Free The Legacy by J. Adams Page B

your family.”
She wipes her own face and we embrace.
“Hey,
what
are
all these
tears
about?”
Patrick
says,
entering the kitchen.
Gloria laughs. “Oh, you know I get emotional a lot.
Probably my hormones.”
“Yeah, probably,” he agrees, dodging his wife's attempt
to swat him with the dish towel. I laugh as he ducks behind me.
They are a total riot and I love them already!
Patrick smiles, placing a fatherly arm around me. “I know
it's not official yet, but welcome to the family.”
“Thank you.” I briefly take in his handsome features,
marveling at how much Ingo looks like him.
After talking another moment, we take the sandwiches
and lemonade to the family room and rejoin the others. A while
later, Ingo discreetly pulls me into the hallway. Wrapping his
arms around my waist, he presses me against the wall and
whispers, “Have I told you today how much I love you?”
“Yes, but it is okay if you want to tell me again.”
“I love you.” He kisses me tenderly.
“I love you, too,” I murmur.
“So . . . you wanna get married?”
“Married?”
“Yeah, you know, married? Get hitched, tie the knot,
jump the broom, live together, sleep together, make babies.
Married.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me. Maybe we should.”
Grinning, he kisses me again. “We probably should head
to the airport to pick up Adagio.”
“I can’t wait to meet him.”
Ingo sticks his head in the family room and tells the
family we're leaving and won’t be too long.
“Shall we take your car or mine?” he asks as we head to
the garage.
I smirk. “I guess we should take yours. It’s roomier.”
“Well, my SUV is a lot roomier than your Jag.”
“Ya think?”
Laughing, he kisses me quickly, bringing back to mind the
day he gave me the beautiful car. After returning from North
Carolina,
Ingo
decided he
needed to
get
himself
some
permanent transportation. He also decided I needed a car of
my own. I couldn't believe it when he pulled up in the shiny,
metallic, gray Jaguar and presented it to me as a wedding
present. I laughed and cried for almost an hour as I drove it
around the city. I never dreamed of owning something so
extravagant. I immediately traded my North Carolina license
for a Utah one.
Smiling at the memory, I pull him close for another kiss
before getting in the car.
    On our way to the airport, Ingo tells me more about
meeting Adagio in Italy when he was there doing a photo
shoot. He was renting a room near Adagio’s villa and dined in
his restaurant one afternoon. The two began talking, and when
Ingo mentioned he would be heading to Utah to see his aunt
after his job was finished, Adagio told him about once living in
Salt Lake City himself and Ingo knew he'd found a friend.
Adagio introduced Ingo to his kitchen staff, and then had him
over for dinner the following evening and shared more about
his own life. They have been best friends ever since.
    Ingo
shares
what
Adagio
told him about
losing
his
parents when he was young, and about his move to the U.S.
over five years ago to open Little Venice .
    “I love the name,” I say. Of course, I love Italian food,
period–no, I love everything Italian. In fact, I sometimes think I
was born on the wrong continent.
“It was a pretty catchy name,” he agrees.
    He talks about a disgruntled employee setting fire to
Adagio's restaurant, destroying the place. “It’s pretty sad that
they never caught the guy. Adagio worked so hard for that
place, and to lose it like that was terrible. Fortunately, he had
good insurance and was able to start over. And I have to say I
really like his restaurant in Treviso. It’s in a wing of his home
and it's beautiful.”
    “What is his new place called?”
“ St. John’s Place . Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“It does,” I agree. “It's awful that a person can be
    vindictive enough to destroy lives that way.”
“I can’t understand it, but it happens.”
Sadly, I do understand all too well the cruelty of