Just Roll With It (A Perfect Dish Book 4)
Page 2
The RideIt driver pulled up in front of my building right on time. She greeted me with a smile, and then we were on our way.
“Amanda! I haven’t seen you in months.” Ava DiMartino greeted me with a hug and kiss on my cheek. “I’ve missed you.”
“Apparently, not that much,” I teased, reaching for her left hand. “Look at this sparkler. It’s gorgeous, girl! Liam did good.”
Ava beamed. “Didn’t he? The main diamond came from his grandmother’s ring, and the smaller ones were from one that belonged to my great-grandmother. He designed it himself.”
“Overachiever.” I winked as the man himself strolled over and wrapped his arms around his fiancée’s waist, pulling her tight against him. “Hey, buddy, congrats on getting the girl. It’s about time. I was starting to worry that I was going to have to nudge you into proposing.”
“Never.” Liam nuzzled Ava’s neck. She shivered, and a pang of stark loneliness quivered through me. “I know a good thing when I have it. I was just waiting for the perfect time.”
“And this is it.” I lifted my glass of prosecco in a small toast. “I can’t wait to watch you two get married. Giff filled me in on some of the details . . . are you really sticking with the small wedding at Christmas idea?”
“Yup.” Ava nodded. “Giff’s all over the planning, but we’re keeping it small and intimate. In spite of what our mothers want.”
“Good luck with that.” I glanced around the room, taking in the mix of friends and family, some of whom I recognized and some of whom I didn’t. “Your dad isn’t here yet, Liam?”
Ava sighed, and Liam winced. “I don’t think he’s going to show. We had a pretty serious argument last time I saw him, and my mom says he hasn’t been answering her calls or texts. He’s sulking because we won’t do things his way.”
“I’m sorry.” I laid a hand on his arm. “That must suck for you.”
Liam shrugged. “Honestly, it’s easier that he isn’t here. It’s the guilt over feeling that way that’s the worst part, I think. I should want my dad to be part of my life, right? But I’m always happier when he stays away.”
“It’s going to work out.” Ava turned in his arms and kissed the side of his jaw. “He’ll come around eventually. Your father loves you, babe. It’s just . . . he has to learn what’s really important.”
“You’re too nice.” Liam brushed a thumb over Ava’s lips. “My dad doesn’t deserve the grace you give him.”
“Maybe not, but for you, I’d do anything.” Ava rested her cheek on her fiancé’s chest.
“And on that note, I’m going to find Giff and Jeff before I go into a diabetic coma from all the sugar between you two.” I pretended to gag a little, and they both laughed.
“Enjoy yourself tonight, Amanda.” Ava tilted her head. “Giff tells me you’ve been working too hard lately. So have a good time here, and then let’s make sure to get together for lunch soon. We need to catch up.”
“It’s a date.” I winked at her as I began to move across the room.
Mrs. Bailey definitely knew how to throw a party. Jazz played softly in the background, and uniformed servers circulated a variety of foods and specialty cocktails. A bar in the corner offered beer, wine and other mixed drinks. I drained the glass of prosecco that I’d been handed soon after coming in and made my way toward the bar for something more my style.
“It’s probably not exactly PC to say this, but you are the hottest thing on two legs in this whole room.”
Pausing, I answered without looking back. “Then take me away and do me hard, baby. I’ve been waiting all my life to hear those exact words from you.”
“Hey, now. Are you both forgetting about me?” Jeff made a good show of sounding affronted as I turned around to face both men who were grinning at me.
“Sorry, Jeff. I had him first.” Grabbing Giff’s face, I nailed him with a fast, passionate kiss. “The truth is, I ruined him for all women, and that’s why he had to turn to the male population.”
“Your loss was definitely my gain.” Jeff’s hand wandered lower to rest on Gifford’s ass, and my friend actually blushed a little. These two made my heart melt.
“Seriously, cookie, you cleaned up good tonight. I love the hair a little shorter. And that dress—you put the VA into va-va-VOOM!” Giff held my hand, looking me over.
