Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi

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After the barbecue, James told me what had been on his mind.

Alison was out of prison.

Like he had said, there wasn't much we could do about it right now, so I took in the news and tried to think of something else. At night, we both collapsed into bed. It had been a long day.

I woke up happy the next day, despite the news James had given me, and made a point to spend the day with Alessandro again.

We were playing on the floor blanket, and he grinning as he shook a toy box that made a jingle sound. He squealed as though this were the best thing ever, when James came over to me. "James?" I asked at his mysterious smile.

"I'm going out," James said. He leaned down and kissed my forehead, then the top of Alessandro's head. "I'll be back in a bit."

"Where are you going?" I called at his back.

James just waved a hand, and I frowned as the bedroom door closed.

"Well," I mumbled to Alessandro. "Grandpa is being a bit of a poop."

"Da." Alessandro pointed one graham cracker crusted hand at the door. "Da."

"Yes, you're right. You're right." I was still a bit peeved that James was keeping secrets from me again, no matter how big or small.

I decided to take my mind off of it by bringing Alessandro to the park. I hadn't wanted to take him out in case people started asking questions about him or Dahlia, but we needed a change of scenery.

I put him in a very expensive stroller that I'd assured James we didn't need, but he hadn't listened to a word. It was rather nice and smooth-rolling, though.

Alessandro blew bubbles with his lips all the way there, making little buzzing sounds and looking around him. When he saw the park equipment and other children playing, he screeched so loud with excitement that every mother's and nanny's head turned to look at me.

I recognized many of the women from the barbecue. "Hello," I said, somewhat embarrassed by my child's disruption, "I'm Becca."

"Yes. I saw you at the barbecue," a red-headed woman whose name escaped me replied, scooting over on a bench to make room for me.

I gave her a grateful smile and sat down.

"Antoinette," the woman provided with a small smile.

"Thank you. I am so bad with names," I apologized.

"I am, too. So, this is your little one?" Antoinette asked. "I seem to remember you mentioning him at the barbecue as well."

"Oh, he's..." How could I possibly explain what Alessandro was to me? What had happened? What my life... was? "Um... yes, he is my little one."

Antoinette raised one perfectly-plucked eyebrow at me, then shrugged. "My Dora is over there on the swings. She's six. Hello, darling!" Antoinette waved. "I remember when she was this age. So precious."

I smiled softly. "He is, isn't he?"

"I was so impressed with your husband at the barbecue," Antoinette went on. "You seem like such a happy family. Most husbands around here show up at Christmas and maybe Thanksgiving, and that's it. James seems so supportive of you. And romantic!"

I blinked at her words. Come to think of it, James was very supportive. And attentive. "Thanks. But he's not... we're not... you know what? Just thanks."

"You can't possibly tell me you're not married!" Antoinette gasped.

I blushed. "Well... it's complicated. We're working on it. That's the way it's going, anyway."

"With this little man over a year old now?" Antoinette said. "What could there possibly be to work out?"

Oh... so many things, Antoinette. And none of which I could say aloud.

"I... um... we... um..." I fought for some reason to tell her. Why couldn't I have just told her we were married? "We... come from different economic backgrounds."

"And I suppose your father doesn't approve," Antoinette added with a sage nod.

I stared at her. "How do you know that?"

"My dear, he's old enough to be your father. Though it certainly isn't noticeable. He absolutely pummled Dave!" she laughed. "But no father is particularly happy in a situation like that. So, where do you come from?"

"I... well... quite a few places, actually. Right now we're based out of Italy," I replied.

"Yes, I remember he spoke in Italian. You hang on to that man. Get a ring on it as soon as possible," Antoinette advised.

My thoughts began to swirl. Would it hurt or help our case with Alessandro if James and I got married? Was James ready to get married? He'd indicated so on several occasions, but then I'd been so resistant to the idea that maybe he was counting on that?

I looked at my left hand ring finger, thinking how nice it would feel to have a ring there, knowing I formally belonged to somebody.

"Where do you live in Italy?" Antoinette asked.

"Florence," I responded.

"Oh, that's a lovely city. We went there for our third honeymoon. Which was five years ago. Which, I think, is the last time I actually saw my husband face-to-face," Antoinette sniffed. "You're a very lucky girl."

"I am lucky," I admitted, especially to myself. "I have a man I love very much, and two children I also love very much..."

"Two? I've only ever seen this little guy," Antoinette said, reaching in the stroller to tickle Alessandro under his chin.

"Oh. My daughter, Dahlia, is back in Italy. She's not yet one," I explained. To hell with secrecy. I had outright lied about it at the barbecue, but Antoinette didn't seem to recall what I said, or she hadn't been around. Antoinette gave me a confused look. "Why would you have kept her in Italy?"

More of my life I couldn't talk about. If I stayed with James, if I married him, my life would always be like this secrets and lies. Then again, did I really even have a choice about staying with James? Thanks to the dangers Neil AND James had brought to my life, it seemed less and less possible for me to forge out on my own with the kids.

