Cut & Blow: Book 1

by Giannoccaro, Ashleigh

  I speak loudly so everyone can hear me, even Alistair in the front. “You can all stop judging me. I see the way you are looking at me. This place is wall to wall mirrors. You can’t hide your faces. Yes, I’m married. No, it’s not to Trent.”

  When I say his name I feel my throat close and threaten to choke me.

  Swallowing my pain, I carry on. “He had to go back home to his family.” My lie tastes bitter in my mouth. “Rainieri is my husband. So instead of whispering about it, you now know. If you want to say something, come say it to me.”

  “So you are the elusive Amelia that wasn’t seen again after her wedding day. Otherwise presumed dead,” Romi says to me.

  He’s way too knowledgeable on this, and I just glare at him.

  “Wait … your name isn’t Ailee?” Chelsey says, mortified. “Where is my BFF and what have you done with her? I feel like I don’t even know you!”

  I can’t do this. I can’t hide any longer.

  “I am Amelia. I married Rain when I was fifteen, in an arranged marriage that our fathers set up. I’m not dead. He left me to do my own thing, because I was a child. He let me live my life. But, things have changed, and I’ve chosen to honor the marriage.”

  Another lie. I had no choice.

  “Yes, my husband is a member of the Calligaris family, but his business is not up for discussion.” I look at Romi specifically. “Ever.” Scanning the room, and all the wide eyes looking at me, I say, “Are we done? The dirty looks and whispering can stop now?”

  “Wow, that’s a lot,” Star says, her southern drawl making it sound somehow even worse than it is.

  Bursting into tears I turn and run out the back, shaking with the craving for a smoke. The physical reaction to admitting that all out loud overwhelms me.

  As I light a smoke, pacing up and down in the car park, Romi comes out the back door. I can see him walking over to me, pulling a cig out of his crumpled box.

  He holds it out for me to light. “Star is taking your next client. It’s Olivia, she said it was fine.” He puts a hand on my shoulder and speaks softly, “You almost had us all fooled. We thought you were so normal and put together. I feel better knowing you’re just as fucked up as the rest of us here.” His smile is warm. “When I saw him yesterday and you said husband, I knew it had to be you. You don’t look like you did as a kid.”

  “How would you know?”

  “My father worked with his father, before he passed away.” Romi looks more Italian now somehow. “Like you, I chose not to go into the family business. Being a hairstylist doesn’t really fit their image, it’s frowned upon, especially for a man.”

  He’s right, my family didn’t exactly celebrate my career choice.

  “Yeah, girls aren’t even really allowed to do this, so I can understand that.” I let out a small laugh. “So you understand, you get it then, what’s happening? I didn’t exactly have many choices that don’t end with me being dead. My time was up and Trent just made it go faster.”

  Exhaling a ring of smoke, he answers, “I do. So, umm, Trent? He’s not home in Atlanta, is he?”

  I start crying again just hearing his name, and the ache in my chest becomes unbearable. “No, he’s fish food, or pig food, or whatever they do these days.” I look him in the eye. My sadness is lessened with the knowing that he understands. “He did it in front of me, yesterday.”

  Romi embraces me in a friendly hug, while I sob and let it sink in at last. He’s gone – forever.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers, shushing me, trying to take away some of the immense pain that’s ripping me apart.

  “No, it’s not. But thank you.” I sniff and wipe my eyes. “I don’t know how to explain it to Chelsey. She’s going to think that my life is a bad soap opera, or that I’m a liar and none of this is real.”

  He chuckles at my dramatics. “Well it sort of is, and you are … were.”

  “I want to hate him so badly, but it’s not there. I don’t feel it. Last night I got drunk and …”

  “Oh God. I know how that sentence ends. Please spare me the details.” He playfully covers his ears.

  “I should regret it. I want to feel dirty and ashamed. I want to be angry that he took advantage … he didn’t. I don’t feel any of that. It was good, it felt right, and now I feel so wrong.” I swallow my guilt. “Like I was home.”

