“Ordinarily, I'm not a fan of covering your face, but I'm making an acceptation tonight. It's far too tender to apply much makeup, so I will straighten your hair, then part it so most of it covers your eye.”
“Let's not forget the bandage. Everyone will comment on it, won’t they?”
“Not when I've finished with you. No one will know it's there.”
Of course, I trust her talent, but with a bruise the size of a small country, I find it difficult to believe Alice can cover it completely.
After sitting in the same position for over an hour, my entire body aches. As I stand to stretch my limbs. They tingling as the blood flows to my fingers and toes. The moment I approach Alice's mirror to behold my appearance, I gasp.
“Alice, you're an artist,” I say, twisting my head to examine my face.
With my hair parted on the left, drawing across my brow, she's concealed the bruise, revealing only the smallest part around my eye. She used glittering purple eyeshadow for a smoky appearance to my left eye, creating the illusion she's applied the same makeup to my right. I twirl round to greet her and envelope her in my arms.
“Thank you,” I tell her.
As we approach Club Stang, I observe the glimmering decorations that bring festivity to the streets. Having never enjoyed Christmas myself, I've never taken the time to admire their beauty. However, this year, I allow myself the Christmas spirit to surround me.
“Does Angelo have any decorations in his club?” Alice asks, drawing my attention from the window.
“No. He said when people are drunk, they pull everything down, so he doesn't see the point in wasting all that time and effort,” I tell her.
“We should get a little tree.”
I can’t hide the emerging grin. “It's been so long since I've had a Christmas tree in my home.”
She mirrors my excitement. “Oh, I know. First thing tomorrow morning, we're getting a tree and some decorations.”
“Here we are, ladies,” announces the taxi driver.
Are we here already?
I glance out the window towards the club before I believe him.
The hummingbird flutters around her cage, while trepidation soaks into my skin. Tonight, Alice plans on drinking. All her inhibitions will melt away, leaving me to watch her interactions with Angelo. And how am I supposed to react around Angelo?
In the four months I've known him, we've become close (too close in some circumstances), yet I'm accustomed to being open with him. Now, I'm expected to act like there’s nothing between us. Especially after what happened only a couple of days ago, I don’t know if I have the energy for this.
Alice pays the driver and pulls me out the taxi. With heavy, reluctant feet, I stumble across the pavement towards the club doors. If it wasn't for Alice's tight grip on my wrist, I would remain on the curb. The moment her hand reaches the silver, cylindrical handles, my body quivers.
“What's wrong?” she asks with a voice saturated with concern, twisting her body to face me.
Did she feel the quiver in my wrist or notice my reluctance to move?
I tuck my hair behind my ear as I lower my head, allowing the rest of my hair to hang around my face to conceal my shame.
“It's the bruise, isn't it?”
I gaze at her through my lashes. No, but I'll work with that if it keeps her in the dark.
Her hand falls from the handle to draw me into her embrace. “Eva, I promise, no one will notice it. Don't you realize how beautiful you are?”
I wrap my arms around her.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“You know, I'll be quite jealous of you tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because Angelo won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.” She giggles, escalating my fear.
A nervous giggle emerges from my lips. As she retracts from me, she gathers one of my hands.
“Come on,” she says, twisting her body back towards the door. “We can't keep him waiting.”
With half an hour before the club officially opens, this allows us free time with Angelo. Or rather, thirty minutes of agonizing torture for me to endure.
The moment we cross the threshold, we find him at his usual table, conversing with Mario. Only a sliver of relief cuts through the exhausting apprehension. When it all becomes too much, I can focus my attention on Mario. I’ve become fond of him in the few times we've met.
Ordinarily, I take a few moments to greet other members of the Stang family, but with Alice's impatience to reach Angelo, I'm forced to abandon my rituals and hurry over to his table.
The two men cease their conversation and acknowledge our presence. Angelo's eyebrows raise briefly as his gaze traverses between Alice and I. “Wow,” he remarks.
Mario bumps his friend's arm and comments something in Italian, then looks at us. “You two look stunning,” he says.
As heat rises to stain my cheeks, I lower my face.
“Thank you,” Alice says.
There's no need to glance her way, I know she's wearing a glowing smile. Unlike myself, she welcomes compliments and gets highly offended when she receives none.
Angelo rises from his seat and stands before me with only an inch of air between us. My eyes flutter to greet him, to discover the mischievous grin has materialized. I shuffle my feet back, leaving a respectable amount of room between us. As he turns to face Alice, he opens his arms to embrace her.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he says.
“Hey, handsome.”
I avert my eyes as the stone materializes in the pit of my stomach.
“Hey, angel,” his voice whispers, alerting me to his presence.
My gaze travels the length of his body to discover he has closed the gap between us, yet his hands remain hidden in his pockets.
“Can I get a hug?” he asks.
A slight curve rests on my lips as I allow him to envelope me in his arms, though I can't thwart the desire to nuzzle the collar of his jacket or slide my eyes closed as I inhale his fragrance. His warmth devours me, and I wish I could stay within his embrace all night. But at least I’m not the only one who can’t help myself. He can't seem to hinder his desire to bury his face in my hair either.