It would destroy James if I left with the kids, I knew that. But it would probably also be a death sentence for the kids and me.

What kind of a basis for a relationship was that? 'Yes, I have to stay with you, but not because I love you. Because I'll get killed if I don't.' How was it possible to even know if I was really in love with James or starting to suffer some kind of Stockholm Syndrome?

"You're thinking really hard, Becca," Antoinette observed, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Well... what if you're with a person because they make you feel safe..." I asked cautiously. "Is that any real basis for a relationship?"

Antoinette threw back her head and laughed. "Darling, that is a WONDERFUL basis for a relationship. Look around you. Most of us here married for money-convenience. You won't find one among us that didn't have money as some kind of concern. But you... you and James are different. I suppose you COME from different backgrounds, but you're on rather equal footing when it comes to money, right? You don't need his money?"

I rubbed the back of my neck. Technically... I had his money. Well, his old money. But it was true what she said-money wasn't a cornerstone of our relationship. "I wish I could be sure. No, we have no concerns about money, should one or both of us walk away. But there are other concerns..."

"I suppose his connection to the Mafia has something to do with your reservations?" Antoinette asked delicately.

I nearly fell off the bench. "P-Pardon?"

"Darling, everyone in this community does background checks on everyone else in the community. James probably knows what size swim trunks my husband wears," Antoinette chuckled. "I must say, it's rather exciting to have another one. The Mancinis haven't visited their mansion in such a long time."

"There's... more than one Family in this community?" I gaped.

"But of course. It's a safe community. We don't put our nose into criminal enterprises, and you all don't stick your nose into corporate theft and embezzlement. Everybody wins," Antoinette assured me.

"Oh." I had to take some time to take it all in. "I can't even... wow. I mean, I really should have assumed..."

Antoinette patted my knee. "You really are so preciously naive. Of course, a lot of men like to keep their younger girlfriends in the dark. Like that bubble-headed bimbo over there."

A girl in her twenties was giggling in a tight halter top and painted-on shorts as she hung on the arm of an elderly, well-dressed man with wispy hair.

"She won't know anything about anything," Antoinette said with a shrug. "But you and James are different. I'm sure he'd tell you anything you wanted to hear."

"Probably," I agreed. "You... do know why we're here, then? Um... did everyone already know at the barbecue?"

Antoinette nodded and let Alessandro grip her finger and wave it around in the air.

"Farrah probably didn't. She's newer and sort of the outlier here, so she's a little in the dark. No offense, but it's better that way. She can be a little... chatty." I let out an honest laugh.

"And yes, I've heard about your case. This precious child belongs with you. I'm sure the lawyers will work it out. In the end, it all comes down to money."

"I'm not sure. The father's family needs an heir, and they're pretty determined that Alessandro be that heir," I replied.

"With modern technology, I'm sure they could get whatever heir they want," Antoinette said. "Don't worry yourself too much about it. I'm sure James is handling everything." "He usually does," I murmured.

"Good. Now, I am throwing a garden party next week, and I INSIST that you come. You will get a formal invitation in the post, of course, but I just wanted to make sure you left the date open..." Antoinette changed the subject. I smiled at her, thankful to know I did have a few people I could share my life story with. It was a big surprise to know that everyone had their own stories here, just like we did.

I committed to the garden party, just as long as it didn't conflict with any of the legal things we had going on with Alessandro, then waved goodbye as Antoinette went to collect her little girl and walked back in the direction of her mansion. As the sun began to set a little, I decided applesauce and graham crackers just weren't going to cut it anymore, so I wheeled Alessandro back to our own mansion, nodding to the guards at the gate. For some reason, their smiles were extra bright. They knew something I didn't.

I got Alessandro some food and milk, and played with him a little more and read him a book before it was time to set him down to sleep. Luckily, he fell asleep in my arms and did not wake when I transferred him to his crib.

In the nursery, I curled up on the spare bed and tried to sleep myself. It got harder and harder to do so without James.

I must have fallen asleep, however, because I woke to a soft kiss on my temple.

"James?" I asked muzzily.

"Yes, it's me, darling," James said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I thought I'd go out and get you a present. That's why I was gone all day. I was making arrangements." "What present? Arrangements for what?" I replied, the sleep slowly clawing away from me.

James smiled at me and showed me what he had in his lap.

I looked down and burst into tears. "Dahlia!"

Dahlia was a bit grumpy, probably because of the time shift, but accepted me scooping her up in my arms just the same.

James stroked a hand over my hair while I peppered kisses all over Dahlia's squirming body. I got some diaper fuzz in my mouth, but I didn't care.

"I thought it would be nice to be together as a family," James explained.

With a sob, I leaned up to James and kissed him.

"Okay," I whispered, tucking my head under his chin. "Okay, I think that's the best idea I've ever heard."