“Thanks. You both look pretty good yourselves. I was about to get a drink. Care to join me?”
“Don’t mind if we do.” Jeff linked his fingers with Giff’s, and together we approached the bar. Giff ordered a white wine, while Jeff stuck with water. I asked for my regular, sniffing the liquor in appreciation as we wandered back toward the center of the room.
“It’s a nice party.” I let my eyes roam over the crowd. “Did you help?”
“I gave Mama Bailey a few tips and pointers, and I suggested the caterer, but otherwise, I left everything in her capable hands. The woman’s been throwing parties and hosting political events since I was in diapers. She knows what she’s doing. She could teach me a thing or two.”
“I doubt that.” I sipped my scotch. “You’re making quite a name for yourself. When I tell people that I actually knew the famous Gifford Mackay way back when, I’m practically a minor celebrity myself. Your parties are becoming legendary, my friend. I’m proud of you.”
Jeff nudged him with an elbow. “See that? You’re the talk of the movers and the shakers now, baby.” He met my eyes. “I keep telling him that he’s headed for the big time. But he worries more than you’d think.”
“I didn’t ever see myself doing this. Planning events,” Giff admitted. “So sometimes it makes me nervous that everything seems to be coming so easily.”
“You work damn hard. Just because you enjoy what you do doesn’t make the work any less meaningful.” Jeff took a long chug of his water bottle. “You’ve got a gift.”
“He’s right.” I poked Giff in the ribs. “And speaking of Jeff being right about everything . . . when are you two going to make this official? Weddings come in threes, don’t they? You just planned Ava’s friend Julia’s wedding, and now Liam’s . . . maybe it’s time to tie the knot yourselves.”
Jeff hooked an arm around Giff’s neck. “We’re going to do it, sooner rather than later. But no big planned event for us. When we get married, I’m whisking him off to the islands, where we can do everything our way, and he doesn’t have to worry about the napkins matching the matchbooks or any shit like that. Just the two of us . . . in a tropical setting . . . lots of rum drinks . . .”
Giff moaned. “Let’s leave tonight. I’m all over that.”
“If I thought you were serious, I’d have you out the door already,” Jeff retorted. “But soon enough.”
“Can a close, personal friend get in on the destination wedding deal?” I sighed. “I could use a vacation, and you need a witness. I promise, I’d pay my own way, and I’d book a room on the other side of the resort.” I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t need to be in the next room for the wedding night shenanigans.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Jeff touched his water bottle to my glass, and we both laughed. As I tossed back my head to finish my drink, my gaze caught on Liam, who was chatting with a man who looked vaguely familiar.
But I was pretty sure I’d have remembered meeting a guy like this one. He was tall, with the kind of build I just knew was solid muscle. He was in black dress pants that fit him well in all the right places and a crisp, white cotton button down shirt that strained over his chest and shoulders. Even as my eyes traveled down his body, he glanced at me, returning the favor as he checked me out, too.
“Giff,” I murmured, never looking away. “Who’s the man candy talking to Liam right now?”
Giff followed the direction of my eyes. “Oooooooh. That’s Ava’s big brother, Vincent. He’s kind of pretty, isn’t he?” He patted Jeff’s back. “No offense, honey.”
“None taken. I’ve always thought it was a shame Vince is straigh
t.” Jeff gave a rueful shake of his head.
“Wait a second. Vincent is the single one, right?” I tried to remember Ava’s family lineup. “He’s not the one who got married a couple of years back?”
“Nah, that’s the oldest, Carl. Over there with the wife and teeny tiny baby. As far as I know, Vince is unattached. I can’t believe you haven’t met him before now.”
I gave a rueful laugh. “I did, actually. Remember Liam and Ava’s house-warming party a couple of years ago? I had a brief but hostile conversation with one of Ava’s brothers, and if Vince is the pastry chef, he’s the one. He was kind of rude.”
“Vince is the type who doesn’t pull any punches. He says what’s on his mind, no matter what, so I can see him being a little prickly if you two got off on the wrong foot back then. But he’s usually a pretty decent guy.” Giff wiggled his eyebrows at me. “Are you thinking he’s the horse you’re about to get back on?”