“How are you feeling?” he whispers.
“I'm doing better,” I tell him. “How about you?”
“Can't complain. I'm happy you're here tonight,” he says.
The smile on my lips widens as I nestle in closer to him, absorbing his body heat.
“Did you notice we're matching again?” he whispers.
My eyes slide open as I lean away from him and look at his tie.
I giggle. “I thought you were going to warn me which color tie you planned on wearing?” I tease.
My eyes flutter up to greet him to discover the glimmer in his eyes.
“Maybe I like matching with you,” he chuckles.
For a moment, we remain locked within one another's gaze.
“Hey, Eva. Can I get one of those?” Mario asks, breaking the enchanted spell between Angelo and me.
I turn to find him waiting patiently beside Alice.
Once Angelo liberates me, Mario envelopes me, resting his lips on my cheek, causing a hot blush to rise.
“How are you?” he asks.
As I gaze into his warm chocolate eyes, I discover the love they emit. Not the kind I find dwelling within Angelo's, but a sincere love for a friend, causing my heart to swell.
“I'm doing well,” I tell him.
“That's great. Hey, Angelo told me what happened. If John ever contacts you, let me know, okay?”
I chew on my lip and nod.
He releases me and invites me to sit beside him. Alice and Angelo have already snuggled up beside one another, with Angelo's arm draped around her shoulders, conversing quietly.
While the air depletes from the room, nausea penetrates my stomach.
“Actually, I should put my jacket away first,” I say.
Since Alice had already removed her tren
ch coat and laid it on the back of the sofa, I gather it and scuttle away before Mario can comment.
Tears obscure my vision. I lower my head to disguise them. I hadn't noticed Frankie standing in the dark corridor until I run straight into him.
“Oh, gosh. I'm so sorry,” I splutter.
“No worries. What's the big rush?” he asks.
My gaze travels the length of his attire: black dress trousers with a black shirt until I reach his piercing ocean-blue eyes.
One side of his mouth curves as he looks at me, full of sympathy. With a tender hand, he brushes my hair from my face to reveal the bruise. He tries to hide the disgust in his face, but his features betray him.
“Men like him don't deserve to live if they're capable of doing this to a woman.” He lowers his hand, allowing my hair to fall back into position, concealing the bruise once more.
“Are you coming to sit with us?” I ask.
“Nah. I have paperwork waiting for me. I promised Ange a night off in exchange for a week off to spend with the family.”
“Need a hand?”
He narrows his eyes. “What's wrong?”
I avert my gaze. “Nothing’s wrong.”
The warmth of his hand on my shoulder draws my attention back to him. “Then why the sudden need to stay away from Angelo?”
I open my mouth to respond but close it again. I watch my hands comfort one another.
Frankie slips his hand from my shoulder and glides it down the length of my arm before hiding his hand in his trouser pocket. “Want to talk about it?” he asks.
My eyes flutter up to greet him. “It's not Angelo, exactly.”
I glance over my shoulder towards the table to discover the three of them engaged in joyful banter. As I turn back towards Frankie, I lower my head to allow my hair to fall, concealing my face.
“Have you ever been in love with someone you can't have?” I look at him through my lashes.
He caresses his chin with his fingertips. “Yeah, once. A long time ago.”
“How did you deal with it?”
A smile emerges, accentuating his scar. “I met Kathy.”
A slight giggle escapes my lips as I raise my hands to cover my face before brushing my hair from it. “So that's it? I have to meet someone else?”
“Depends on your attraction.”
I furrow my brow. “But he's dating someone and I'm not the type to break up a relationship.”
Once again, he caresses his chin with his fingertips. “Are we talking about the same guy?”
A wide smile dances across my lips as I giggle, causing him to laugh.
“Are you going to be okay, kid?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Frankie.”
“Well, I was heading to the bar for a drink, and you were…”
I look at Alice's jacket draped over my arm. “I’m dropping this off in my locker.”
He reaches out his hand to cup my chin. “If it really gets too much for you, come to the office.”
My eyes flutter up to greet him. “Thank you.”
By nine o'clock, I'm relieved it’s my turn to sing. I’ve endured enough of Alice and Angelo's flamboyant affections for one another. Though neither of them engaged in a kiss, Angelo kept his arm securely around Alice, while she would caress his chest with each giggle.
Mario remained relaxed with his arm along the back of the sofa, closing the gap between us as he engaged in joyful banter with the other two.
As the hour drew on, I found hiding my emotions behind my mask exhausting and often contemplated excusing myself from the group to hide in the office with Frankie. However, my sudden leave of absence would only raise unanswerable questions, forcing me to remain seated and suffer in silence.
Though I detest the taste of alcohol, the urge to reach out and gather Alice's cosmopolitan or Mario's glass of whiskey became almost unbearable. Maybe if I consumed enough alcohol, I would become numb and no longer care to witness my best friend in the arms of the man I love or even the moment they kiss.
I barely touched my Coke. The moment the glass reached our table, I gathered it to take a sip, only to find the taste nauseating and left it on the table.
