MELROSE

CHAPTER 35

Day three

I was beginning to think people above the age of sixty were card and board game experts. We'd played countless rounds of chess, poker and monopoly and Fletch, Tyler, Roman and I and lost each time to my over competitive grandmother Lucy and her over competitive friends. Georgia, one of Lucy's friends we'd met in the party and her husband, Nicholas had come over earlier in the day and had challenged us to games we were failing miserably at.

"Checkmate!" Georgia yelled victoriously, high fiving Nick and Lucy. "We win. Again."

Her husband smiled at her, checking his watch and getting to his feet. Lucy pouted. "Are you leaving so soon Nick? We just got to the good part!"

"I know. As much as we would love to stay and show this youngsters who's boss," he stared at us younger people with an evil glint in his eyes, "we have to leave in time to pick Gotti up from the airport."

She perked up. "Of course! How I could I forget? There's a slight problem though." She swallowed. "Margherita knows he's coming."

The silence that followed her sentence was deafening. I watched as the colour drained from their faces.

Who the hell was this Gotti guy and what was his deal with Mar - what a motherfucking stupid name?

"Well." Nick found his voice. "That is going to be your problem, because we're flying to see my daughter."

Lucy frowned. "My problem? You want him to stay with me?"

"Yes please."

"Does he know you two are leaving?" They nodded. "And he still insisted on coming?"

"He's bonkers like that. Plus he knows you'll let him stay with you."

She shrugged. "He's right about that. Okay, off you go you two. He should not be kept waiting." She shooed them to the door and closed it.

"Lucy, can I go over to Marisa's?" Roman asked.

"No." Was her curt answer. "No one is leaving."

"Lucy." I spoke up. "Who's Gotti?"

She grinned. "He's Georgia and Nick's grandson, such a fine young man. In fact," She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I think he might suit you."

There was a collective groan of Lucy.

The last time we came here, she'd tried to set me up with a guy she thought was a fine young man. Poor boy got home with a broken arm.

She laughed. "Alright, alright. Now, who wants to help grandma make some cookies?"

Fletch volunteered faster than any of us.

When the doorbell rang an hour later, I was assigned to get it as I was covered with the least amount of flour. Roman had started a flour fight. The doorbell rang again. I hurried.

"I'm coming!" I temporarily forgot the safety rule about asking who was at the door first before throwing the door open. My jaw slacked at the sight of the brown haired, green eyed boy in front of me, but I quickly regained my composure.

"Mancini? What the fuck are you doing here?"

A body flew past me, straight into his arms. "Gotti!"

What. The. Fuck?

"You're Gotti?"

"Yep." Roman excitedly answered for him before crossing his arms. "We didn't see you during Christmas."