by Piper Rayne
Ash nods but stays quiet.
“Let’s go.” I signal with my arm, swinging it toward my office once more.
“Bye, Ash,” Val says, finally stepping into my office.
“Bye, Mrs. Mancini.” She’s laughing, but Val doesn’t hear her because she’s already sitting on a chair inside.
“Nice,” I say to my assistant.
Ash shrugs. “You know as well as I do that this isn’t some fake marriage, but I’ll play along if you want.” She slides her chair so her back is to me and her hand is on her computer mouse.
Instead of arguing, I walk in and shut my office door. Then I make my way over to my desk and sit across from my wife.
“I’m still surprised you were screwing another broker.” Val crosses her legs and I chance a glance at her long limbs. She’s trying to catch me off guard, but I meet her gaze straight-on.
“Why?”
“You always said you didn’t sleep with people you worked with. That it complicated things.”
I vaguely remember that conversation, but that was before Val broke me. Nell presented herself as a way to get over our break-up.
I shrug. “Things change.”
“Good to know your values can shift as dramatically as a pendulum.”
“Technically a pendulum swings with precision.”
She rolls her eyes and juts out her jaw. “Whatever, Mr. Smarty Pants.”
“Okay, Miss Jealous.”
She scoffs. “I’m not jealous.”
“Don’t worry. I take it as a compliment.”
She points at me. “Stop it.”
I bring my hands up in front of me. “I’m not doing anything.”
She stands and tosses my wallet onto my desk. “Here.”
“Thanks.” I slide it into the inside pocket of my jacket. “I can take you to lunch as a thank you.”
“You’d leave work to take me to lunch?” Her condescending tone makes me want to say forget it.
“What can I say? Marriage has made me a changed man.”
She rolls her eyes again.
“Keep doing that and they’re going to get stuck.”
She sticks out her tongue. “I have to get back to work. Young bodies to build into dancers.”
I nod. “Thanks for the wallet.”
“No problem. Isn’t that what all good wives would do?”
Val pauses by the door, and for some reason, I can’t let her go without explaining who Nell is. “She was just a casual hook-up. Nothing serious.”
For a moment, I don’t think she’s going to turn around, but she does, seriousness transforming her face. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“And for some reason, I want to give you one. She was a way to get over you. That’s all.”
She turns back toward the door. I want to beg her to ask the question—did it work?—because in this moment, I’d tell her the truth. No.
“I’ll be late tonight.” She opens the door and leaves.
She gives Ash a hug and they exchange some words, then hug again before she heads toward the elevators. I lean back in my chair, unable to concentrate on work. I fear I’m getting sucked in all over again, and I promised myself after the last time that I’d never let that happen.
Chapter Thirteen
Valentina
* * *
Dom and I stay out of each other’s hair during the week. He’s figured out my schedule, and when I’m at the studio for night classes, he’s already in his room when I come home, and vice versa on the days he works late.
Weekends pose a different problem. This one, we’re due to have a big Sunday family dinner at the Mancinis’. Our parents insisted on our presence this week because they fear the truth—that we’re going through the motions but not actually trying to make this marriage work.
Dom returns home on Sunday around noon, a sweaty mess from playing basketball with his brothers. I feel like a slacker since I’m binge-watching Good Girls on Netflix with my coffee and the donuts I had delivered out of pure laziness.
He eyes me and drops his duffle bag next to the entryway table, his keys hitting the ceramic dish a second later. I pretend not to notice so I don’t have to engage. I’ve had long sex droughts in my life, but being around Dom all the time makes it feel as though I’ve been celibate for twenty years.
“Good morning,” he says, walking into the kitchen.
“Afternoon.”
He glances at the microwave clock. “So it is.”
I look away again and try to get back into my show. I hear him open the fridge, but I don’t know what he’s doing until he plops down beside me on the couch.
“What are you watching?” He opens one of those green drinks that scream good health and probiotics, then downs half of it.
“Just a show on Netflix.”
“Is that what it’s called? Just a Show on Netflix?” He eyeballs me then my bag of donut holes, smirking.
“No, it’s not. What?” I crumple up the bag and set it aside, sipping my coffee.
“You and your sweets.” He smiles as though it amuses him.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Mr. Health Nut.”
He’s really not. I’ve seen him consume bags of taco-flavored Doritos.
“I prefer when you call me hubby more than these stupid mister names you keep making up.” He pulls the ottoman closer and puts up his feet. He’s barefoot, but I can see the outline from his socks and shoes from when he was playing basketball.
“Sorry I don’t please you.”
“I’ll let you please me if you really want to.” He opens his arms and looks at his lap. When I toss a pillow at him, he laughs. “Are you gonna share?”
I pass him the bag of donut holes.
“So what’s the show? What am I missing?”
Clearly, he’s not going to let this go, so I pause the show. I don’t want to miss anything—especially if Rio has a scene.
“I’m still on the first season. It’s about these three women who all need money and decide to rob a grocery store…” I tell him about the series.
