Read March (Calendar Girl #3) for Free Online

beautiful grandsons. We need to carry on the Fasano name you know?” Mona’s eyes pierced mine. “You do want children?”
    Tony came to the rescue then. “Ma, enough. I’m starved, and I want to introduce Mia to the rest of the family.”
    “Okay, okay.” She clapped her hands then grabbed both my arms and pulled me into a tight hug. In my ear, she whispered the words that would crush any woman with half a heart. Her voice was raspy and thick with tears. “I wished for you. I prayed every night my Anthony would find his mate. I am so happy you are here.” Mona pulled back, cupped both my cheeks and laid a big fat wet one on my mouth. Kissing a girl really isn’t that big of a deal usually. Sometimes Gin or Maddy kissed me, but a woman I’d just met? One whose soul I would later destroy? Not cool.
    Hector walked around us and hugged a bunch of the people in the room before finding one of the three open chairs at the front of the room.
    “Come on sweetheart,” Tony said leading me to the other side of the room. Sweetheart. That’s what Wes called me. He would think this scenario was a hoot. Maybe even put it into one of his movies one day as a romantic comedy. A stunning business man, a boxer, hires an escort because he’s gay and not ready to come out to his family.
    I sat in the seat next to Hector. Pretty sure that move was strategic on Tony’s part, but I could see the disappointment in Hector’s eyes that Tony didn’t sit next to his true mate. It was all so depressing. Two men, clearly in love, feeling as though they can’t be together because of society, family, business and obligation. I grabbed Hector’s hand under the table and squeezed it. He glanced sideways at me, just the corner of his lips curving up. “Don’t worry. By now, missy, I’m used to it.”
    For the next hour, I was introduced to all four of Tony’s sisters. There was Giavanna the eldest at thirty-nine. She must have gotten most of the mother’s genes because she was short, around five foot two, thick, black hair, but her eyes were as dark brown as a roasted coffee bean. So much so that you couldn’t really see the black of her pupil. It didn’t take away from her beauty in the least. Though she had a few wrinkles, mostly laugh lines, at the corners of her eyes, it didn’t change the fact that she was a looker. As were all the Fasano women. I couldn’t keep track of her four children. They varied in age and ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. All I could get was a bunch of Italian names that I wouldn’t remember and the knowledge that there were two boys and two girls.
    Isabella was next. A little taller than her sister. Maybe around five foot four and a couple years younger at thirty-seven. Same black hair and dark eyes. Only her mouth was the perfect bow shape like Tony’s. She introduced me to her two young sons who looked to be school age. I couldn’t really guess how old they were. I hadn’t been around kids much in the past.
    Sophia was third in line at thirty-five and another couple inches taller than the last, maybe around five foot six. It seemed the younger they were, the taller they got. Interesting fun fact I brought up later when joking around with Hector. Now this woman though was a class act. She was dressed in a pencil skirt, a silk blouse and her black hair was pulled back into a tight bun at the nape. A pair of tortoise rimmed glasses sat on her pert nose. Her eyes were also dark, but her skin was much paler than the rest of the family. Made me wonder how tan Mr. Fasano used to be. Maybe he was a pale Italian.
    “So did you just get here from work?” I asked.
    Sophia took a drink of wine. “Yeah, it’s been a long day at the office. I’m the Chief Financial Officer for Fasano’s Unlimited.”
    “The money gal.” We tapped wine glasses in a mock toast.
    “That’s me. Someone has to keep all these hooligans in line. If it wasn’t for me and my team, they’d be spending money