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Back First Comes Love Save as PDF
Chapters (92)
  1. First
  2. Love Connection
  3. Zero
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. One Month Later
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Six Months Later
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-one
  27. Twenty-two
  28. Twenty-three
  29. Twenty-four
  30. Six Months Later
  31. Twenty-five
  32. Twenty-six
  33. Twenty-seven
  34. Twenty-eight
  35. Twenty-nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-one
  38. Thirty-two
  39. Thirty-three
  40. I Have Never
  41. One
  42. Two
  43. Three
  44. Four
  45. Five
  46. Six
  47. Seven
  48. Eight
  49. Nine
  50. Ten
  51. Eleven
  52. Twelve
  53. Thirteen
  54. Fourteen
  55. Fifteen
  56. Sixteen
  57. Seventeen
  58. Eighteen
  59. Nineteen
  60. Twenty
  61. Twenty-one
  62. Twenty-two
  63. A Christmas Date
  64. One
  65. Two
  66. Three
  67. Four
  68. Five
  69. Six
  70. Seven
  71. Eight
  72. Nine
  73. Ten
  74. Eleven
  75. Twelve
  76. Thirteen
  77. Fourteen
  78. Fifteen
  79. Sixteen
  80. Seventeen
  81. Eighteen
  82. Nineteen
  83. Twenty
  84. Twenty-one
  85. Twenty-two
  86. Note from the Author
  87. Sneak Peek – To the Stars and Back
  88. Two
  89. Three
  90. Four
  91. Also by Camilla Isley
  92. About the Author

“Guests first,” my mom chimes in. Eager to end the vegan discussion, I’m sure. She serves Paul and Diego, and then me and Dad. “Well, everyone, enjoy your meal… Bon appétit!”

“Bon appétit,” we all reply. Well, all except for Diego, who goes for a slightly different version, saying, “Buon appetito.”

“Is that Italian I hear, young man?” Dad asks.

“Yes, sir, I’m part Italian from my mother’s side.”

“Please, call me Jason,” my dad says. “So, you speak Italian?”

“Bene come l’Inglese.” Diego smiles.

“Oh,” Julia gasps. “I’ve always wanted to learn Italian.”

I think of my sister’s secret list of qualities for her perfect man, and mentally check off “speaks Italian.” I should also check off tall, dark, and with smoldering green eyes. She’s seen that.

“So, Diego, what is it that you do in New York?” my mom asks. “Nikki hasn’t told us much.”

“I’m an actor,” Diego replies.

The declaration is followed by a prolonged moment of silence.

“An actor?” my dad repeats. “What kind of acting?”

“Theater on Broadway would be the dream, of course, but for now I scrape by with whatever I can get. Commercials, modeling… Christmas is always good, so many Santa gigs are available.”

“Y-you play Santa at the mall?” my mom asks.

My parents are still a bit too “middle class” for this kind of future-son-in-law. I’d feel sorry for them, if not for the years of pestering me about settling down. This is like a small, sweet revenge.

“Yeah, but I mainly work as a server to pay the bills. Until my big break comes, I’m living paycheck to paycheck.”

Julia is openly gaping right now. I mentally check “struggling artist” off the list. I can’t wait for Diego to tell her he rides a motorcycle.

Dad, on the other hand, isn’t impressed. “How old are you?” he asks.

Guess we’re not over the “lack of a proper enough career to date my daughter” topic.

“Twenty-eight,” Diego answers.

“And do many actors have big breaks when they’re close to thirty? I thought they all had to start much earlier…”

“Depends on—”

“Diego’s job is actually how we met,” I interrupt. “We bumped into each other at the agency.” Then, wanting to make it clear the third degree is over—I might be paying Diego, but no one deserves to be grilled this hard—I turn to Mom. “Mom, you’ve outdone yourself. It’s like your mac and cheese gets better every year.”

“Yeah, truly delicious.” Paul and Diego echo my compliments. “Amazing recipe.”

“And how is yours?” I ask Julia.

She narrows her eyes at me. “Healthier, for sure.”

Uh-oh, someone sounds a little sour…

Twelve

Better Eat Your Vegetables