As they stepped out onto the wisteria-covered pergola, Tony and Angela were immediately overwhelmed and separated by a throng of cheery famiglia, all eager to meet their American cousin and his beautiful blonde American date. Most of them spoke a smattering of broken English, thankfully, as Tony's Italian was limited and Angela's completely non-existent.

The wine and the chattering family were both a welcome distraction from the solitude of their romantically lit and electrically charged quarters, but Angela had to admit she was quickly exhausted trying to explain their unique situation in simple English. The cab ride, she realized, had just been a preview of the weekend to come. She looked across the patio at Tony and found him similarly exasperated, meeting her eyes more than once for a jesty "Madonna-mi" eyeroll. She suppressed a small chuckle.

To their relief, Maurizio and his bride emerged under the pergola, he in a handsome suit, she in a simple long eyelet dress that highlighted her voluminous cascade of dark locks and hugged her diminutive figure. She was bright-eyed and confident as she greeted their guests; it was easy to see how Maurizio - or any man for that matter - had fallen head over heels for her. She spotted Angela and immediately crossed the patio to welcome her, parting the crowd. Maurizio found Tony across the patio and greeted him with the same enthusiasm.

"You must be Angela! I'm Emilia Bellavita. Maurizio has told me so much about you," she said warmly, in impressively fluent English.

"I guess the blonde kind of gives me away," she joked. "It's just lovely to meet you, Emilia. Maurizio is such a dear man. I hope you'll be very happy together."

"And you, as well. Maurizio tells me you are the love of his favorite American cousin," she said.

She blushed, immediately deciding she liked Emilia. "Well, I don't know about that, but I was honored to be invited to celebrate you and Maurizio this weekend."

"He's looking forward to seeing you. My father wanted to talk to you as well. Maurizio has talked on and on about how you're the brilliant advertising executive on Madison Avenue. My father owns a business here," she said.

" - the olive oil! I knew I recognized the name. Wow, your father's business must be doing very well. All I read about these days is the health benefits of olive oil. Of course, Tony's been using it for years."

"Yes, it's been so crazy they can't keep up. He's wanting to rebrand the company and position it better for an expansion of our products - pasta, sauces - those sorts of things."

"I see. Well, I'd love to talk to your father; I'm sure my agency would be able to help them launch that campaign in the American market."

"My brother as well. He's positioned to take over when my father retires next year. Maurizio is going to work for them. Oh - there they are! Papa! Matteo!" Emilia waved her father and brother over from the outdoor bar, and they began walking in their direction. Angela once again looked around for Tony, and this time found him with Maurizio, surrounded by a number of older twittering Italian ladies.

"Buongiorno," Emilia's father nodded at Angela.

"Papa, this is Angela Bower, the one Maurizio was telling you about. Angela, this is my father, Lorenzo Bellavita, and my brother, Matteo."

"Buongiorno, Signores Bellavita. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Lorenzo nodded pleasantly again, and Matteo took her hand and kissed it. Angela noted how handsome – and quite tall – he was for an Italian man.

"My father speaks very little English. But Maurizio has told us all about your advertising agency. We are currently in the American market, but are looking to rebrand and expand our product line this year, capitalizing on the success of our olive oil. He tells us you are brilliant at what you do, and that we should strongly consider hiring you. Would you consider it?"

"Oh I don't know about brilliant, but – of course I would."

"No, Maurizio always speaks the truth. He also said you were a classic American beauty, and it's clear he was right on that point." Matteo met her eyes and her heart skipped a beat in spite of itself. Angela wondered, not for the first time, what it was about Italian men that made them so irresistibly charming.

Angela laid a hand over her heart in an effort to collect her thoughts. She didn't anticipate needing to pitch a prospective client on this getaway with Tony, but now it made more sense why Maurizio had so enthusiastically wanted her to attend. She also didn't anticipate feeling flustered by the charms of any other Italian man besides the one who was platonically sleeping in her bed tonight.

"Well, thank you Signore Bellavita;" she said, smiling confidently at both men, "I'm confident we would be the perfect agency to handle your rebrand and product expansion. We have a lot of experience handling International accounts for the American market; in fact, just last year we helped our client, Pecher Fragrances, expand into the bath and body space. Their revenue in the American market alone has quadrupled in the last two years."

"That's certainly encouraging. I think once again Maurizio hit the nail on the head." Another devastating smile. She felt her knees go weak. Matteo took her arm gently and led her aside, away from the group. "I'd very much like to discuss the particulars of this with you after dinner this evening, if you'd be amenable."

She smiled professionally (she hoped) and replied, "I'm sure that can be arranged. I appreciate the opportunity, Signore Bellavita."

"You're here with your - friend? Maurizio's cousin?"

"Yes, Tony - or Antony, as he's known around here."

"He is your boyfriend?"

"No, not exactly. My...very close friend," she admitted, for what felt like the thirty-seventh time that evening. In this instance, she would have hoped to call him her boyfriend if only to give her a bit of a shield from his advances; but with the entire party already aware they weren't exactly a couple, there wasn't much point in lying.

