“Are you going to cut me some slack?” he asked.
“What do you think?”
“Probably not.”
“Probably right.” I furrowed my brow. “For what exactly am I supposed to cut you slack?”
“What I’m about to say.” He radiated confidence, his mesmerizing eyes drawing me in, and I saw something in them I never expected, something I imagined was rare. Excitement.
“I’m listening.”
“You were right.”
“So far so good.”
“Don’t you want to know what about?”
I leaned closer. “Absolutely, but I’m not going to beg.” Our eyes battled, and I felt he could see through me all the way to my innermost core.
He let that opening slide. “A woman worth spending time with doesn’t fall at your feet right away. She demands attention but doesn’t need it. Makes you earn her respect and in turn earns yours.” My heart pounded in my ears as he spoke. “It’s wanting to know the little things about her—that she tucks her hair behind her ear when I say something she likes, and one side of her mouth turns down when I say something she doesn’t. That she gives not for what she will receive, but simply because it’s the desire of her heart to do for others.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He got me. Understood exactly what I wanted and was giving it to me. I held my breath as he continued.
“It’s knowing how much she loves her old ballet slippers, and how much sweeter that will make it when I finally take them off.” He paused, and I dug my nails into my palms at the implication.
“Knowing she’s determined and stubborn and won’t do anything she doesn’t want to, it’ll mean so much more when she says yes. It will be an affirmation that she finds me worthy.” He tugged me closer, erasing what little distance was left between us. “I never gave a damn about any of this with anyone before. But with you, Vivian, every time I find out something new about you, I want to know more.” I looked up at him silently, afraid to say anything that might break the spell he’d cast over the space we occupied. “I’d like to spend the day with you tomorrow. The entire day, with no expectations beyond the pleasure of your company and seeing how many times I can get you to do this.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and my heart skipped a beat…or twelve. “Please.”
I fixed a smug look on my face to hide the fact that I was spinning. “You almost blew it, Princess.” I dug my index finger into his chest. “You saved yourself at the last second.”
“So is that a yes?”
“That is a yes.”
Chapter Thirteen
Daniel
Present
“It’s been a long time.”
I cringed inwardly at the voice I’d never forget no matter how much time elapsed.
“Not long enough,” I said, full well meaning it.
Cold laughter echoed through the warehouse. “You look just like your old man.” There were few things he could say that were more insulting. “Must have gotten your smarts from your mother.”
“What do you want, Angelone?” I widened my stance as he made a broad circle, looking around into the dark shadows.
“Interesting choice of meeting place,” he commented when he stopped. The look he gave me was pointed. He knew why I’d bought the warehouse, understood my need for power over the past.
“Figured you were familiar with it.”
His lip curled up. “We’re on your turf now, huh?” I was still a scared shitless kid in his eyes and he the big, bad don. He was wrong. I wasn’t even close to the same boy that had stood before him all those years ago.
“Get to the point,” I prompted, itching to do something as he paced.
“Don’t believe I’m here to catch up with my property?”
“I belong to no one,” I grated out, the familiar flicker of my temper igniting.
Angelone tapped his index finger to his lips. Time had been kind to him. He hadn’t aged all that much from the last time I’d seen him nearly thirty years ago. The air of authority still swirled around him. Only this time, I wasn’t afraid of anything he could do to me.
“Hmm. I believe you do, Elliott. You traded one life of servitude with me for another with Salvatore. That motherfucker has you by the balls.”
I clenched my fists at my sides, which only made Angelone grin.
“And if it isn’t Salvatore, then that pretty little girl—what’s her name? Ah, Vivian. It’s Vivian, isn’t it?” I took a step forward, and his smile only broadened. He was goading me. I knew it. Yet it took every bit of my restraint not to tackle the fucker. “She is a lovely piece,” he mused.
I wanted to bash his skull on the concrete floor until he never had another thought about her again. Instead, I ground my teeth and waited impatiently for him to get to the fucking point.
“You owe me.”
“I owe you nothing,” I scoffed.
“Because of you and Salvatore, I spent six years up the river.”
Jesus Christ, he sounded like a poor man's Don Corleone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said to him, trying not to laugh in his face. I looked down at my suit, examined the lapels of my jacket. “Last I checked, I’m no fed. So I’d say there’s no way that I had anything to do with your trip to prison.” I shrugged. “Maybe you should have tried to be more law abiding.”
His jaw worked as he tried to tamp down his own temper. At least I had an effect on him too. “I want something.”
“Don’t we all?”
He glared, and I shoved my hands into my pockets. “You’ll get it for me.”
“That’s a pretty big assumption.” I feigned disinterest. Even started toward the door.
“Your father was a stupid man. A stupid, stupid man.”
I stopped, my brows dipped as I stared at Angelone. “I won’t argue with that.”
“What he did to you got him killed.”
The hairs on my neck stood at attention. “He killed himself.”
The look was unimpressed, as if disappointed in my naiveté. He lifted a shoulder. “Whatever you say.”
He knew something. I wasn’t going to give him any more information, if that’s what he wanted.
