Anthony

by Sydney Landon

  “No, I’m up,” I answer wryly. Well, part of me was. Luckily, he takes that statement at face value. Jacey moves away from me and sits on the other side of the bed for a few moments. I flip on my lamp so she can see. Blackout curtains are a must with my hours, but Jacey’s probably a little disoriented. She gets to her feet and goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Thank God. “I’m glad you called,” I say truthfully. Even without the need for a rescue, I’d have felt the same. I’ve always had a close relationship with my father’s brother. He’s the exact opposite of my father in most every way other than looks. They weren’t twins, but there is an uncanny resemblance. Had my father still been alive, I have little doubt that would still be the case.

  “I’ve missed you, kid,” he teases as he always does. I might be a man of thirty-eight, but he continues to call me kid. And truthfully, I don’t mind. It’s always reminded me of something a normal father would do. My own called me either Tony or a shortened version of my full name, Ant. When he was pissed, it was little asshole or fucker. Not exactly a Norman Rockwell-type moment, but it was normal to me since it was all I ever knew.

  “Yeah, me too,” I agree without hesitation. It’s been at least a month since I’ve seen him, which is unusual. Normally, we see each other every other week.

  “I’m going to be in the area this afternoon. I wondered if you’d be interested in taking your old uncle to lunch?”

  Jacey wanders out of the bathroom and mumbles something about coffee before leaving the room. I hear my uncle ask if I’ve fallen asleep, and I shake off my Jacey-trance and answer his question. “Absolutely. The club’s closed tonight, so I’ve nowhere to be. Mind if I bring someone?”

  He’s quiet for a moment, and I can only imagine the look of surprise on his face. I’ve never brought a woman to meet him before.

  “I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

  Fuck, this is awkward. I feel like a teenager. “It’s, um, kind of a recent development. We’ve known each other for a while, though, so it’s not as if we just met. I mean, obviously, in that case, I wouldn’t be bringing her around to meet the family.” Shut the fuck up. You’re rambling. Yet I continue to drive the train straight off the cliff. “I’m not bringing her to meet you at all. It’s more of her being here, and you know, she needs to eat. Although, I do have plenty of food in the apartment, and there are restaurants nearby that deliver.” A movement in the doorway has me looking in that direction to see Jacey standing there with a bemused expression on her face. My uncle is laughing on the other end of the line. Yeah, I sounded just as bad as I thought. I drop my head forward, wishing everyone would just go the fuck away. “Where do you want to meet?”

  “How about Leo’s on Main?” The Italian restaurant is a favorite of ours, and we’ve been there many times. My finger is over the button to end the call when he adds, “Oh and, kid, bring your girl. I think I should meet her.” Fuck my life. Jade is still standing there when I toss my phone back on the nightstand. “Don’t even ask,” I grumble, sounding for the world like a sulky child.

  She holds her hands up in a sign of surrender. “I wasn’t going to. Something tells me I’d rather not know. Plus, there’s the fact that eavesdroppers never hear anything good about themselves.”

  I don’t comment on her observation. At this point, I’ll probably say something else insane, and I’d rather not. “I’d like for you to have lunch with my uncle and me. We’re going to Leo’s. You seemed to enjoy it at the last family dinner that Lee and Jade had there.”

  “I love it,” she agrees. Then adds, “But I should really think of going home. There’s no need for me to stay here, Tony.” She lowers her eyes and shuffles her feet. “I know we have this…er, thing we’re going to do, but that doesn’t mean we need to be joined at the hip. Although parts of us will have to connect at some point.” My lips twitch as she begins stuttering. Apparently, I’m not the only one talking out of their ass today. We seem to have that effect on each other. “You know. That came out wrong, like really wrong. I shouldn’t have put it that way. Even if it is kind of true.” She looks fucking adorable as she flails around, resembling a fish out of water. It’s a side of the normally polished and composed Jacey I haven’t seen before, and I like it. She is nothing like the Duchess right now. “God, why did I have to even mention that part? I might as well draw you a picture, right? I practically am with my words.”