  “Ailee, he’s your husband. It is right. It is home. Doll, you need to stop looking for reasons to hate and find ones to make this work, so that you’re not a miserable prisoner in your own life, forever. So if it feels good, let it.” He pauses to light another smoke. “You don’t want to end up like Gina.”

  God, he’s right I know he is, and she is a bitter old bitch.

  “I feel like a traitor for liking him.” I sigh. “Like there should be some obligatory amount of time for me to hate him before I give him a chance. But, I just don’t. I’m afraid, and all I want is for him to hold me and tell me this will be alright.”

  “Ailee, no one here knows him. No one expects you to hate him. You can do what you want, anything that feels right for you.”

  “I know, Romi. This all just imploded. Everything changed in one weekend and I’m confused.”

  Pulling me under his arm we start walking back inside. “Go with your gut. Don’t think too hard about it.”

  Who is this guy?

  “When did you become ‘Ask Andy’? All full of advice? Thanks, Romi.” I flick my cigarette butt into the open dumpster.

  “I’m pretty deep, these good looks are deceiving.”

  I shake my head at his inflated ego and we go back to work.

  I think this all might be okay – just maybe.

  Twenty-Four

  Lowlight

  RAINIERI

  When I get home from work I know she’s already here, because Albert sent me a message when he left the house.

  When I walk inside the lights are on. There is soft music playing through the sound system and I can smell dinner from the entrance. Hanging my jacket on the coat hook I toe off my shoes; I’m exhausted. The weekend and the last two days have taken it out of me.

  Who knew that having a wife would be so tiring. No wonder married people are so miserable all the time. My body aches and my mind is ready for a good night’s sleep.

  The kitchen counter is set for two, with a bottle of sparkling water and a glass at one setting, and a glass of red wine at the other. There are white dinner plates and my best cutlery laid out perfectly, and the oven light is on.

  Amelia comes into the room from the pantry, carrying the salt and pepper cellars. Her face lights up with a smile when she sees me standing here admiring her effort.

  I know she didn’t cook the food. Albert is terrible at keeping secrets, and he’s a worse liar, but I appreciate that she made any effort at all. And the smile on her face means even more than a meal ever could.

  “Hi,” she says sheepishly.

  Her cheeks flush pink. She puts the two glass condiments down on the table between the plates.

  “Hi, how was your day?” I ask, approaching cautiously, gauging the reaction to me getting into her personal space.

  “It was okay, better than yesterday.”

  Well that’s at least an improvement, but rules out drunken Amelia tonight – and I won’t lie that I’m disappointed. Last night was good, it felt right, and I only hope that she’s not regretting it, that she won’t now pull away from me.

  “How was your day? You look tired,” she says.

  “I am tired. It’s been a heavy few days.”

  She nods and steps closer to me. The dim lighting in the kitchen is almost romantic in the way it lights her features.

  I reach to move her hair out of her face. She doesn’t flinch or pull away. She looks at me and the anger is gone from her eyes.

  The pain is still there, but the burning rage is missing. It’s been replaced with a look I don’t know. Something softer.

  I close the spa
ce between us and stand in front of her. Looking down into her brown eyes I wonder why I let her go, why I waited so long to bring her home.

  “I’m sorry.” This time she apologizes to me. “I bought dinner, I can’t cook. And I was just too tired to even try tonight.”

  “That’s alright. Come, let’s eat.”

  She goes to get the food and I take a seat and pour our drinks.

  We don’t talk much over dinner. I think the last few days have snowballed on us both and we are coming to a crashing low.

  Amelia puts her knife and fork together neatly when she is done, and waits for me to finish my food.

  “I spoke to my work friends today. I told them about us,” she says while clearing the plates and putting them in the dishwasher. “One of them actually gets it. His father worked with your family. He knew who you were when you came in yesterday.”