“I think we’re done here.” I spun on my heel, but only made it two steps before he spoke.
“The jaune.”
Unease slithered through me even as I kept a neutral expression on my face. Donato and I had a buyer looking for the largest known canary diamond, the existence of which was only a rumor to most people. But I knew it was real, and where it was. How Angelone was aware we were negotiating to purchase it had my hackles up. And more than that, how did he know our code word for it?
“I have no idea what you mean.” I feigned ignorance while my insides were churning with possibility. Did we have a rat? Or was the owner of the diamond playing me?
He tilted his head to the side, face awash with disappointment. “Don’t play stupid with me, son. That’s straight out of your old man’s book.”
My lip curled up in disgust. These insults were beneath me, yet they dug deep. I tried to let them bounce off, but he’d struck a nerve.
“You’ve wasted both of our time.” I resumed my trek toward the door.
Angelone placed a hand on my chest to stop me. I looked down at it and rose a brow in an are you sure you want to go this route gesture.
“You. Owe. Me,” he reiterated.
I sniffed. “No. I don’t.”
“I want in on that diamond. I know you know where it is.”
“It makes no difference to me what you think you know. Now get out of my warehouse.”
“You will let me in on this deal,” he said, steel in his voice.
“If there were a deal, I absolutely wouldn’t.”
“I’ll be reasonable. I’ll only take half.” He glossed over my words as if I hadn’t spoken.
My lip curved up in an insincere smile. “Enjoy your half of nothing.”
I
shoved past him, was nearly to the door when he spoke. “How about Donato? Is he nothing?”
I stopped. “Next time you want something from me, play a better hand to get it.” I pretended as if Donato didn’t factor into anything. We both knew he did. I hated being backed into a corner, but if he continued down this path, it would be a tricky one to get out of.
“There are many, many ways to make him suffer.” His stare penetrated and spoke of something he hadn’t voiced. “But if you work with me, I can make his situation go away.”
“If you wanted to make him suffer, you’d have done it a long time ago.” There had been skirmishes over the years between the Salvatores and Angelones, but overall, they had remained remarkably civil. If either of them had wanted to get rid of the other, it could have been done a thousand times over. They weren’t allies, but they benefited from each other’s existence. Donato didn’t want a war, and I didn’t believe Angelone did either.
“Very true, but I’ve refrained. Now I see no reason to.” His finger slid across his lower lip. “But maybe ensuring Donato’s well-being isn’t the right incentive for you. Maybe I should focus on Vivian and that other stunning woman who lives with you.”
The way he spoke of them made me lunge for him. I grabbed the lapels of his jacket and shook. He grinned. I’d shown him my weakness. The number one rule, and I’d broken it.
“It would be a shame to mar either of those pretty faces, but—” He shrugged, and I struggled not to kill him with my bare hands.
“Do not threaten my family.” I shoved him and took slight satisfaction when he stumbled.
“Let me in on the deal, and I’ll owe you.”
That gave me pause. I could do with a man like Angelone owing me a favor. He didn’t hand those out easily. But I was trying to get out of this world. Somehow, I kept getting in deeper.
Besides, didn’t he want in to settle the debt he believed I owed him? This reeked to high heaven. There was only one possible response.
“Fuck you.”
I stalked out to my car and cursed under my breath. I had a problem. A fucking whale of one.
Chapter Fourteen
Vivian
Present
“They’re so full of energy.”
Kindergarteners buzzed around the playground at Saint Pius while Muriella and I ate our lunch.
“That’s why I like being around them so much.” She gazed over them with a bittersweet smile, longing in her eyes.
“I thought it was to get away from me,” I teased, desperate to do anything to take that look off her face.
She threw a baby carrot at me. “Was I that obvious?”
I stuck my tongue out at her. “Have you gotten used to being the aide for a teacher who used to be your student?”
“It’s weird,” she admitted. “Hard to believe I knew her when she was five.”
The young teacher was right in the middle of her students as they built a castle in the large sand pit.
“They still asking you to come five days a week?” I dunked a slice of cucumber into the homemade hummus. Muriella had been a teacher’s aide at the church school for longer than I’d known her.
“Always. I spoiled them those few years I did four, but three is all I can handle.” She pointed toward the dip. “I added a little more cumin. What do you think?”
“Better than the store bought,” I answered honestly.
She chewed thoughtfully, considering, before her expression turned serious. “Come back home with me. I don’t like you in that old apartment by yourself.”
“I’m perfectly safe.”
She cut her eyes over to mine. “You shouldn’t be alone. Not right now.”
“I’m not. I’m with you.”
“Smarty pants.” She wiped away a crumb that fell on my sleeve. “Besides, being close, Daniel couldn’t avoid you.”
My stomach turned sour, and I set down my half-eaten pita chip. “Did she stay last night?” I held my breath, even though deep in my gut I already knew the answer.
Muriella’s eyes turned sympathetic. “When I went up to take him breakfast, the apartment was empty. I checked the bedroom.” She shrugged unapologetically. “Only one side of the bed was unmade. There was a picture of the two of you on the nightstand.”
