Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi
Chapter 169 -

Весса.

I spent the next morning with Alessandro, taking him around the house and discovering all its nooks and crannies. It was an old house, but the renovations made it feel very modern. Most of the lights and appliances even worked with voice commands. "Aren't you going to the neighbors' for lunch?" Layla's head popped into the nursery just as I was getting ready to change Alessandro.

"I forgot!" I cried out, startling Alessandro. I smiled at him, and he smiled back, thankfully. "Can you get him?"

"Yes, go ahead." Layla stepped inside and took over while I rushed to the bedroom.

James was there looking at himself in the mirror, turning from side to side while observing his clothes. He did this several times while I searched through my suitcase--I hadn't even properly unpacked yet. "I've never seen you so worried about your appearance," I said, startling him.

"I don't know what the dress code is for these events."

From what I surmised yesterday, Farrah seemed like a laid-back person. I doubted anyone would be wearing pants and a formal shirt like what James had on, but I didn't say anything. It looked good on him. Besides, I couldn't imagine him being comfortable in shorts and flip flops even if it was a really warm day.

I was ready in a second while James continued to fidget. Were Farrah's words from yesterday getting to him? He had never seemed to doubt himself because of our age difference.

"Are you ready?" I hugged him from behind, resting my cheek against his hard back.

"Yeah," he said, sounding dejected. I started to worry that he REALLY didn't want to go, but I had already confirmed we were attending, and besides, I thought it would do us good to try to bring some normalcy into our lives. I wasn't going to give in on this one.

"Let's go, then," I smiled at him and we headed downstairs.

James.

I hadn't seen Becca act like such a social butterfly before. Not like this.

Within five minutes of our arrival at the packed backyard porch, she was already surrounded by a group of chirpy women, a few close to her age and others that were closer to mine. I just wanted to go back home and think. Alison was out of prison. I conveniently withheld this information from Becca so she wouldn't be upset, but the downside to this was that it was weighing on me, and I couldn't share it with her now.

"Here's the new neighbor!" A balding man that was at least twenty years younger approached me and extended his hand. "Dave Davenport."

"Oh, the man of the hour. Congratulations," I said. "James Valentino."

He gave me a firm shake.

"You know, you got that property for a steal. I have contacts with the realtors, and it was meant to be a bidding war. But then you swooped in and grabbed it. Share your secrets with me, James," he said, handing me a beer. "I have so many of them that you'll retire by the time we're done."

He let out a hearty laugh, and then his face soured up a little when he saw I meant it.

I really wasn't in the mood for this.

Весса.

I couldn't believe I was enjoying this so much.

Yes, there were a lot of pleasantries and small talk back and forth, but the simplicity of it-talking about nannies, daycares, and where to get the truly organic fruit and not the one disguised as homegrown was a refreshing change of air. "I took mine to Happyland. I wanted him to be around other kids," one of the women was saying.

"Well, I'm taking a leave for two years so I can spend time with Aisha, so I don't think I'd be able to part with her until she's ready for preschool!"

"What about you, Becca?" Farrah interjected, setting all the women's eyes on me. "I thought I saw a stroller being unloaded from one of your many cars yesterday."

"Yes, I have two kids. Alessandro and Dahlia." I didn't like her tone when she said "many cars," implying that I had to give a reason for that.

And now I had to come up with an excuse for Dahlia not to be with us. Shit.

I started to doubt whether it would have been better to just say it was Alessandro. But then, if we did stay here longer, how would I excuse the fact that Dahlia would suddenly appear?

"Oh, you should have brought them over! There's an area for the kids." She gestured toward the side of the house. I craned my neck to see and caught a glimpse of a play area with nannies and babies, all under the shade of a gargantuan sycamore.

"I didn't know. They're still settling in and getting used to the time difference with Italy, so I'm giving them a few days to adjust before they leave the house," I quickly said, feeling miserable for having to lie yet again. "Oooh Italy! Does James have business there?"

Her question elicited an involuntary laugh from me. Business. Yeah, he had business there. A lot of BUSINESS.

"The steak is ready!" Dave, Farrah's husband, mercifully interrupted me with his announcement. Plates were being distributed with chopped meat and an assortment of vegetables.

I politely excused myself and headed toward James, who was quietly eating by himself in a corner.

"Is everything all right?" I said, just as a neighbor handed me a plate and cutlery. I thanked her and turned back to James.

"Yes, everything's fine," he said, taking a sip of the beer he had left on the railing.

Maybe it wasn't the best of ideas to drag him over when it was clear he had no interest in being here.

"James." I prodded him with my finger. "Don't lie to me."

He sighed and held my gaze for a moment. "We can't talk about it here."