  “It’s rather appalling.” I nod in agreement, then bite my tongue to keep from laughing. “Your whole dirty side is unexpected. I think you’d fit in well with some of the men who unload the liquor shipments.”

  She blinks rapidly as if struggling for a response. I wait with bated breath, hoping the awkward Jacey will come back out to play. But sadly, the Duchess makes the next appearance. I can almost see her straighten her crown and stiffen her shoulders. “As I was saying, I need to go home today. I have some work to do, and then I’d like to prepare for the week ahead. That’s what I generally do on Sunday, and I don’t like to deviate from my routine.”

  I take my time getting out of bed. I know without looking that she’s getting impatient at my lack of response. I’m tempted to make the bed, but figure that might be pushing my luck. Never turn your back for long on an angry woman. Especially not one who killed her father. Her eyes are narrowed in annoyance as I approach her. “Is there coffee left?”

  “Yes,” she snaps. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

  “I did. Now, why don’t you go ahead and get ready while I’m having my coffee? We’re meeting my uncle in a few hours.”

  She sounds panicked when she grabs my arm. “I can’t do that, Tony. Just drop me off on your way.” Her eyes are pleading as they meet mine. “It’s better this way. You won’t have to pretend I’m someone special to you.”

  The bottom drops out of my heart. It simply falls somewhere around my feet and shatters. So much pain. It’s there whether she knows it or not. This beautiful woman before me feels as if she’s not good enough to share a meal with the son and the brother of a fucking mafia king. A man who had more blood on his hands than she could possibly fathom. I’m certainly not an angel and have done necessary things that would cause her to see me in a very different light. For all her references to the mob and whatever fucking movies and television shows she’s watched, she really has no clue what it’s like to be a part of my world. To have grown up that way. I cross the room to her in a few long strides, still shaken by the naked emotion she’s showing. The Duchess is back when I reach her side, and for once, I’m grateful. If being someone else is what it takes to get her through the day, then I have no complaints. We all adopt certain protective shields to deal with the ugly side of life. Those who aren’t capable of what I think of as self-soothing will slowly lose their mind. How do I deal with this? I was prepared to pull her into my arms and offer comfort along with reassurances, but I’m not convinced that’s what she needs. My gut says to go the annoying guy route. Her eyes are flicking around the room as if waiting for my move. I smirk at her before saying, “Just wear those yoga pants of yours. I can’t imagine a man alive who wouldn’t find you special in those.”

  “Wh-what did you say?” she sputters as I move past her.

  “You heard me, Duchess,” I toss over my shoulder. “I’m going to take my coffee to the office for a bit. I need to check in with Nic. You can either use this time to do whatever it is you women do, or you can go the way you are. But make no mistake, you are going. Even if I have to carry you. Actually, I’d enjoy that.” I hear her say something that sounds like “asshole”, which makes me smile. I’ll hold off on congratulating myself for handling this one correctly until she’s seated at Leo’s. She’s a stubborn woman, and if she decides to be difficult, it will be an interesting few hours. Bring it on, Duchess. Bring it on.

  * * *

  JACEY

  “I still don’t understand what was wrong with my black suit. I wear it to the office, not to funeral
s as you so rudely suggested.” I smooth my hands down my jean-clad thighs, feeling underdressed to meet his uncle. When I walked out of the bedroom in my black suit, he took one look and shook his head. I tried to argue, but he was adamant that lunch was a casual meal and his uncle wasn’t a snooty person.

  “If you don’t want to be called Duchess, then you shouldn’t dress the part. In that outfit, you’re simply Jacey. Still wound a bit tightly, but so hot that I could give a fuck. Don’t get me wrong. You’re beautiful no matter what you wear, but you don’t need the armor with me, sweetheart.”

  How in the hell does he know? I attempt to look confused, but what I feel is closer to shock. No one has ever figured out what my clothing is all about. “I have no idea what you mean. I pick out the things that I like. I’m the president of a company, Tony, and it requires me to look the part.” Even I want to roll my eyes at the uppity tone of my voice.

  “You’re not going to work today. So why the need for the power suit? My uncle sells insurance, so it’s unlikely that he’ll be a future client.”