The moment Mario rises from the sofa, I make my escape, not once looking back at Angelo, something I ordinarily would do. I set my sights on my goal and weave my way through the sea of patrons towards the stage stairs, only to discover I lack the ambition to sing. I have to beg my heavy feet to cooperate with me, to climb the stairs and amble over to the microphone. Even as the crowd screams my name, I remain melancholic.
Though I wish they wouldn't, my eyes gravitate to Angelo's table. Mario now occupies my vacant seat beside Alice. As I scrutinize the three, I wonder if they’d notice if I slipped away into the office after my performance and hide there until the end of the night.
The room erupts in applause and cheers when I’m finished, yet I feel I scammed them with my substandard performance. The sorrow I incarcerated behind my mask leaked as I watched Alice’s inhibitions melt away with every guzzle of her drink. The amorous gazes she shared with Angelo caused the heavy stone in my stomach to expand and the tear in my chest to rip further. The agonizing pain became unbearable. I stared straight ahead, into the abyss, but it was too late. The image had imprinted in my mind, forever tarnishing all memories of Angelo.
The moment I exit the stage, I find Alice waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, wearing an exuberant smile, obliterating my plan to hide in the office.
“You were great!” she cheers.
My expression remains morose. I have no energy left to hide it. “Thanks,” I mumble.
The smile fades and she expresses a look of concern. “What's wrong?”
I lower my head as I reach the final step. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t contain the sorrow and anguish of her lies or my indiscretions with Angelo anymore. The time has come to reveal the truth. To come clean to one another. “I saw you with him,” I tell her.
“Saw me with who?”
I look her right in the eyes. “Your boyfriend.”
All the color drains from her face and she lowers her own head as her fingers twist around each other. “What are you talking about?” She giggles nervously.
I snap my head up. “Come on, Alice, I saw you at the movies with him. Why keep it a secret? So what if he's in the mafia?”
She lowers her head, allowing her hair to cascade down and conceal her face.
A volcano of fury erupts, erasing all my sorrow. “You're such a hypocrite! You made me promise not to get involved with Angelo just to get involved with him yourself. When did it begin anyway?”
She raises her head and peers through the slit of her parted hair. “Eva, this isn't the time to talk about this.”
“It never is. If you had your way, you'd keep me in the dark forever!” I spit.
She stretches out her hands to gather mine, though I slap them away, finding her touch burns my skin.
I honestly don’t know if we can come back from this. I don’t feel like I can trust her anymore.
“Just leave me alone, Alice. Go. Be with your boyfriend!” I snap.
I push past her and fall onto the sofa beside Mario.
“Mind if I have a sip?” I ask Mario, gesturing towards his glass.
He wears a bewildered look. “Yeah, sure.”
I gather the tumbler filled with amber liquid and take a large gulp, causing me to gag. I return the tumbler to the table and gather my now warm Coke, and drink the entire contents of the glass to extinguish the burning in my throat.
“Everything okay?” Mario asks.
I slump back against the sofa. “Yeah, I'm fine,” I mumble as the scowl emerges on my face the moment Alice returns.
She ignores me, but grabs Angelo’s hand and tugs him from the sofa.
“Come dance with me,” she orders.
I refuse to acknowledge either of them, no longer caring what they do in front of me. I focus my furious glare on my empty gl
ass.
I feel Mario’s arm slide along my back to rest on my shoulder before he closes the gap between us. “What's wrong, Eva?”
The moment I look into his warm, chocolate eyes, the fury dissipates, though I find no words to explain my sudden anger. I lower my head as shame saturates my body.
His fingertips draw the hair from my face before he guides me to rest my head against his chest. The warmth that radiates from him warms my skin and my eyes slide closed. As I inhale his scent, I discover it’s like Angelo's, though it doesn't have the same effects.
“I'm annoyed with people,” I mutter.
“Does that include me?” he asks.
“No, you're the exception to the rule.”
He chuckles. “Are Alice and Angelo on that list?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“A little bit. Want to tell me what’s going on?”
I chew on my lip. “Not really.”
“Mind if I ask you something personal?”
“Sure.”
“Are you in love with Angelo?”
As my eyes widen, my bottom lip quivers.
I bury my face into his chest and groan. “Is it that obvious?”
He chuckles and combs his fingers through my hair, leaving warm tingles in their path.
I lean away from him to gaze into his warm eyes. A flurry of butterflies flutter through my body, though I can't explain why. I scrutinize his slender face. His strong jawline curves around to his square chin, his full lips appear succulent, full of passion, waiting to be kissed. Even the distinct bump on his nose adds beauty to his face.
Anyone would feel lucky to date Mario. Would I?
Yet as I stare into his eyes, I find no desires for him, despite the love and warmth that emanates from them.
“It doesn’t matter how I feel about him,” I finally say.
“Why?” he prods.
“I’d like to give up on men for a while, since the last one.”
“Yeah, I heard about him. Has he contacted you?”
My lips part, ready to say no, but my words lodge in my throat and I seal my mouth once more.
He leans closer, allowing his lips to caress my ear. “You know, I can help you out. I have connections.”
Twisted City: (Twisted City Book 1) Page 28