  I know who she’s talking about. I recognized Romi the minute I saw him too, which made me wonder how none of them knew anything before now.

  But, when I look at her, and how much she has changed, she’s nothing like the scared little girl from the church that day. She has changed almost everything about herself; her name, her hair, she lost weight and changed the way she dressed.

  She shed the skin of this lifestyle and put on a bright, shiny new coat, to match the life she wanted. I was raised my whole life to know what my future would be. I never challenged it, or tried to alter it in any way. Yet, she was raised the same way and fought it kicking and screaming all the way.

  I wonder if she was just naive, or if she really believed we can just walk away from our inheritance. She was the princess of a powerful family and I was the prince of another – this was always how it was going to be. I knew it.

  “I recognized him too,” I say, watching her pile the plates into the sink. I want to clean them and put them in the dishwasher, the mess will drive me crazy if I don’t. “Let me help you.” I step beside her and start to rinse the plates.

  “You are a neat freak, aren’t you?” she says with a little smile. “That’s why you would clean up when you broke into my house. Untidiness bothers you.”

  “I like things a certain way. Uncluttered and tidy.” I may as well be honest, because if I’m not we will end up fighting over her mess at some point.

  Amelia packs the dishwasher while I rinse each item, like she just knows it’s what I need.

  “Go shower, I’m going to watch TV for a while,” she says, turning the machine on.

  It’s strange having her here, without him. Just her … and me.

  I don’t know how to share my space, or be surrounded by people. I am a quiet person. It’s one of the many reasons that my father is concerned about my ability to run things. He says I am too reserved and I don’t engage enough. I prefer to speak with actions rather than words. I always have.

  Instead of leaving the room and going to shower, I reach out and pull her closer. The desire to touch her, and smell the floral scent I know will be there when I smell her hair, is overwhelming.

  Without resisting me she allows me to just hold her, to feel her against me and breathe her in. After a few moments her small arms wrap around me. I can’t explain how it feels to have her hold onto me, to want to be near me.

  “Tell me everything will be okay, Rainieri.” Her hold tightens a little. “I’m afraid.”

  “It’s going to be okay, Ailee. You don’t need to be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t expect anything from you. We can do this however you want.” I need to surrender some of the control, that I hate losing, to her – so that she can get past her fear.

  “I never wanted this. Any of it. I knew when I was ten that I didn’t want any part of my family’s business, when I accidentally saw what they do behind closed doors. Rain, I don’t want to be a part of any of that, please.” Still embracing me, she opens up just a little. “Don’t make me give up who I am, and I will try to love who you are.”

  I want to take all the pain in her voice away, I want to make that promise, but I’m not sure that I can. She is still so young, too young to fully grasp the hold our families have on our lives, but I will do my best to protect her from it.

  “You don’t have to give up anything, Ailee.” I choose to use her adopted name again.

  I hold her face in the palms of my hands so she can see that I mean what I am saying; her arms are still looped around my waist. “I’m not going to make you do anything. For now we can both just try, we put on our bravest faces for our families, make it look good, and here at home we can just be us. I already love you, and I know that I don’t deserve that from you. I never did, so you don’t need to try and love me back. You are allowed to hate me, and be angry at me all you want. This was always wrong, right from the start, and I tried to do right by you. Maybe I just did it wrong.”

  She tries to smile, but I know she’s still hurting over Trent, over everything.

  I kiss her forehead. “I’m going to go shower.”

  She lets go of me and steps out of my way.

  I feel her eyes on me as I leave her there.

  * * *

  Instead of getting straight into the shower, I call Gina. I know what I have to do. My father was right, I need to show her that I meant what I said tonight.

  “I’m coming to see you tonight,” I say, without waiting for her to greet me after the fifth ring of her phone.

  “Why?” She sounds confused.

  “Business. I’ll see you in an hour and a half.”

  The hacking cough sounds revolting as she chokes into the phone. “Fine, Rain. This is a bit ridiculous though, can’t it wait ’til morning?”