  Tony is far too insightful. Arguing with him is pointless because it’ll just make him think he’s right. He is. I decide a subject change is in order. “So, you and your uncle are close? Is he…in the family business?” Strange how these types of questions seem almost normal now.

  Tony chuckles, then shakes his head. “Hell, no. Never has been, and never will be. And yes, I think the world of him. I don’t see him nearly as much as I should, but I know he’s always there for me.”

  I turn in my seat, wanting to know more about Tony and the famous Moretti family. So much of what I do know is based on rumors. “How about your father…did he get along well with his brother? Are there any other siblings or just those two? Wait, you’re an only child, right? Does your uncle have children? A wife?”

  I smile sheepishly when Tony says, “Whoa, sweetheart. Let me answer those before you throw any more at me.” He tosses an amused smile my way when we stop at a traffic light. “You’re certainly a nosy little thing, aren’t you? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to get to know me better.”

  “You wish,” I say disdainfully. “It’s called idle chitchat, Moretti.”

  I swear he’s enjoying this far too much. “Oh of course, Duchess. I apologize for forgetting my manners. I’ll endeavor to answer your questions to the best of my abilities, Ms. Wrenn.” If he wasn’t driving, I’d throw something at him. But since he is, I’m forced to endure his sarcasm to appease my curiosity. “As for the relationship between my uncle and my father…it was mostly cordial but strained. My uncle didn’t approve of my father’s lifestyle, and he especially didn’t want me involved in it. But he was also a personal confidant to my father and probably knows more about Draco Moretti—the man—than anyone else, including me. They had no other siblings, but their father had eight—all boys, if you can believe it. So, there are plenty of Moretti relatives out there. I am indeed an only child to the best of my knowledge, and before you ask, I do not know who my mother was. Draco was never forthcoming with that information. He only said that she had no desire to be a mother and had asked to be left alone. It’s one of the few questions I asked him over the years that he adamantly refused to answer. And no, my uncle is not married, nor does he have children.”

  Tony slows the Range Rover, and I bite back a curse as I realized we’ve reached the restaurant. There’s so much more I want to know while he’s talking so freely, but it’s going to have to wait. Maybe his uncle will have some stories to tell. Isn’t that what families are for, to embarrass you? Or hurt you.

  Don’t. Not today. Push it away.

  I force a bright smile that probably doesn’t fool him for a moment. “Great, we’re here. I’m starving.” God, that sounded fake.

  When Tony pulls to the curb, a valet walks to his door and opens it. Tony hands over the keys and some money. He comes around to my side and takes my hand to help me onto the sidewalk. Whatever his faults, Draco certainly raised a gentleman. A few feet away, a man sitting on an iron bench gets to his feet, and I know immediately it’s Tony’s uncle. The resemblance is so strong that I’m momentarily taken aback. Somehow, I hadn’t expected them to look so similar. It’s almost like a glimpse at the future Tony. “Uncle Marcel,” Tony says enthusiastically. They embrace for a moment, and strangely enough, it’s one of the most touching things I’ve ever seen. The affection between them is so obvious, and neither shies away from showing it. Tony takes a step back and puts a hand on my waist to pull me forward. “Uncle Marcel, this is—”

  “A Wrenn,” Marcel whispers. He gawks at me in disbelief. “Your woman friend is a Wrenn? I…had no idea.” I fight the urge to hang my head in shame. I hate the ripple effect of my father’s legacy.

  Tony appears nonplussed as he stares at his uncle. “How do you know she’s a Wrenn?”

  This is beyond awkward. Of all the questions I asked Tony, why hadn’t the first been if his uncle knew what had happened that night. But right now, I’m also curious why he knows who I am. He could have easily seen me in the society pages of the paper, but I was a blonde then. Plus, I haven’t attended any high-profile events since my father’s death, so he should not have identified me so easily. I extend a hand to the still rattled man, saying uneasily, “I’m Jacey Wrenn. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Moretti.”