I smiled to myself, knowing it was the one I’d put in his pillow case. This news made me feel marginally better.
“I don’t want you to spy for me. I’m not going to pump you for information or put you in the middle. I just—I needed to know about her.” Unwelcome jealousy seared through me as I thought about Daniel taking that beautiful woman to our bed.
“If it helps get you home, I’ll put a bugging device in his clothes. Now eat.” She picked up my abandoned pita chip and held it to my lips.
I accepted, chewing slowly.
Triumphant cheers came from the direction of the playground. The kids had their teacher surrounded in the sand. She laughed as a little girl dumped a bucket of soft balls on top of her head.
“Do they vacuum everybody off before they head back inside?” I pointed toward the scene, only imagining the mess all that sand would make.
Muriella snorted. “They should. There’ll be a trail of sand through the school.” She smiled fondly at the children. “But they love that pit.”
“Yeah, they do.”
I pushed my plate away and patted my stomach. “I’m done. I can’t eat any more.”
She eyed my empty paper plate and made a noise of satisfaction. “What time’s your meeting?”
“Two.” I piled up the glass containers that held the remnants of our lunch and put them in the insulated bag I’d brought it in. “You have any mints?”
M looked at me like I’d asked a silly question. She passed me her oversized tote. “In there.”
I found the mints in a side pocket, exactly where they were supposed to be. But I also discovered something much more interesting.
“Mind if I keep this?” I asked far too innocently, holding up her copy of the magazine with Stone on the cover.
Her fingers tightened around a carrot stick, snapping it in half. “Don’t.”
“Fine. Fine. I’ll just check it out now.” The pages of his spread were worn. My M couldn’t help herself from looking at him. “He is impressive on a horse.” There was a particularly great shot of him nose to nose with a chestnut mare. This photograph was exactly why women fell in love with him. Strong, with a hint of sensitivity.
Muriella’s eyes filled with longing when she gazed down at the open magazine. They met mine, steel in them now. “According to that,” she said with disgust, “he’s on a shoot in Egypt.”
“Daniel mentioned that a while back.” I chewed my mint, and M’s nostrils flared.
“He’s talked to him?” She tossed her empty plate on top of mine.
“Yeah. Stone thinks we should go back over and explore the pyramids again on our next trip.”
She growled. “I thought he was too busy for us.”
I fought a wicked smile. “I only know what I’m told.” Her glare was lethal, and I shivered in mock fear. “You don’t care anyway, right?”
A noncommittal grumble escaped her.
“Tribeca Film Festival is in April. At least we know we’ll see him then,” I said, unable to stop pushing.
“That’s six months from now,” she said, her voice a rising protest. M snapped her mouth shut when she realized what she’d done.
“I don’t know why you don’t just call him. Hell, text him. He hates that, but I guarantee he’d love to hear from you.”
She finished cleaning up our lunch, quiet for a minute.
“I can’t. You know why.”
The understated pain in her voice was enough to shut me up. I wanted her to be happy. To find what Daniel and I had had. But I couldn’t stand to hurt her.
“Yes, I know.” The subject of Stone was effectively closed.
She checked her watch. “I’d better get back to it.�
��
I stuck the magazine back in her purse and stood. “Thanks for lunch. We should do this again sometime,” I teased, like we didn’t meet nearly every day.
She grinned and gave me a quick hug. “I’m open tomorrow.”
I pointed at her. “I’ll hold you to it.”
* * *
The budget meeting with the director of Paths of Purpose went better than planned. We’d received a million-dollar donation anonymously that morning, which gave us lots of breathing room. My excitement was nothing compared to what it would have been under normal circumstances. A donation that size would have been worth celebrating, but I couldn’t muster up much enthusiasm.
I went back to my small office in the new facility. I closed myself inside, mostly avoiding going back to the old apartment. There was work to be done, but I couldn’t concentrate. I just stared out the window without really seeing anything.
Daniel was front and center in my thoughts. That was nothing new, but now it hurt to think of him, and I couldn’t get used to it.
Why was I too chickenshit to confront him? He’d blindsided me, and I’d barely fought back. That wasn’t like me. I went after what I wanted, had learned to squash my fear and man up, so to speak. But I’d never been this afraid of anything before. I knew that deep down, I was scared shitless that Daniel really did want me out of his life. I was cowering in fear instead of leading the charge with guns blazing. As long as I avoided him, there was hope. Without closure, I could hang onto whatever delusions I could conjure up.
But seeing him at the restaurant was like a death blow. It had been the best and worst part of my day, the contradiction tearing me apart. How is it that men have this ability to look better after they leave you? It was like they did it on purpose, and damn if it didn’t leave me wanting. This had been the longest stretch I’d gone without fucking since I’d been with Daniel. My last night at the apartment, I’d masturbated with his pillow under my hips so my scent would be all over it when he got home, but the orgasm didn’t have the potency of the ones he gave me. I was hungry for him. He’d created needs in me that only he could fill, made me vulnerable in that way.
It's Not Over Page 10