"Ah, I see. Then maybe he won't mind so much if we dance tomorrow night at the wedding."

She was certain Tony would mind; or at least, she hoped he would. But she didn't see any way to decline his innocent offer given that substantial Bower Agency revenue could hang in the balance. Angela looked over and saw Tony talking to a very animated Maurizio, in addition to an older woman whose hair was bordering on a shade of violet. Tony looked up and caught her eye and winked. When his eyes drifted to Matteo, whose face was mere inches from Angela's, his smile faded. He searched her face for some sort of explanation, but all she could offer was an awkward smile.

"Hopefully not. Thank you, Signore. I'll look forward to hearing more about your business after dinner." Like magic, Tony suddenly appeared by her side.

"So sorry to abandon you, Angela. Bongiorno, I'm Antony Micelli, Angela's date. And who might you be?"

"Bongiorno, I'm Matteo Bellavita, Emilia's older brother." They shook hands, Tony offering a firm grip.

"Oh, her brother! How nice. I see you've met Angela."

Angela squeezed his bicep and said, with caution in her tone, "Yes, Tony, Signore Bellavita and I were just talking a bit of business."

"Oh is that what that was?" He said, casting her a look of mock surprise. "Oh I see. Yes, now that you mention it it does feel like quite the business-like atmosphere over here. Well, that's our Angela, all work and no play," he said with a sarcastic chuckle.

Angela was annoyed; often Tony's immature, over the top reaction negated any secret thrill she got from seeing him threatened by another man's attention toward her. She cleared her throat and said in a stern whisper, "Tony, think a moment about the name, Bellavita."

His eyes flashed recognition. "Oh...Bellavita. Like the olive oil? I buy a bottle a week at home! That's you? It's all the rage now in America, but I've used it for years. Lately I've been keeping a backstock because the market is always out."

"Yes, well, you're Italian," Matteo chuckled, seemingly unable to read Tony's jealous reaction. "The word is out, to some degree, among non-Italian Americans now, but we are hoping to expand our product line and rebrand for the American market. We can't keep it on the shelves all of a sudden and it seems like a good time to capitalize on the name recognition."

"I completely agree; the sooner the better," Angela said.

Tony felt sheepish for mocking Angela, though he still didn't feel good about Matteo's intentions toward her. "Angela, I'm going to get another drink, would you like one?"

"Actually, Tony, I think we are about to sit down to dinner. I'd be happy to show you the way," Matteo said. Angela looked around and noticed the crowd trickling down the path to another veranda on the side of the house.

"Give us a just a second there, Matteo. I need to talk to Angela. We'll be there in a moment." Matteo nodded and made his way down the path, as Tony pulled Angela aside by the elbow.

"Angela, I don't trust this guy, " he grumbled under his breath.

"Tony, this is business. A multi-million dollar prospect for the Bower Agency just fell into my lap. I would be crazy not to pursue it."

"I just don't think Matteo has business on the brain. I saw how he looked at you. Trust me on this one. I know my people."

"Tony, your jealousy is so unbecoming. I am surrounded by men all day, every day in my line of work. Do you really think this is the first time someone I work with has tried to flirt with me?" Her eyes widened as she caught the duplicity of her words.

His eyebrows shot up.

"You know what I mean. But I appreciate your...concern. Or jealousy. Whatever that was."

"It's concern," he growled.

"I can handle myself, Tony. I deal with it all the time. And besides, it's not like I flirt back."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, please."

She stiffened and crossed her arms. "I don't appreciate the insinuation that I use my feminine charms to my advantage in the boardroom."

"No, no...you're a consummate professional. I know that. But I also know you're a pretty good flirt."

"Oh really?"

"Really."

"And how do you know that?"

"What do you mean, 'how do I know?' Come on, Ange." He cast her a knowing look.

She glared at him. "You're one to talk."

"Okay, fair enough," he conceded. "Look, I'm sorry, Angela, I just don't want to see this Italian guy getting the wrong idea."

She studied him a moment, as if there was something she wanted to say but she wasn't sure she could say it. He looked like a scolded puppy. She leaned forward, placing a hand on his chest, and whispered in his ear, "There's only one Italian guy I flirt with, Tony. But maybe I should put a stop to that too. We have a professional relationship, and I wouldn't want him to get the wrong idea."

He gulped. "Only one, huh?"

She nodded.

"And you have a professional relationship?"

She nodded again.

"Does he know he's the only one you flirt with?"

"I think he does."

"So how does he feel about you?"

She bit her lip thoughtfully. "I think he's probably curious, at least...to see where it could lead. But he's scared. I think we both are. You know, all the boundaries we have with working together."

"Hmm. I see. So that's why all the flirting, huh?"

"I think so."

"Well that's probably pretty harmless. You know, if it's just the one."

A coy smile danced on her lips. "I think so, too." She looped her hand through his arm. "Now, should we go to dinner?"

"Let's hit it. I'm starving."