“What?” I tore my gaze away from Vincent and Liam. “What horse?”
“Jeff and I were saying it’s time for you to get back in the saddle after Cam moved west. Now seems as good a time as any to do that.”
“Do you really think it’s a good idea to saddle up Ava’s brother and take him for a ride?” I nibbled the side of my lip. “Don’t you think she might . . . object?”
“Nah.” Giff shook his head. “Ava’s the least judgmental person I know. Plus, there’s that whole deal where her best friend was Liam’s girlfriend before she had him, you know. So she’s not the kind to throw stones.”
“Still—” I was about to say something, to share yet another reason why I might not want to tangle with Vincent DiMartino, when suddenly Giff gripped my arm.
“Look at that. He’s heading this way!” His whisper was excited. “Oh, my God, Jeff, the look on his face tells me it’s time to exit, stage left.” Giff kissed my cheek. “I have things to do and people to chat up. You have a good time with that one, sweetie pie, and then fill me in on all the details tomorrow. I’ll call you. Later in the day.”
“Giff.” I half-laughed as the two men moved away from me, but when I felt a large, strong hand on my back, between my shoulder blades, all humor died.
With a deep breath, I turned to face Vincent DiMartino.
“Well, if it isn’t the last single DiMartino.”
I closed my eyes as an all-too-familiar voice reached my ears at the same time that a hand circled my bicep. I didn’t need to look down to know that the nails on that hand would be long and plastic, thanks to that fake stuff some women use, and painted a vivid color of some sort.
“Hey, Donna.” Succumbing to the inevitable, I pivoted a little so that I was facing the woman, using the opportunity to break free of her grasp at the same time. “I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.”
“Well, of course. I mean, my mother is best friends with yours, and I . . .” Her voice trailed off a little. “I, uh, like Ava.”
I wanted to roll my eyes, but I knew that arguing with what she’d just said would be pointless. “Okay. Well, I should probably see if anyone needs my help.”
Before I could take a step away, Donna had grabbed my arm again. I looked down and congratulated myself on being right: the nails were bright red. Blood red, even.
“Vince, don’t you think we should stop dancing around this thing between us? I mean, what better time than your sister’s engagement party for us to finally give into what we both want?” Her voice was nasally, making my teeth clench as the sound grated against my ears.
“Donna, I’m sorry, but I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” I tapped the empty wine glass she was holding. “How many of these have you had?”
Her brown eyes flared wide. “Only three, not that it’s any of your business! God, Vince, you used to be fun.”
When was that? I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to prolong this conversation. “Nice seeing you, Donna. Enjoy the party.”
“Vince, you know Antonia wanted us to be together.” Donna was pulling out the big guns now, and I halted, simple annoyance morphing into anger.
Donna Varonelli was usually nothing more than a whining mosquito, the kind of niggling irritant that might make me slap at it half-heartedly—figuratively speaking—while I was busy doing something else. But I hated when she used her friendship with my dead sister to try to win my attention.
“Are you that desperate?” I wheeled around, shaking off her fingers yet again and leaning over her. “Are you that pathetic, Donna, that you’re going to try to guilt me into paying attention to you by telling me some half-truth about Antonia?”
She flushed, and her lips pressed together while her eyes darted to the floor. “I’m not pathetic. I’m just tired of you ignoring me, when you know that us being a couple makes perfect sense.”
“Maybe it does in your world, but not in mine. First of all, I’m not looking to be part of a couple. I’m not Carl, who’s been with the same woman since I hit puberty, and I’m not Ava, who’s ready to settle down. I don’t have time for one woman in my life. I like how everything works now. And even if I was ready to choose just one chick, you can be sure it wouldn’t be you.” I knew, even as the words tumbled out of my mouth, that I was being harsh, but I’d long ago realized that sometimes, harsh was the only thing that got through to some people. “Of course, if all you want is a pity fuck, I might be able to make that work. Some time. When I’m not doing anything else.”
