Free Champagne Deception by Anisa Claire West

boy , she sighed inwardly.  Well, I knew there had to be something wrong with him .
    “ Mamma , I’m having dinner with Coretta tonight,” he explained matter-of-factly.
    “But I made lasagna with meatballs.  And tiramisu for dessert.  Everyone was waiting for you, all your sisters, your brother, everyone!  So I had to bring all this food to you!” Signora Fiatti complained as Coretta instinctively ducked her head, feeling Lorenzo’s embarrassment.
    “ Mamma ,” he said in a lightly pleading tone.  “There’s no need to get upset.  Thank you for bringing the lasagna and tiramisu.  Coretta and I will enjoy them very much.”
    Signora Fiatti looked appraisingly at Coretta.  “You are American.  What are you doing in Italy?” She asked bluntly.
    Coretta wrung her hands tensely.  Before she could answer, Lorenzo interjected, “She’s going to be my artistic partner.  I finally found a good painter to work with.”
    “Really?” She asked doubtfully.  Addressing Coretta, she declared, “My son is a modern day Michelangelo.  He is the best sculptor in all of Italy.”
    “She is exaggerating!  Please, Mamma !” Lorenzo protested vehemently.  Looking towards Coretta, he said, “She’s the only one who’s ever made the comparison between Michelangelo and me.  Leave it to a mother!”
    Yes, leave it to a doting, smothering, overprotective mother , Coretta thought while forcing a smile.
    “Do you have Italian roots?” Signora Fiatti demanded.
    “Um, no, actually I don’t.  My parents are Greek,” she replied proudly.
    “So you are not Catholic?” Signora Fiatti appeared horrified.
    “No, I was raised Greek Orthodox, but I’m not very religious,” she replied as Lorenzo shook his head nervously.
    “Not religious?” Signora Fiatti’s horror deepened.
    “No, not really,” Coretta replied honestly, wishing she could leap off the terrace and disappear into the busy streets of Milan.
    “Mamma, I think you have asked Coretta enough questions for now.” Lorenzo put a hand on his mother’s shoulder, trying to lead her to the door.
    Reluctantly, the rotund woman acquiesced, giving Coretta one last disapproving look before accompanying her son out of the dining room.  A few minutes later, Lorenzo returned, still flushed with embarrassment.
    “I’m sorry for how rude my mother was.  I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of mama’s boy!” He chuckled .
    I already do , she thought stiffly.  “She didn’t seem to like me very much,” Coretta observed honestly.
    “She’s a tough cookie at first.  Ever since my father died, I’ve kind of taken over the pa triarch role of the family.  My sisters and my little brother do what they can, but my mother leans on me a lot.  She’s very traditional, but she’s got a heart of gold once you get to know her.”
    “When did you lose your father?” Coretta asked compassionately, shoving aside the mama’s boy issue for the moment.
    “Almost two years ago.  He had a heart attack.”
    Ah, that would explain it.  Signora Fiatti was recently widowed and not yet accustomed to being on her own.  Hopefully, in time, she would become more independent if any type of relationship were to develop between Coretta and Lorenzo.
    “That’s so sad.  I’m sorry,” Coretta consoled.
    “Thank you.  I was very close to my dad.  I still miss him sometimes,” Lorenzo admitted as his eyes clouded with sadness.
    “Of course you do!  It’s only been a couple of years.” Coretta reached across the table and rubbed Lorenzo’s forearm.
    In a low voice, he said, “And you know why she was asking you so many questions, right?  Because she can see that this is more than a working relationship.”
    Coretta grinned.  Good, let the woman get used to the idea of her being in Lorenzo’s life.  She had handled a Class A jerk named Jonathan Trake for ten years; she could easily handle an old lady with a tart tongue.
    Eye contact was the main form of