Lucia in Love

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Lucia in Love Page 7

by Heather Graham


  They both stopped talking and stared at Lucia when she walked in and sat down across from Dina, picking up the drink she had left behind. She smiled at the two of them and sipped her drink.

  “Lucia!” Dina said.

  “What?”

  “You look great. Doesn’t she, Ryan?”

  Lucia suddenly felt very ashamed of herself. Dina was always generous; and always played an honest game.

  “Thanks, Dina,” she said softly.

  Ryan hadn’t answered. He was staring at her, and she suddenly remembered the last time she had worn this dress. It had been the night before she had run away from him.

  She swallowed the remainder of her drink and leaped to her feet. “Aren’t we late? Shouldn’t we be over at Frank’s and Ellen’s by now?”

  Dina glanced at her watch. “Yes, I guess we should go. We were just waiting for you.”

  “That was nice,” Lucia murmured. Ryan was still staring at her. “Well, let’s go, okay?”

  Ryan rose and helped Dina to her feet, and she slipped her arm through his. Lucia hurried out the door ahead of them.

  It wasn’t far to the other apartment, and Leon opened the door, ushering them in with a cheerful grin. “Just us middle-aged guys here. No parents, no children. How about that?”

  “I’m all for it,” Sophie said. “Dina, are you making piña coladas? I was waiting for you.”

  Lucia found a seat beside Joe, who grinned at her. Theresa took care of Ryan, bringing him a beer. There were crackers and cheese, and dips and chips, and the big glass window was open, letting in the sea breeze and revealing the crimson streaks on the horizon.

  Lucia tried to ignore Ryan. He was sitting between Theresa and Sophie, who had him cornered, and were telling him family stories. Lucia was listening to Leon and Joe and Bill, as Joe told Bill about the little golf clubs Patience had once bought for Frank, and how Frank had opened a huge gash in Joe’s head with one.

  “On purpose?”

  “Heck, no. Frank was five and I was three. But boy, did Patience feel bad.”

  “Patience,” Ryan said thoughtfully, and Lucia looked over at him. He was watching them, smiling wryly. “That’s not an Italian name, is it?”

  Joe grinned. “Nope. Gramps was in love with Massachusetts. He liked the stories about the Mayflower and the pilgrims and all. That’s why he had Faith, Hope and Charity—and Patience.” Joe affectionately tweaked Lucia’s cheek. “Then our parents chose whatever names they wanted.”

  “Piña coladas, the Dina Donatello special,” Dina announced, coming in from the kitchen. She stopped in front of Lucia first. “Take one.”

  Lucia hesitated. She was already feeling the effects of the first.

  “Lucia, hurry up, before I drop them!”

  She took a drink, then realized that Joe was staring at her strangely. She stared back, but he only smiled. Meanwhile, Dina was over by Ryan, laughing about something.

  She sipped her drink. She needed it.

  In another few minutes they moved next door for dinner.

  Faith, Hope and Charity were beaming, and Lucia thought that, even for her aunts, they had outdone themselves. The sisters had spent the day with Charity’s pasta machine, so the cappelletti and ravioli were fresh. Faith had made her special eggplant and meatballs, Charity had done sausage and peppers, and there was even a big bowl of “robbies,” or ribbinis, an Italian vegetable similar to mustard greens. They were Joe’s favorite, so he immediately made a fuss over them, and all the sisters were happy.

  The scene was mass confusion; there were just too many people in the small apartment and spilling out onto the balcony. Lucia wound up on a lounge chair with Theresa; Ryan was right across from them. The baby was crawling across the floor, and it seemed that children were everywhere. Lucia dared to glance at Ryan, wondering what he was thinking of the family, of all this domesticity. Then she wondered just how much she really knew about him.

  Dina came by and perched on the edge of his chair, whispering to him, and he laughed easily. The blonde last night; Dina today. She knew enough about him, Lucia decided firmly. But it still hurt. It hurt so badly that she swallowed down several big gulps of her drink, enjoying the nice soft blur of emotion it brought her. It was one thing to know that he wasn’t good for her. It was another to try to fall out of love with him.

  “More meatballs?” Aunt Faith said.

  “No, thanks,” Frank called back.

  “Oh, dear. Were they all right?”

  Frank stood up and hugged her. “They were delicious, Aunt Faith. Really delicious.”

  “Then have another. There are plenty left.”