  “No.” I hang up and get showered, and dressed to leave again.

  Amelia is sitting in front of the television with wet cheeks, and a pile of tissues beside her on the arm of the sofa. Her eyes are red and puffy, and she looks confused when I appear fully dressed in the doorway.

  “I have to go back out, I have some business to attend to tonight. I will be back later. Is that okay?” It’s odd asking, or telling someone what I’m doing. “I mean, will you be okay? I can call Albert to come stay here until I get back.”

  She shakes her head at that idea.

  “No, it’s fine. Could I call Chelsey to come over? I could use a friend tonight.”

  I don’t understand friends, but if that’s what she needs then I’m okay with it. “Sure. Let Albert go fetch her for you.”

  “Thank you, Rain.” She smiles at me. “Do I want to know what sort of business you need to do at night? Should I be worried? Wait up?”

  She’s joking, but I know that the questions come from a serious place. “It’s personal business, Ailee, and you have nothing to worry about. And waiting up is entirely up to you. I don’t know how long I will be.” Or how stubborn Gina will be.

  “Okay, Rain, I’ll see you later.”

  She tucks her legs beneath her, shifting on the seat and getting comfortable. Now I don’t want to leave her.

  * * *

  Gina looks ragged and irritated when she opens her front door, like I have woken her from the dead when it’s not even nine o’clock.

  “Come in, boy. Goddamit you had better have a good reason for this shit.” She pulls the door wide open and I am assaulted with the smell of her old lady perfume and stale smoke.

  “I have a proposal for you, Gina. Can we talk somewhere?” I ask, when I see a balding man with a beer gut, in his boxers, on her sofa.

  “Let’s go in the kitchen. He’s half deaf anyway so you don’t need to worry about him.”

  The man doesn’t even look away from the TV for a second to see who is here; he’s lost in the world on the screen.

  I follow her to the dated kitchen and sit at the wooden table that reminds me of the one in my Nonna’s kitchen.

  “Start talking, Rain.”

  “I want to buy the salon from you.”

  She bursts out laughing and doesn’t stop until she has
tears rolling down her cheeks. Her wrinkled face screws up she finds my statement so amusing.

  “You have lost your mind, boy.” She tries to stop laughing at me. But, I don’t find it funny at all, and I’m pretty sure my expression tells her exactly that. “Oh, you are serious.” She swallows her laughter now and looks a little afraid. “Rain, it’s not for sale. It’s all I have. I need it to make a living.”

  She’s not going to be easy to convince.

  “Gina, I will pay you a lot of money for it. Ten times what it’s worth. Or, I will take it from you and leave you with fucking nothing. Just because I am younger than you, from the next generation, does not mean that you can disrespect or ignore me. I want the fucking salon for Ailee, and you are going to give me what I want.”

  I catch sight of her hands trembling a little, before she can put them under the table to hide them from me.

  “Rainieri, your father told me when Celso died that as long as I did what we always did, I could keep the salon.” She says it like it means something.

  “My father is no longer in charge of that particular area of the business, Gina. I am. And, he knows I’m here and what I am doing. In fact this was his idea. I am only here to see if we are going to do this the easy way, or the way where you end up destitute or dead?”

  Shaking her head she looks down at the tabletop, defeated. I knew I would win, I always do.

  “Fine Rainieri, buy the salon. But, it won’t make her love you. I know, because the salon was a peace offering to me from my husband when he knew that he was in too deep to save himself. Grand gestures mean nothing, Rain. Nothing.”

  She’s a bitter, jaded old lady, who lost everything in this life because of the choices her husband made. I want to make sure Amelia never ends up like her. Ever.

  “Pleasure doing business with you, Gina.” I stand up and hold out a hand for her to shake. She gives it a weak little squeeze, but doesn’t get up. “My lawyer will come by tomorrow for you to sign the paperwork.”

  “Goodnight Rain.”