by Krista Lakes
“Lucia, Lucia...” I love the way he pants my name.
“Yes,” I gasp, wanting this more than I've ever wanted anything in my life.
He groans, his body going deep into mine. I can feel the bliss radiating through him as he loses himself to me.
We lay there for a while after that. My breathing takes a while to slow down, while Dante seems to catch his almost immediately. He lays there, looking at me, rubbing his fingers up and down my body. I smile at him while tracing the lines of his muscles gently.
“I have to go,” he says after a long time. “I don't want to, but I do.”
I sigh. We never should have done this in the first place. He doesn't know who I really am. I feel a little guilty, but I'm still high on an orgasm, so I don't really feel as guilty as I should.
“Can I see you again?” I ask, watching him as he stands up and starts to pull his boxers back up.
“Tomorrow?” he asks.
I frown. “I have to work. It's important. Maybe the next day?”
We are supposed to meet in two days. I have this quick fantasy of telling him that I'm actually his new fiancee at our family sponsored date. He'd smile and laugh. We'd have a wonderful time.
I hope that's how it goes. I can also see him getting angry at my deception. I know I would be upset if we were reversed.
His brow darkens. He runs his hand through his dark hair and looks up at the ceiling.
“Sorry, I can't. I have to meet someone for my family.”
“That doesn't sound bad,” I say.
His shoulders slump. “I hate to tell you this, but it's the woman my parents want me to marry. I should have told you, but...” He shrugs. “I wanted you.”
I heat hearing him say that. I like knowing that he wants me.
“You didn't make me any promises. Do you know what she looks like at least?” I ask, trying to sound innocent. I was shown his picture. Did he not see mine?
“Did you know that veils were used so that a groom wouldn't see how ugly his new arranged marriage bride was until it was too late?” He shrugs. “It's kind of like that. It's better for me not to know.”
He's afraid that I'm going to be ugly. A part of me smiles. He's in for a nice surprise.
“Maybe she'll be the girl of your dreams,” I tell him.
He shrugs and pulls on his shirt. I'm sad to see his bare skin disappear. He looks over at me, a sadness in his dark eyes.
“I doubt it.” He leans forward and kisses my forehead.
“Well, you know where I live now,” I tell him. “Maybe you can come see me again if she doesn't work out.”
He doesn't smile as he looks away. He puts on his pants.
“I had a really great time with you tonight,” he says, looking over at me. He stands up. “Thanks for tonight.”
He kisses my forehead one last time and then leaves my apartment.
I stare after him, still laying naked in my bed. He thinks he's going to have to marry someone terrible. I'm actually sort of looking forward to officially meeting him now.
Chapter 6
“It has been a pleasure seeing you again, Chief O'Brien,” I say with a smile. I'm standing in a fancy hotel ballroom surrounded by powerful people. I wear a dark blue dress that makes me look like I belong here. I look like a socialite.
Today, is a local fundraiser for the police force. A fancy dinner at a hotel with a silent auction afterwards with the intent to raise money. I'm here representing the Savio Mattress Company.
They certainly raised a lot of Savio money today, I think to myself with a smile.
“I'm so glad we still have such a good working relationship,” the man I'm talking to replies. He's in his late sixties, but still looking trim and handsome in his official police uniform. His wife wears diamond earrings that a woman married to a man in the public sector shouldn't be able to afford.
I know that my money paid for those, too.
“It's important for local businesses to have ties to the community,” I respond with a practiced smile. “I'm so glad that you are willing to work with my family. For the betterment of the community, of course.”
The police chief smiles. This is all a game and we both know it. My family has been paying him for a long time. The police never bother our business operations. It's a good deal for both of us.
“Tell your aunt and uncle hello for me, won't you?” the police chief asks. “Although, I must say, it is wonderful having you here. You're much prettier in a dress than your uncle.”
I chuckle. “I'll make sure to tell him that.”
This is a part of the business that I'm actually very good at. I've slowly been taking over the business. My aunt and uncle want to retire eventually, so they've slowly been training me on things. This year, I've been responsible for all the official meetings. As far as it looks to the outside, I'm simply taking up all the social engagements. However, a lot of business is done at the local events.
Not all of the meetings the mob does are in back alleys or dark offices. Many of them are out in broad daylight. We meet at restaurants and attend social functions. There's no better way to make a company look legitimate than to do legitimate things.
Today, I made sure that the police are still in my pocket. They don't mind us much since we keep to ourselves for the most part. Since we aren't slinging drugs or selling off children, we are a lower threat. Throw some generous “donations” in, and the police force is happy to turn a blind eye to the less-than legal side of my family business.
"Have you met Senator Grayson?" He asks me, motioning to a man coming our direction.
I shake my head no.
"Let me introduce you." He waves hello to the incoming senator. "Senator, this is Cara Savio. She runs Savio Mattresses."