He pulls two donut holes out of the bag—a glazed and a red velvet one—and pops them into his mouth as he listens. He actually looks as if he’s interested in what I’m saying.
“All right, cool. Press Play.” He leans back and wiggles his ass into the couch as though he’s going to spend the rest of the afternoon there.
I press Play, and we watch television together for a while. It isn’t until the break between episodes that he asks me to pause it for a second.
“I’m going to make a sandwich. You want one?” He disappears into the kitchen.
“Sure, but I can make it.”
“Val, let me make you a sandwich. There’s no hidden agenda in it. I promise.”
“Okay.”
He doesn’t ask what I want because he knows. One of my favorite times with Dom were the nights when we’d have sex then eat. That’s when I learned what a talented cook he is and when he found out how sexy I find him cooking. We usually ended up having sex again before he was finished preparing the meal.
“I booked the tickets to Luca’s wedding. We’re leaving on the Thursday night because of the rehearsal and coming home late Sunday. And I have bad news about the hotel.”
I swivel in the corner of the couch and look back at him. “Let me guess, we’re sharing a bed?”
“I could lie and say they only had king-size beds, but I scored two double beds. That’s the bad news.” He winks, and I hate that I wish there was only a king room left. “If you want to take our chances, I could try to get us two rooms, but if Ma finds out…”
“We’ll manage. Just let me know what I owe you.”
He moves from the fridge to the counter, then he’s heading back over with two plates and a bag of taco-flavored Doritos. “It’s my cousin’s wedding. You don’t owe me anything.” He hands me my plate.
“Thanks. But I’d like to pay my way.”
“Stop it.” H
e rests his plate on the coffee table and sits next to me. Opening the bag of Doritos with ease, he smiles at me. “It’s not a big deal.”
“And we’ll be done pretending after the wedding?” I take a bite of my roast beef and turkey sandwich, complete with mayo, lettuce, and a hint of Dijon.
“I guess we will be.” He leans forward and bites his sandwich. “Let’s watch more. We don’t have to be at my parents’ until four.”
I press Play and pretend that the idea of our fake marriage being over doesn’t bother me. We spend the afternoon watching television, and though I yearn to snuggle up to him in the hopes that something more might happen between us, I stay on my side, tucked into the corner, while he sprawls out as though he has no issue trying to keep us platonic.
I guess I’m the only one who still feels something between us.
At three-thirty, I walk down the hall to find Dom waiting in the living area, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. This time they aren’t gym shorts but a nice greenish-blue, and a gray V-neck. His hair is gelled after being freshly showered.
His gaze falls down my yellow summer dress with skimpy straps. It shows off my dancer body and I knew when I took it off the hanger that Dom would like it on me. A heavy breath leaves his lungs, and hunger spills from his eyes. How many times this week have I begged him in my mind to take me? Too many to count.
“Ready?” he asks, his voice cracking as he opens the door.
“Yeah.” I arrange my purse crossways over my body and walk out of his condo.
We make it down the elevator and past the doorman.
“Subway or taxi?” he asks once we’re on the street.
I’m busying staring at the blue sky as the sun warms my exposed skin. “Um… subway?”
“Okay.” He heads in the direction of the station.
I’m surprised he’s willing to take the longer way to his parents’. “If you’d rather—”
“No, it’s fine.”
We walk side by side without saying much other than commenting about a store or some other mundane topic. When we reach the subway, the train is just pulling into the station and we hop on. Forty-five minutes later, we’re in Brooklyn.
Once we get off at Carroll Street and we arrive in our old stomping grounds, Dom’s hand slides into mine. I look between us and he says, “For appearance’s sake.”
My insides do cartwheels as he guides me down the street.
“I feel bad for not coming over earlier and helping,” I say as we round the corner. “That’s what a good Italian daughter-in-law does.”
“She’s got Annie. She acts like an Italian daughter-in-law even though I think she’s part German or something.”
“She and Enzo seem happy.”
“They are.”
“And Bella and Carm too.”
“Yep.”
“How’s Blanca?” I saw her in Vegas, but my mind was a million different places, so I didn’t get to have a long conversation with her.
“The usual. Single.”
“Maybe the two of you can move in together when you get older.” I laugh, trying to picture it.
He glances at me from the corner of his eye. “Why?”
“You know how brothers and sisters do that after their parents are gone if they don’t have their own families?”
He stops at the light, and we wait for the pedestrian sign to appear on the pole across from us. “I’m not going to live with Blanca. Plus, I’m sure she’ll get married one day.”
“But not you?” I’m poking the bear, I know, but I can’t help myself.
“I am married.” He smirks at me.
“Not for long. I always wondered what the turnoff was for you. Whether you were against the institution of marriage as a whole or—”
He shoots me an expression to say, “You want to talk about this now?”
I nod.
“I enjoy my work. I like money. I’m not good at multitasking. I tend to be laser-focused on one goal at a time to the detriment of everything else.”