I didn't like the sound of that. If he didn't tell me what was wrong, I wouldn't be able to eat.

"Dahlia?" I hoped the urgency in my voice got through to him. I'd go crazy if he didn't tell me.

"She's all right."

"The trial?" I whispered.

"Becca, not now. It's nothing we can solve straight away. Let's just enjoy this." He brought a slice of meat up to my lips and pretty much forced me to eat it. "It tastes great." His mirthless smile wasn't comforting at all.

***

After an hour or so of not enjoying myself anymore, and when everyone seemed to be done eating, I thought it was an appropriate time to excuse ourselves.

"We should get going. Thank you so much. You've been so welcoming," I said to Farrah, who was collecting the plastic plates from everyone.

"Wait, you can't leave yet! It's tradition in the Davenport home to play a round of games," she said with a smile.

"Games?"

"Yes. Hopscotch, tug of war, arm wrestling. We vary, depending on the weather and the mood. It's just for fun, so we adults feel like we're young again. Or younger, at least."

I was about to say we really needed to leave when someone called out behind us.

"A hundred bucks on Dave!"

"The women are sitting this one out, it seems." Farrah left me, taking her bag with her.

The men set up a table for arm-wrestling, and a whiteboard which had been propped up next to it with a fixture of sorts. I noticed James' name wasn't on there.

Just when I thought we were off the hook, he walked out from inside the house with a beer in hand, quickly taking in the new developments. He seemed to immediately catch on to what was happening when Dave and another guy sat down facing each other.

"Why am I not on the list?" He grabbed another beer from the cooler and approached the table. It was the first time he had spoken out loud all afternoon.

"Oh. We thought you wouldn't be interested," Dave said. "And we didn't want you to get hurt. No offense!"

Everyone howled with laughter and James' expression darkened.

"Write me down."

"Oooh we have a challenger!" someone cried out, and James' name was written on the board. They added him against a man named Gary for the last match.

I didn't like the looks of this. James had chugged one beer after the other, and while he usually kept his temper around other people, I knew what those men were implying.

That he was perhaps too old to be interested-or capable of competing against them. His age had never really been an issue for anything, though these people were making it A THING.

I sat down on a stool and watched Dave beat his friend. Then there were two more matches- one that lasted a full five minutes of arms going back and forth, and then it was James' turn against Gary.

Gary was around my age and looked like he worked out. James set down his beer and stretched his arms and fingers. Before taking the seat in front of Gary, he scanned the porch until his eyes met mine.

"Per mi amore! Ti amo!" he cried out, taking a bow.

This public declaration of love caught me off guard, and I almost choked on my drink, but I quickly recovered and blew a kiss at him. Cheers surrounded us.

They sat down and placed their elbows on the table. For a second, I feared James would lose. He was muscular, but not bulky, and Gary's arm swelled when they began to push.

But it was for naught. James growled, and with a quick swing, he slammed Gary's knuckles onto the table.

"HA!" he cried out, raising his arms in victory.

I sighed with relief. Not that all of this really mattered in the grand scheme of things, but I knew it would be a blow to his ego if he lost.

And a part of me was actually enjoying this again, despite my urgency to know what was troubling James. It was just so... normal. Adults playing games after a good lunch and some drinks. Sharing with neighbors as if there weren't people after us, threatening to break up our family...

When I was about to go over to James so we could finally leave, they wrote his name down again. Crap. This was going to last longer.

It wasn't over after just one match. There would be semi-finals and finals.

James made eye contact with me again and winked. I could see his eyes were a little watery-possibly from all the beer he'd had, or the exertion from the match.

After beating another guy, James kept chugging beers and cheering more loudly everytime a match ended. While I was happy he was finally enjoying himself, my apprehension mounted.

Any time now, someone could say something that would make him mad. And I wouldn't be able to stop him from causing a scene or sending someone to hell.

"And the final match is.... our gracious host and the new dark horse! Dave and James!" announced a man who had suddenly become the games' narrator.

Dave got into one seat, and James sat on the opposite one. They faced each other for a few seconds before joining hands.

The match began as both men's arms tensed up. Dave's face instantly grew red, while James looked concentrated, his brows furrowed. Thin veins popped out from his forehead. Dave's hand pushed back on James', but he held strong.

"Go James!" I cried out, in spite of myself. I didn't want him to lose his concentration.

My words seemed to invigorate him. In an instant, James began to push back, and slowly, Dave's hand began to go down.

In a split second, his hand touched the table.

Cheers erupted from everyone except Dave, who sat on the chair massaging his wrist.

James took everyone's congratulations and then made his way to me, while everyone watched.

"Like I said. Per mi amore. Everything is for you," he said, gallantly bowing to me and kissing my hand.

If only this bliss could last forever.