  “Ma!” Joe piped up, laughing. “We can’t win, you know. We can’t possibly win. If there are any meatballs left, that means that we didn’t like them. If we eat them all, you worry that you didn’t make enough.”

  “They were delicious, Mrs. Donatello. Really delicious,” Ryan told her, smiling. “The best I’ve ever had.”

  Five minutes later, whether he wanted it or not, Ryan was sitting there with another plate of meatballs. Dina had gone for more drinks, and Theresa had left to fix a plate for Tracy.

  Except for the others chatting in the background, Ryan and Lucia were alone. She thought about rising, about finding something to do. But the two piña coladas had made her lethargic, and she didn’t seem to have the strength.

  Ryan looked at his plate, then happened to meet Lucia’s eyes when he looked up. He grinned sheepishly. “What do I do now?”

  “Eat your meatballs,” she told him gravely.

  “Have one?”

  She shrugged. She probably should help rescue him. “All right. One. You’ll have to pawn the others off elsewhere.”

  “What a terrible thing to say about your aunt’s meatballs.”

  “I love my aunt’s meatballs. I just know enough to keep my mouth shut when I’ve already eaten my fill.”

  “Come here.”

  He’d skewered a meatball, cut it in half and lifted the fork. He intended to put it into her mouth. She wasn’t sure why it seemed like such an intimate gesture—any one of her cousins might have done the same. But this was… different.

  Still, to her own surprise, she obeyed him. She moved forward and took the morsel from his fork; his eyes were on her mouth all the while. She felt a flash of heat and she quickly withdrew, telling herself that it was impossible to make something erotic out of a meatball.

  But it wasn’t impossible at all. Ryan had done it.

  “How’s it going?” Dina was back. She sat on the edge of Ryan’s chair again. “Need some help with those things?” She picked up the fork and finished off one of the meatballs. “Hey, Joe, come take one of these things for Ryan. If everybody eats at least half a meatball, we can take care of them all. Ryan will be saved, and Mom will be happy.”

  Joe, Leon and Frank each took a meatball, and Ryan was indeed rescued. Dina was laughing again, and leaning close to Ryan. Lucia felt as if she were choking. There had to be something she could do. She had to escape.

  “Leon?” she asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “Let’s go do dishes.”

  “I’ve got a better idea. Let’s head for a nightclub.”

  “A nightclub?”

  “Someplace with a good band and dancing.”

  “Help me do some of the dishes first. Then I’m with you.”

  “Deal. Although they always rewash dishes when I do them, you know.”

  Lucia laughed. “You can dry.” She hopped up with Leon, feeling as if Ryan’s eyes were following her. She felt the heat of his gaze all the way down the length of her spine.

  But when she reached the kitchen she turned around and saw that he wasn’t watching her at all. He was leaning close to Dina, and he was laughing again.

  In the end, neither she nor Leon had to wash or dry. For one thing, the condominiums all came with dishwashers. For another, Aunt Faith shooed them away. “Go on, now. You young folks go on out
and have a good time.”

  “I’d have a better time if you’d let me do something first,” Lucia insisted.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Aunt Faith said firmly. “Now go on.”

  “Only if we get to take you all out later, in return,” Lucia insisted.

  “Fine. That will be very sweet. Now go.”

  Frank and Ellen caught up with them before they reached the elevator. “Where are you off to?” Ellen demanded.

  Leon named the nightclub in one of the big hotels on the beach. Frank said to hold the elevator, then ran back to invite Theresa and Bill to come along.

  Lucia felt a little warning prickle of unease, but she shook it off. Ryan wouldn’t appear. And if he did, he would have Dina on his arm. One woman per night, she thought wryly, should be enough for him.

  Her fears were silly, she assured herself. Ryan and Dina weren’t coming with them, and Bill and Theresa would most probably be coming later. She could—and would!—go out and gave a good time!

  The nightclub was packed. The band played top-forty music and golden oldies, along with an occasional big-band number for the older members of their audience. It was a cute place, decorated like a mariner’s shanty with pieces of boats and figureheads and ship’s wheels hung on the knotty-pine walls. The rear was all glass windows, revealing the balcony and the steps that led down to the beach.

  They found a table inside and ordered their drinks; then Leon pulled Lucia onto the dance floor. “Don’t look now,” he said. “Don’t look now, but…”

  The hairs at her nape began to rise. Had Ryan followed them? Or worse! It could be Gino Lopez, stalking one of them.

