Saint Giordano
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“Are you nervous?” Adriana asked me.
I arched an eyebrow and stared pointedly at the leg that had been shaking for the past few minutes. With a chuckle, I placed one hand on her leg while the other was on the steering wheel. “Baby, I think you’re the one who’s nervous.”
She laughed dryly. “Me? Nervous? Why would I be nervous?”
“You tell me.” I gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Why are you nervous?”
“I’m not nervous. I’ve lived with them for years:”
“If you say so, baby.” I let her believe whatever she wanted.
We were having Thanksgiving dinner at her parents’ place. According to her, it would be the first time I was officially meeting them so everything had to go well. I told her not to worry but she was worried anyway.
It didn’t matter that her sisters were also br
