“I got plenty out of that, don’t worry.” He grins through his words. “I love watching you squirm with pleasure.”
“Pleasure is an understatement. Those gloves are a direct link with the celestial.” My breath is still heavy as I speak.
We laugh together and Pacer slips his glove from my underwear. I re-button my jeans as he opens the door to the boathouse, and I wipe the beading across my brow. His nephew, who drove us to the seaplane, casually strolls down the jetty, smoking a cigarette.
“Mum and Nonna sent me to find you.” He looks completely unbothered by what he was about to walk in to, so hopefully he’s oblivious to it.
“Found us,” Pacer replies, lighting a cigarette. “Giorgie, you remember Chelsea.”
He nods. “How’s it going?”
Feeling a little flushed in the face, I try my best to hide it. “Good to see you again.”
“Are you ready for this?” I see a hint of a smirk.
Holding onto my hand, Pacer squeezes. “He’s just messing with you. Ma and Lucia are about the worst of it.”
Walking back up the sloping lawn, Lucia is placing small vases of flowers on top of the long trestle table. The twins run frantically around on the lawn next to her. The sound of voices inside is louder than before; there must be more of the family here.
“There you are. I just need a hand dressing the table.” I don’t know if she’s talking to me or Pacer, so I grab some wine glasses from the box on a chair just to be safe.
“I’ll go and help upstairs.” Pacer and Giorgie both head inside.
We decorate the long wooden table with posies of flowers, wine glasses and bottles of wine, lots of bottles of wine. The three huge antipasto platters are the beautiful centrepiece, giving a gorgeous rustic Italian feel to it all.
“So your Dad’s the judge, John Tanner?” I know exactly why Lucia’s asking me.
Not only did he sentence her Dad before he was murdered, but he put her husband behind bars when she was heavily pregnant with her second son. I know so many intimate details about this family, but try to act as unaware of it as much as I can.
I nod and try not to be fazed by her question. “Retired Judge.”
Lucia doesn’t look me in the eye. She doesn’t seem as approving of me as Pacer’s Mum.
“You’re not the first person to question why Pacer and I are together, and I’m sure you won’t be the last,” I add. “But I really like your brother.”
She nods. “He really likes you too. Being involved with this family isn’t going to be easy for you.”
“And being involved with my family isn’t going to be easy for you, either,” I fire back.
She looks up at me from across the table. “So your folks. They’re okay with you and Pacer, then?”
Her interrogation doesn’t waiver me. I shake my head, but offer a smile. “They were never going to be okay with it. I was prepared for that though. I was hoping your family weren’t going to be as sceptical.” I place the cutlery down on the table. “I’m risking a lot to be with Pacer. My family, career … everything. It could all blow up in my face.”
“Then why risk it?”
Is Lucia’s outlook on love jaded by her own experiences?
“Because. Love.” My whole face beams with an uncontrollable happiness at the thought of how in love I am with her brother, despite everything that’s being thrown at us.
Her smile matches mine and she giggles. “Ah, I’ve forgotten what that feels like.”
I continue setting out the rest of the cutlery. The table is set for eighteen. That’s one big family. I’ve had big dinner parties at Dolorous, but when it comes to family gatherings, we’re lucky to have five of us in attendance.
“Just for the record, I’ve never seen my brother this happy before.” She winks.
Did I just pass my first Fratelli cross-examination?
***
My mouth is sore from smiling and my head feels fuzzy from the full glass of red wine that keeps appearing in front of me. When an Italian tells you that it’s going to be an intense day, you really do have something to be nervous about. The discussions in Italian are loud and passionate, the food seems to be endless and the clinking of glasses is the soundtrack to it all—along with the crooning Dean Martin who continuously sings in the background.
I haven’t ever felt so welcomed into a family as I do here. Pacer’s two Aunts have asked me about all the details of Pacer and I meeting. I’m sure they read it all in the newspapers, but I’m happy to relive every moment again. His Uncle was so excited to see me a second time, but insulted that I haven’t been back to his restaurant since I was there over a week ago, and I’ve even managed to stir a handful of words out of his quiet nephew, Rico. Pacer has remained at the helm of the BBQ all day, pausing only when we catch sight of each other through the crowded gathering. My heart’s rhythm skips every time. I’ve always wondered what a true sense of family felt like, and today feels like no greater definition.
Pacer’s cousin Franco sits down beside me. He’s a taller and rougher version of his father, Carlo.
“So how’s Pacer’s case looking? He tells me you think he’ll get off all these charges?” It’s the first work-related conversation I’ve had all day.
“Yeah.” I nod. “I’m pretty confident it will all be cleared up soon.”
It reminds me about Jackson Reed. I need to find a way to get to him. I watch Franco for a moment, and decide that I’ll touch the subject to see if he’s willing to offer more information on the man than his cousin.
“There’s a couple of things that have popped up, and I’m not sure how to approach it with Pacer.” I watch Franco’s eyes. They flick to Pacer, who is occupied by the BBQ and his Uncle. “It’s about Jackson Reed.”
He shifts in his seat and grabs the bottle of red wine in front of him. Topping my glass up and pouring his own, he turns his attention back to me.
“Tell me more,” he says as he sips the wine.
“All the investigations on Pacer have documents missing. I don’t know why, or what significance they have to the investigations. I just find it strange that they’ve vanished … into thin air.”
“And what do you think Reed has to do with that?”
Looking towards Pacer, I catch him frowning at me with Franco, but I grin to conceal the seriousness of our conversation.
“I’ve managed to trace who was in contact with the paperwork last, which alone took a lot of digging. But what I found was those detectives in charge worked directly with Reed during Pacer’s trials.”
“Interesting,” Franco coolly replies.
Something tells me he knew all of this already.
“Why did Reed have this information removed? Was it to keep information on Pacer? Information that could put him in prison? Why?” The questions fire off in succession.
“These are things that you need to discuss with Pacer. But let me warn you, Pacer was dead against you being involved in any of this.” He takes a gulp from his wine to finish it, and gets out of his seat. “It sounds to me like you know quite a lot already.”
Franco has confirmed everything I already thought. There is more to Pacer and Jackson than just a crook and a QC. There is something between them that I need to find out.
A female singer blasts from the house’s speakers and Pacer’s Mum comes out, arms waving as she yells something in Italian. All the women clap and grab their disgruntled men for an impromptu dance on the terrace. Pacer grins and takes my hand, leading me to the coupled dancers, swaying in their embraces.
He guides me in a gentle dance together. “This is nice,” he says and kisses my forehead.
I nod. “It’s more than nice.”
“No, I mean it’s nice to not be dancing with one of my nieces or Aunts for once.”
It makes me laugh and he pulls me tighter to him. For the first time since the boatshed, I finally feel as if we’re alone, even though we’re amongst the bodies cocooning us.