The senator shakes my hand. His firm is firm and strong. He's an older man as most politicians are, with silver hair and pale blue eyes. I'm always wary of men called senator, and even though he looks nice enough, I won't trust him farther than I can throw him.
"It's very nice to meet you, Senator." I smile.
"It's very nice to meet you," he says to me. “Your mother was Caroline Jeffries, right? I once had the privilege of hearing your mother play once. It's stayed with me all these years. She was extraordinary.”
My eyes widen slightly. Not many people put my mother's married name with the Savio family. "Thank you."
"I was actually hoping to meet you here," he says. "The police chief has spoken very highly of you."
My surprise at him knowing my mother diminishes slightly. He did his research on me. I wonder if he really did hear my mother play. It's cynical, but I've had enough experience with politicians not to be stupid.
"I didn't have an interest in supporting politicians that help my family's business," I tell him.
He smiles, but it's a business smile. "I think our interests definitely align in that regard."
"Are you running for re-election?"
He nods. "I'm favored to keep the seat, but I still need every advantage I can get."
"I'll be sure to contribute to your campaign fund," I promise.
It's always good to have a senator in your pocket. It never hurts to have friends in high places. We have enough funds that a donation to buy some good will is a smart plan.
"Thank you very much," he says with a sincere smile. At least it passes as sincere. "Your mother played in Michigan. I believe she was involved with senator Norwood at the time?"
My chest tightens slightly, the way it always does when someone speaks of Senator Norwood.
"Yes." I don't elaborate.
"Are you supporting his campaign as well?"
"Hell no." It comes out stronger than I mean to.
The senator looks surprised. "You don't like him?"
"He was the last person to see my mother alive, and I'm still not convinced there wasn't foul play around her death," I say diplomatically. It's not wise to accuse a powerful politician of murder at a private funct
ion full of politicians. "I'm not his biggest fan."
He nods. "My protege is running against him this election." He leaves the rest open."
"I would be incredibly interested in donating to that campaign," I quickly tell him. "I would love nothing better than to see him lose."
The senator gives me a predatory smile. "I'll be sure to get you his information," he says. "I have to say, senator Norwood is not my favorite person either. I'm not sure how scandal hasn't taken him down yet."
"He has a lot of money and money buys loyalty," I tell him. That's true for my business as well.
"Yes, but it only buys it for a time. Bought loyalty is different than shared interest," Senator Grayson replies. "I believe you and I have a shared interest."
Senator Grayson would make a great mobster. But, then the qualities that make a good mob boss would also prove useful in politics.
“Why don't you like the senator?” I ask, giving him a coy smile. I doubt the senator killed his mother.
“He's not only a rival, he's a scum-ball,” the senator replies. “I've seen the things he gets away with and I don't approve. He gives politicians a bad name.”
I raise my eyebrows slightly. I wonder if the senator is just trying to impress me or if he really does think Norwood is slime. Either way, I feel like we're on the same team, which was what he was going for.
“Please make sure I get the information for your race and your protege,” I tell him.
“I'll be sure to do that,” he replies. “It really was a pleasure meeting you, Cara.”
“Likewise.”
“And just so you don't think that I'm just trying to get on your good side, I saw your mother perform Clair de Lune on September eighteenth. She wore a dark blue dress not too different than the one you're wearing now. I still remember it because it was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.”
It hits me like a punch to the gut. That was a real performance. He really did hear my mother play.
Suddenly, I just want to go home. I don't want to smile and be polite to men only interested in me for my money and what I can give them.
I thank the senator and quickly make my goodbyes to go home.
Chapter 7
I hurry home. I'm a ball of emotions. Thoughts of my mother and Senator Norwood run through my head. I've tried to avoid anything to do with Norwood. He knows who I am. He tried to get custody of me after my mother died, but luckily she had a will that made it so I went with my aunt and uncle.
I sometimes have nightmares of what would have happened to me if I'd lived with him instead. I probably wouldn't be alive.
I need to eat. Food always makes me feel better. I call Sara, wanting to see her. She always knows how to make me feel better.
“Hello?” I hear a groggy voice on the other end of the phone.
“Sara? Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, yeah, just a little hungover. What's up?”
It isn't like Sara to drink with a client, even on a Saturday night. “Well, I got a crazy story to tell about Delgado, but it sounds like you've got a story to tell also. Want some pie?”
I'm not really hungry, but I want the company.
“Yeah, I could use some food.”
Just like the other day, I beat Sara down to the diner. This time, however, she doesn't make a grand entrance. An average looking girl wearing a pair of sweat pants and pajama top opens the door to the diner. Not a single head turns as she makes her way over to me.
“You look awful,” I say with a disarming smile.
“Yeah, well...” she says, trailing off. As she slumps into the chair across from me, she seems kind of out of it.
“Hey, are you okay?” I ask. She looks a little green around the edges and her hair and skin are dull.
