Speaking the truth. He seldom saw the truth when something more pleasant filtered his view.”
    He had no idea what his mother was saying . . . didn’t want to ask what she meant. His sister met and fell in love with a man. Who was Val to step in and say she was making the wrong decision? He was her brother . . . not her father. He laughed at his own thoughts.
    “We’re having dinner in an hour. Gabi invited our new guests to the table.”
    Simona sighed, tired with the entire conversation.
    “Join us.”
    “Very well.”
    Val turned to leave the room. His mother’s words stopped him. “What of you, Val? When will you find a woman, settle down? Give me bambinos?”
    “Leave that to Gabi.”
    “You should marry first. That is the tradition.”
    His mother would be the death of him. “We’re not in Italy.”
    Simona blew out a long-suffering sigh. “Tradition holds no borders.”
    Without furthering the frustrating conversation with his mother, Val left her suite, dismissing her concerns.
    He made his way into his office, past Carol, who should have left for her on-island room long before.
    “I need you to extend an invitation to my table this evening,” he told her.
    “Our new guests?”
    Val hesitated. “How did you know?”
    “Gabriella already asked. She thought an actor would appease your mother.”
    A rare smile met Val’s lips. He loved his sister, would miss her when she moved away. “Word the invitation with color, Carol. Plain text won’t woo our guests.”
    “Of course, Mr. Masini.”
    Val stepped into his office, exhaustion nipping at his eyelids.

Chapter Four

    The sting in Meg’s tongue reminded her to keep biting her words. She should have guessed Valentino Masini would
highly encourage
them to join him and his party for dinner. The man was still checking up on her, and ticking her off.
    What would he do if she refused?
    Michael didn’t give her a chance to find out.
    “The invitation says his mother is a huge fan. How can I say no to a mom?” Michael had asked her.
    “I say no to mine all the time.”
    “If my mother received word of me refusing, I’d never hear the end of it.”
    “The man is still screening me,” Meg insisted.
    “Your insecurity is showing, Meg.”
    “I’m not insecure.” She tried to control the lift in her voice and failed.
    They now stood beside the head table, where Gabriella sat beside an older woman Meg assumed was Mrs. Masini. Valentino, of course, was absent.
    “You made it.” Gabriella stood when they approached the table.
    Semiformal dinner attire put Meg in her third outfit for the day. Talk about excessive. Gabriella wore a cream linen dress that stopped at her knees. The rhinestone heels highlighted her olive skin. The dress wasn’t overly flashy, just stylish and fitted.
    “How could we say no?” Michael asked.
    “Oh, you could have, but I’m happy you didn’t. Mama, this is Michael Wolfe and his companion, Margaret Rosenthal.”
    Mrs. Masini offered the same smile her daughter owned. “You’re just as handsome in person as you are on the big screen, Mr. Wolfe.”
    Michael flashed a smile and winked at Meg. “I think I need to sit beside you, Mrs. Masini.”
    The older woman patted the seat at her side. “Wonderful idea.”
    Michael pulled out the chair beside him for Meg.
    “Are we early?” Meg asked, looking at the two vacant seats at the round table.
    “Val and my fiancé will be along