Say Ye by Celia Juliano Page A

me?”
    “Show me I’m not just another woman, that I matter.” She faced him, her arms crossed.
    “I’ve tried, but you won’t--”
    She pushed at the door, slamming it open. “Everything isn’t about sex,” she said in an angry whisper. “If I had a ring, I’d throw it at you right now.” She stepped into the foyer. He grabbed her arm. “Let go.” She tried to pry his fingers off.
    “Not until we talk,” he said.
    Her cheeks deepened from a rosy pink to a reddish glow. She slammed the heel of her shoe into his foot. He released her and she ran upstairs. Carlo jogged out of the kitchen.
    “What happened?”
    Lorenzo gritted his teeth and stared at the wall. Carlo waited. “She broke up. I’m gone.”
    “What did you do?”
    Lorenzo waved and walked out.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    9
     
    Lita woke up late. Not that she wanted to get up at all, but she forced herself to shower and dress, all in black, her one concession to her mood. She greeted Uncle Enzo, who sat reading the Chronicle. His dark look only made her guilt rise up, like the thorns surrounding Sleeping Beauty’s castle.
    She started breakfast, first tying on an oversized white apron. She sliced bread for garlic toast, got out homemade tomato sauce to poach the eggs in, and some baby spinach. Deciding on pears for fruit, she diced them, placing them in a shallow baking dish to roast in the oven under the garlic toast. A little mascarpone cheese to top the pears--she checked the fridge to make sure they had some. She grabbed a few potatoes from the bin in the cabinet, along with some peppers, all of which she diced and fried with a sliced onion in her cast iron skillet. Then, she finished with the eggs.
    Lorenzo entered and said hello to them. No hint of his authoritative tone now. He had no idea how she hated that tone, how it made her defiant anger bristle and strike, like a threatened cat.
    “Would you like some breakfast?” Uncle Enzo said as he folded the paper and set it next to him.
    Lorenzo sat and Lita served them. Her hands trembled so she gave up eating and washed the pans.
    “Can we talk in the living room?” Lorenzo asked when he set his plate by the sink.
    Lita nodded and dried her hands on the dishtowel. Uncle Enzo snapped the paper out.
    Why did Lorenzo have to be so sexy? It gave him an unfair advantage. She walked behind him into the living room. He turned to her and sank to his knees before he clasped her hand. He pulled a ring from his pocket and held it out to her. The diamond flashed bright, like his eyes. A classic Tiffany ring: a beveled thin gold band with a large round diamond, simple and elegant.
    “Will you marry me?”
    “Two knees?” She smiled.
    “The romantic apologetic proposal.”
    “You asked before.”
    “And you said yes. Say yes again?”
    “Yes.” He eased the ring onto her finger. This was forever.
    “Promise no throwing the ring?” He stood and gazed at her.
    “This ring?” she asked, admiring it again. “Never. Promise you won’t leave again?” He raised an eyebrow. “You know what I mean.”
    “Promise.”
    “What should the handsome prince do?” Lita slid her hands up his chest.
    “I wouldn’t know.”
    “I guess you need to watch some movies with me.” She eased her palms onto his neck.
    He grinned, shook his head, and kissed her. He edged back, but she kept her arms around him.
    “I’d like to continue, but I have an appointment. Uncle Enzo’s helping me look for office space.”
    “Will I see you later?” she said as they walked back into the kitchen.
    “No, I’ve got a dinner meeting with Lee and a designer.”
    “Why not meet here?” Uncle Enzo said.
    “Do you have plans today?” Lorenzo said to Lita.
    “I might go to D’Angelo’s Market.” She’d rather spend the day with Lorenzo. It cut into her happiness that he seemed so off-hand about wanting to spend time with her.
    “If you do, please give my regards to Celeste and pick up some amaretti,” Uncle