  For a split second, I wonder if he’ll return the greeting, but his manners kick in, and he clasps my hand between both of his own. I detect nothing but sincerity when he says, “It’s a pleasure, my dear. I apologize for that little bit of drama. It’s just that you look so much like your mother that it startled me.”

  I forget all about the fact that he’s still clutching my hand as I whisper, “You knew my mother?”

  I can literally see the walls going up around him. For some reason, he’s not happy he revealed that. He squeezes my hand once and then releases it. “Not really. But I met her a few times when she was…visiting Draco.” He darts a questioning look at Tony as if to ask if it’s okay to say what he has. Tony shrugs his shoulders indifferently, but I know he’s as curious as I am. It’s there in the slight tensing of his shoulders. “On one occasion, she was a blonde, and then a few months later, she was a brunette. Said she felt like being someone different for a while. My brother had complained because he preferred the lighter color.”

  I open my mouth to respond, but Tony clears his throat. “We should continue this inside. We’re going to be late for our reservation.”

  “Oh yes, absolutely,” Marcel agrees jovially. His odd behavior of a few moments ago seems to be over, and he appears completely relaxed. Why do my parents still control so much of how I’m identified? Will that noose ever loosen?

  I bite my tongue as we approach the hostess station. Jade told me on one of our previous visits that the woman standing there, Zola, is Leo’s daughter. And that she had the hots for Lee. So much so that Jade has feared a few times that she was in the kitchen spitting in her food. She’s not an attractive woman in any way. That nose…so big. “Mr. Moretti,” she beams when she spots Tony. “It’s great to see you again. I have your table all ready for you. One of your friends, Mr. Jacks, and his wife are here, so I seated you near them. I hope that’s acceptable.”

  No, not Jade. I don’t want to see them. Tony appears to pick up on the tension in my body because he raises a brow questioningly. I shake my head, telling him without words that it’s nothing although that’s not the way I feel. I see Jade a split second before she spots me. She’s sitting in a booth next to Lee, and he’s staring at her indulgently. He looks at her as if she’s his world. So happy.

  I’ll never have that.

  The pain hits me again. The searing knowledge that any chance I have for a normal life is gone and has been for a while. I gave up my dreams to save yours, Jade. I hate myself for the spurt of resentment and jealousy that always threatens to consume me when she’s near. She doesn’t know; it’s not her fault. Can’t blame
her. And I don’t. If given the choice of knowing now what would happen, I’d still take the same path.

  Promise me you’ll always protect your sister.

  And I had. To Jade, I’ve been the biggest monster in her world. She only managed a taste of our father’s other side once, and it scared the hell out of both of us. Even in the end when he gloated about our mother’s death, she didn’t fully realize what he was capable of. Only I knew—I’d lived it every day. I survived, but at what cost? Lee is getting to his feet now, having spotted our group. My sister’s gaze follows, and I see surprise and pleasure as her eyes meet mine. “Tony.” Lee gives the standard bro hug before turning to Tony’s uncle. “Marcel, I can’t believe it. Damn, you look so much like Draco.” Another hug is exchanged, and then he reaches me. I must give him credit; he’s one cool customer. He doesn’t appear to find it unusual that I’m here with Tony and Marcel. My relationship with my brother-in-law isn’t exactly warm and fuzzy. He is always courteous, but he blames me for putting Jade in danger that night. For basically abducting her and delivering her to our father. I did what I had to do. If I hadn’t, he would have sent one of his goons—alone. “Jacey,” he acknowledges me by a tilt of his head, then steps aside so Jade can get up.

  My sister doesn’t hesitate to walk right up to me and pull me into a hug. I return the embrace automatically but with much less gusto than her. I see by the slight narrowing of Lee’s eyes that he notices my lukewarm response to his wife, and he doesn’t like it. Another strike against me. “This looks promising,” she whispers before pulling back. I know Lee is watching, but I can’t pretend with her. We’re not confidants. We’ll never be best friends, which, if I’m honest, breaks my already fragile heart. But it’s her comment suggesting something is real between Tony and me that scrapes at the walls of the useless organ within my chest. No, sister. It doesn’t look promising. Tony will never look at me the way your husband looks at you.