Her arm whipped out as she tried to slap me, but I caught it in time, my fingers tight around her wrist. “Don’t, Donna. Just . . . don’t. Let’s be adults now and walk away before you make a scene and interrupt my sister’s engagement party. Because if you did that, I’d have to say something to my ma and yours, and that would be ugly.”
“You son of a bitch.” She bit out the words. “You asshole.”
“Yeah, well, I never claimed to be anything different.” I let go of her arm and stepped back. “See you around, Donna. Oh, and you might want to slow down on that wine.”
She said something in response, but I ignored her, purposefully walking across the room to where Liam, my sister’s fiancé, stood with Jesse, who was married to Ava’s friend, Julia. As I approached, Jesse moved away to slide an arm around his wife’s shoulders and join her conversation with another group.
“Vince. Having a good time?” Liam extended his hand to me, and I shook it, nodding. I had to admit, I’d been wrong about Liam Bailey when we’d first met. Back then, all I knew was that this dude had been dating Ava’s roommate and best friend for the better part of a year. It had seemed a little strange that now he was with my sister. Plus, he clearly wasn’t like the rest of us, my family and all the people I’d grown up knowing. He was a rich boy, the son of a politician, which I’d figured made him soft.
But over the months and then the years, I’d seen time and again proof of how much he loved Ava and how well he took care of my baby sister. It also turned out that Liam was a regular guy who never hesitated to hang with my brother, my dad and me. He got his hands dirty when we did yard work at my parents’ house, he threw back beers with us, and he watched games on TV. And if he wasn’t quite as loud as the rest of us were, well . . . he wasn’t Italian. He couldn’t help that.
We stood together in companionable silence for a few minutes. I’d been so busy making sure the pastries that I’d provided for the party had been plated that I hadn’t gotten a chance to even snag a beer yet. I was just thinking about remedying that situation when a flash of red caught my eye.
My first impression of the chick standing across the room with Liam’s friends Giff and Jeff was bright. Her dress was the kind of red that did something to a man, the kind that made someone like me want to follow her around and pant like a dog.
And then I got a load of her legs. Damn. They went on forever, ending in a pair of high heels that I could almost feel pressed into my back. I let my eyes wander upward, sweeping over her ass, where the dress clu
ng tantalizingly to her curves. But it was when I reached her tits that my mouth went dry.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Her rack was the stuff of wet dreams. The top of her dress dipped low enough so that I could see cleavage, and when she leaned forward to speak to Jeff, the slight jiggle told me that those luscious breasts weren’t being helped by any padding or bra. Those babies were all natural and unfettered. All her.
And I wanted them. I wanted to mold my hands around them and lift them up until I could press my lips into the generous mounds.
“Hey, do you know who that is with your friends over there?” I gestured with my head in the direction of the babe.
Liam glanced over. “Amanda? Yeah, I know her. We all went to school together, Giff and Amanda and me.”
“Huh.” I rubbed my jaw. “So, what’s her situation?”
“Her situation?” Liam frowned. “What do you mean? Like I said, we went to school together. She’s a friend of mine. Her mother is on the governor’s staff, so we were thrown together at political stuff pretty much all our lives.”
“Does she live around here?” As I watched, she stood closer to Giff, gazing up at him. I wasn’t worried about that; I knew that Jeff was Gifford’s boyfriend, and so he wouldn’t be interested in Amanda. But watching them sparked another question in my mind. “And you never, uh . . .” I pointed to her and back to Liam.
My soon-to-be brother-in-law scowled at me. “No, Vincent. Not that it’s any of your . . . well, okay, yeah, I’m marrying your sister, so I guess it is your business. But no. Just friends. And she lives in the city. She’s in law school.”
A little thread of disappointment tightened around me. “Law school. No shit.” Women in law school were not my type, not at all. Although I didn’t like Donna, the truth was that my no-strings hook-ups were more likely to be chicks like her: hard-working women with jobs that would probably be considered blue-collar; most of them had finished high school, but seldom more than that. I’d banged a couple of girls who were going to our local community college, but even then, they weren’t exactly the ambitious types.