“I think you’re wrong about the multitasking part, but I agree that work and money are what you’re most obsessed with. But you can have that and a wife.”
“Technically, I already do.”
I tilt my head in a “come on” manner.
“We both know that when it came to you, my work was our Achilles’ heel. It was our weakness in spite of our overall strength, and it destroyed anything we could’ve built.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat at the reminder that once upon a time, he chose work over me. “Maybe one day you’ll meet a woman who will make you feel differently.”
He stops us before we hit his parents’ street. Backing me up into an alley, he positions me against the brick wall. “Let me be clear. If there was a woman in this world who could change me, it’d be you.”
His eyes lock with mine, and though I can’t read what’s in them, I lean forward, wanting to kiss him. All those feelings for him haven’t died inside me—I just try to ignore them. But with his admission, I want to believe that I could be enough for him. Enough for him to put work aside and make me his priority. But since he stays upright, not showing any signs of admitting anything to himself, I choose to quiet my heart.
Without any other words, he takes my hand and pulls me back onto the street. We walk in silence up the steps of his childhood home and he opens the door to a packed house. We both smile and play our part as spouses. For the first time ever, I realize with certainty that there’s never going to be a happy ever after for Dom and me.
Chapter Fourteen
Dominic
* * *
By the time dinner is over, I want to go home and pass out. The emotional drain of pretending Val and I are a happy couple is wearing on me. The only bonus of the situation is being able to touch Val whenever and wherever I want.
After saying our goodbyes, we head back to the subway station. We walk past the alley where I pressed her against the brick wall on the way over. I wanted to smash my lips to hers after divulging that she’s my one. The one I was meant for but am still not good enough for. Because until I know with certainty that I can give her exactly what will make her happy, there’s no future for us. I’ll never break her like Max did.
Heading down the steps of the Carroll Street station, I take her hand. Not for appearance’s sake but because I’ve grown used to touching her and I’ll use the excuse while I can.
After we sit down on the subway train, she rubs her knee absentmindedly.
“Come here.” I pat my leg.
“No. It’s fine.”
I slide her legs over my lap. She doesn’t protest but shifts so that she can lean back. The silky fabric of her dress restricts me from using my thumbs and digging into where she needs relief, so I slide one hand under the hem of her dress, judging if she’s okay with it. She says nothing, so I continue with my second hand, keeping one on her knee for stability and one for massaging.
“It’s funny when you think about it,” she says with her eyes closed.
“What is?”
“How many people hate their in-laws and vice versa? Here we are with both parents pushing us together.” Her giggle turns into a moan when I press on a sensitive spot.
“True.”
“Circumstances aside, it’s nice the way your family kind of pulls mine in. Mama is so happy to be part of a bigger family again. With everyone back in Florence, it’s been hard on her over the years. I haven’t seen her as happy as she was today cooking with your mama and aunts, in a long time.” A small smile forms on her lips. “I wish she could really have that.”
“You know my family. Bigger is better.”
“Thank you. Even if Ma only gets to experience it for a short time. I just… it was nice is all.”
I’ve never thought much about the fact that a lot of my family from Italy is over here. Val’s family is small, and with her parents running the corner grocery store, they aren’t able to get back to Ital
y very often. I take it for granted that I have so many loved ones surrounding me.
“You know they’re always welcome. My parents have an open door.”
“We both know that once we announce the end of our matrimonial bliss, that’ll be done. It would be weird if either of us ever marry again.”
The thought of her with someone else is like swallowing glass, but I respond how I should. “Then I guess you have to find yourself a man with a big Italian family.”
She opens her eyes and stares at me for a second, then slides her legs off my lap. “Thank you.”
I’m pretty sure I saw a flash of hurt in her expression, but we’ve been over this. We’ve tried how many times to be together? And every time we’ve failed. She can’t possibly agree with everyone else that it’s some sign that we ended up married.
Our stop is announced, and I exhale a breath of relief. Conversation over.
Pretty soon we have to address the elephant in the room, but I’m going to toss a blanket over it for tonight because I need to get myself under control. Being this close to her all the time makes it hard to think. I’ve always been a practical guy who weighs risk against reward—that’s basically my job as a trader. But at this point, my dick is going to overrule common sense soon.
I wake up on Monday morning to overhear Val talking to someone on the phone.
“I have a meeting with a guy on Broadway about some dance instruction for his new musical this morning. I can come over right after… Mama, calm down. I’ll call someone.”
I walk out of my bedroom, rubbing my eyes. I’m an early riser, but I swear it’s still dark outside. I lean my shoulder on her bedroom door. “What’s going on?”
“Sorry.” Her eyes widen when she sees me. “Mama, I gotta go. I’ll call someone.”
She clicks her phone off. She’s wearing a cute silk shorts-and-cami pajama set and her nipples are poking through the thin fabric. Her eyes dive down my bare chest and shit… yeah… I’m fucking hard.
“It’s morning.” I shrug.