“I feel better today, but Friday... I spent yesterday recovering. I had a little too much to drink trying to forget.”
“Why's that?”
She shudders a little, as if she doesn't want to remember the details. “I got a call from a photographer, night before last. Some girl got sick and had to cancel on him, so he was desperate. The amount he offered was more than I usually get for a modeling gig, so I took it.”
“Doesn't sound so bad,” I say. Sara often did modeling work not through her agency. It was an easy way to get some extra money on free nights.
She laughs, but it's a hollow laugh. “Not yet. I thought the extra money was just because it was last minute. It was an escort job. And not the willing kind.”
“Are you okay?” I ask, worried.
“I called Ethan when things got rough. He rescued me.” She wraps her arms around herself. “He was the only person I could think of.”
“What part of town where you in?” I ask, thinking of my family business. We don't condone this kind of thing.
“North. On the edge of Savio territory. That's why I thought I was safe.” Sara sniffles.
North is Russo territory.
This isn't good for our two families. We are trying to make an alliance, but I won't join with people who force women into sex.
“I'll get to the bottom of this,” I tell Sara.
Sara looks at me with big, scared eyes. The Russos let this happen. I've been thinking all this time of just the normal repercussions of marriage. I haven't stop to consider the political ramifications. There are things that need to be discussed.
If this is business as usual, then I don't know if I can marry him.
“Let's get some food in you,” I say. I know I think better on a full stomach.
Sara nods. We both stare at our menus, not really looking at the food options. I need to find out exactly what the Russos are doing before I sign on the dotted line.
My mind is going a million miles per minute. I can't seem to focus for more than a couple of seconds on anything. Too much anger. Too much anxiety. Too much responsibility.
I sit down at the piano and start to play. As I begin to play the song, I think of how great it sounds. Stick with the plan, the voice in my head says, and everything will turn out just fine.
Then I think of how much better it sounded when Dante was sitting there in the piano bar, playing just a few notes that intersected with mine. I think of when we made love, how our bodies seemed to play off of one another to make beautiful music.
It doesn't match with Sara's experience.
For now, I decide to just wait. When I see him again, I can decide what my feelings actually are. I don't have to decide right this second. I can just live in the moment for a little while and see where things take me. I'll see him soon enough. I'm just meeting him tomorrow. It's not like the wedding is planned yet.
When my intercom buzzes, I think about not answering it, but only for a moment. Almost no one knows where I live. It's probably just a lost visitor for someone else. I sigh and press the button.
“Hello?”
“Vesper.”
Dante's voice sends warm shivers down my spine. I'm suddenly giddy at seeing him again. It's at complete odds with what I was just feeling, but I don't care. “Come up.”
I buzz him in, and find myself nervous the entire time that he's on his way up.
He shows up at my door looking like a rebel without a cause. Leather jacket, sexy jeans, and a windblown look to his hair that screams that he just doesn't care.
My breath catches in my lungs for a moment, but I recover quickly. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you. It's stupid, but...” He shrugs.
My whole body warms as I smile.
“Want to go for a ride?” he asks.
I frown, not understanding.
“Motorcycle.”
It's December and there is no way I'm getting on the back of motorcycle without a helmet with the head of a rival crime lord. That has bad idea written all over it.
“I'll make you a deal, Bond. When you get two helmets, I'll ride with you.”
He smiles. “Deal. So, I did intend to bring you to my favor
ite diner, but...”
“But we would need to travel there by bike,” I finish for him.
He taps his nose with his finger. “I do know of a great New York pizza place.”
I smile. “If you're buying, I'm in.”
The pizzeria is exactly where I expect a teenager to hang out, not a mobster. Still, some of my favorite first dates had been in places just like this. “Is there anything you don't like?” he asks me.
I shake my head. When you have a job like mine, you learn to like a wide variety of foods and activities that you never thought you would.
That seems to make him happy. “One with everything on it,” he says, then grabs a soda from the counter. We head to a booth.
There's not even an ingredient list on the wall, so it's a real mystery to me what we're getting. “What all is 'everything'?” I ask.
Dante smiles and shakes his head. “You'll see.” I can tell he's enjoying my apprehension.
I decide to test him out. I want to know how he's going to react tomorrow when we officially meet. “Do you like surprises, Bond?”
He looks away from me. “Yeah, sure. I mean nothing really surprises me that much.”
“Oh yeah, Mr. Tough Guy. I'm sure you just expected to talk me into sleeping with you the other night.”
He smiles, looks away again, and shrugs. It's the perfect level of cockiness and just manages to turn me on even more. I slap his arm and he leans over and kisses me. A few moments later I laugh as I realize I'm making out in a pizzeria like a teenager again. If nothing else, Bond will keep me young.
We keep kissing until the guy at the counter calls Dante's name. He jumps out of the booth and grabs the pizza, setting it down in front of me. It's a steaming mess of what seems like a thousand different ingredients.