‘It’s just an interim injunction,’ Nella said, looking sideways at Clarkson. ‘They’ll need to apply for a permanent one for it to last.’
‘The trial could take months,’ Tom said.
‘Drink this.’ Nella’s Zia Roberta slipped in between Tom and Vince, holding up an espresso like it was medicine. Tom swatted her hand away and turned back to tracking the cops’ every move, like a caged cat watching a family of mice frolic in its garden.
‘So the whole gang’s here,’ Nella said, her gaze resting accusingly on Jett before flicking around the restaurant at the extended family members. ‘Where’s Mum?’
‘In bed, resting. This has all been pretty hard on her.’ Zia Roberta, forever conscious of her large front teeth, held her hand up to her mouth as she spoke.
‘Nella doesn’t care,’ Tomaso said. ‘She’s been gone six months.’
‘I’ll speak for myself, Tomarsehole.’
Jett spat his coffee back into the mug. Grey disguised his laugh with a hacking cough.
‘She’s back now.’ Zia Rob patted Nella’s thigh. ‘And she’s here to sort all this out, aren’t you,bambina?’
The clinking of espresso cups ceased completely at Zia Rob’s words. The entire Barbarani clan and Giovanni’s business associates turned to Nella.
‘Um.’ She looked at Tom, then back at Clarkson. ‘No.’
Nonna Maria took a sharp breath that sounded shockingly like the start of a heart attack. She jabbed a finger at Nella and garbled something in Italian that sounded like a demonic incantation.
‘She says “Aren’t you a lawyer?”’ Zia Rob explained to the non-Barbaranis. ‘Speak English, Ma.’
‘Tomaso’s already hired a lawyer, Nonna, see.’ Nella pointed at Clarkson.
Nonna Maria clutched her hand to her chest like Nella had told her Clarkson had bought both of her kidneys at an auction.
‘Tom, this needs to stay within the family.’ Zio Vince ran a hand over his disappearing hair. ‘Gio said—’
‘I know what my own father wanted. Thank you, Vincenzo.’ Tom glared at him. ‘Antonella had multiple opportunities to stand up and do the right thing. But now the La Marcas have made their move. Clarkson Lieu is the best civil litigator in Western Australia – isn’t that right?’ Tom turned to Nella, who looked like she was swallowing his words like acid.
As Nella cocked her head, Jett braced himself. But all she said was, ‘That’s right. Clarky’s the best.’ She stirred her espresso, the clanging of the spoon against the porcelain unnaturally loud through the silent restaurant.
‘I thought you were the best,’ Zia Rob said. ‘Your father always—’
‘My father made it pretty clear what he thought of my legal practice, Zia Rob.’ Nella lifted her chin.
‘Nella’s firm doesn’t specialise in patent law,’ Tom said. ‘Clarkson does. And besides, you’re not staying, are you?’
‘What does he meanyou’re not staying?’ A voice came from the door. ‘You mean I tossed out the concubines I’ve been renting out your room to for nothing?’
As a rule, all humans are drawn to certain things: accidents, cute puppies, beach views. Luca Barbarani, the youngest son, was one of those things. With floppy dark brown curls, green eyes and darker skin than all his siblings, tattoos snaking around his arms and torso (more often than not on display), he was always turning heads. Twice. But there was something about his energy that sucked you in. He was like a battery. When he was low, everyone felt it, and when he was high, his energy powered the whole room.
As Luca strode into the winery, ruffling the hair of a young, attractive brunette woman alongside him (must be one of the cousins, Jett thought), he winked at his sister. He pecked Nonna Maria on the cheek and took a seat opposite Zia Rob, resting his boots on the pristine table and lighting a cigarette, curls flopping into twinkling eyes, then turned his head lazily to Jett. ‘Thanks for bringing her back, mate. It’s always nice to be reminded in person that I am indeed the most attractive sibling – easy to lose sight of these things.’
‘Feet off the table,’ Nella muttered, her eyes still on her cup.
Nonna Maria stood up in a surprisingly lithe manner and stepped into the cloud of Luca’s smoke. ‘Too thin.’ She patted Luca down like an airport security guard. ‘Eat more, like Antonella.’ She looked over approvingly. ‘Good to see you are not dieting anymore.’ She grabbed Nella’s upper arms. ‘Solid, see?’ She nodded at the rest of the family for approval.
‘Christ, Nonna.’ The dark-haired woman who’d come in with Luca rolled her eyes. ‘Nella looks like a bloody swimsuit model. Stop body-shaming your grandchildren. You’ll give us all eating disorders.’
Jett watched Nella’s mouth tighten and fought a strange urge to press his thumbs against the corners and smooth them back.
‘Nella.’ Zia Rob manufactured an extra syllable in her name:Nel-el-la.‘You don’t get to pick and choose when you are or aren’t part of this family. This lawsuit affects all of us, and only a family member who truly understands what is at stake here – your reputation, your grandfather’s legacy, yourfather’s legacy, especially after everything that ...’ Zia Rob caught her breath, her eyes glassy. ‘You,bambina, are the one who will fight for the truth, because you are a Barbarani. That man’—she pointed at Clarkson—‘doesn’t care enough.’
The restaurant was completely silent as Nella put down her cup, which rattled around the saucer like a spinning top. She stood, not looking at anyone.