  “What!” she nearly shrieked.

  “There is the most gorgeous blonde I have ever seen in my entire life just over there. And she’s with girls. I mean, she doesn’t seem to be on a date. Let’s dance that way.”

  “A blonde?”

  “Yeah, a blonde.”

  “Leon, I could throw you off the balcony. You scared me to death.”

  “How?”

  “Never mind. And what is this male obsession with blondes? What’s the matter with dark hair?”

  “Nothing.” He kissed her forehead. “Yours is just gorgeous. It’s just that you’re my cousin, and she isn’t. Come on, would you, dance this way?”

  Lucia obligingly danced toward the table with the beautiful blonde. When they reached the edge of the floor, they stopped dancing. Leon managed to swirl her into a chair right next to his target. He smiled at the blonde, who cast an uneasy gaze Lucia’s way. “Talk to them!” Leon whispered to her. “Tell her in some subtle way that you’re my cousin.”

  Lucia smiled sweetly. “He’s my cousin!” she called over the music.

  “Not like that!” Leon protested. “I said subtle.”

  Lucia grinned, then asked the blonde if she was on vacation and if she was having a good time. The other woman’s name turned out to be Lucy, and she seemed very sweet. She also seemed to like the way Leon looked. Lucia was glad, since she thought Leon was pretty special.

  “He’s really your cousin?” Lucy asked her.

  “Really. We’re here for a family reunion. I have cousins everywhere, I think.” She smiled and excused herself. Leon, in seventh heaven, slid into a chair at the table with Lucy and her two friends.

  Lucia went back to her own table. Frank and Ellen were on the dance floor, while Bill and Theresa had yet to arrive.

  The drinks had come while she was dancing with Leon. She idly played with her straw, then took a sip. The drink was strong, but not as strong, Lucia realized, as those Dina had made. She would have to quit after this one. She wasn’t driving, but the world was beginning to look a little too fuzzy anyway.

  “Hi.”

  She started. A strange man was standing over the table, smiling at her.

  “My name is Michael Greene. I’m a friend of Lucy’s, and I understand that the gentleman over there is not your date, but your cousin. Would you consider a dance?”

  It was a come-on, but she was in a nightclub, and people did come to such places to dance. And Michael Greene seemed to be okay. He was tall and thin and had nice amber eyes, and he was attractively dressed in a casual tan jacket and dark trousers. She didn’t really want to dance, though. “No, thanks,” she said, smiling.

  “Just one dance?”

  “No, I don’t think—”

  Just then she saw that Theresa and Bill had made it at last. They were weaving their way through the crowd—and they were not alone. Dina and Ryan had come with them.

  Dina immediately dragged Ryan out to the floor. It was a slow dance, and Lucia saw that her cousin was crushed to Ryan’s chest.

  Lucia made a sudden decision. “I’d love to dance.” She gave Michael Greene a dazzling smile. He responded with pleasure, sweeping her into his arms and onto the floor.

  Lucia had no idea what Michael Greene said to her after that, but it didn’t matter. She laughed and stared up at him with starry eyes, moving her fingers idly over his shoulders as she fluidly followed his lead. He danced well, and she knew they made a good couple. If anyone was looking, that was.

  Jealousy. It was going to get her into a lot of trouble.

  The band played on, the tempo changing. Lucia still wasn’t terribly sure what Michael Greene was talking about, but she kept nodding and smiling and laughing away. She was breathless, and the music was loud, and the lights were spinning all around her.

  “Want to take a break?” He spoke loudly enough that his words managed to penetrate her brain.

  “What?” she yelled back.

  “Take a break! It’s hot in here. Want to take a walk out on the balcony?”

  She looked around. She didn’t see Dina or Ryan, or even Bill and Theresa or Frank and Ellen. She suddenly felt tired, and it was very hot.

  “Fine, that would be nice.”

  Michael Greene led her through the crowd, and a wave of cool air hit them as soon as he opened the door. Lucia stepped out to the deck and walked over to the rail. The moon was up. It was high and almost full, really beautiful. It was a great night for lovers. If only she could be with the man she loved.

  “Nice night,” Michael said. “There’s a little bit of beach left. Let’s walk.”

  He set his hand casually on her shoulder and guided her toward the stairs. “See, just a strip. Sometimes the tide is so high that the beach disappears completely.”

  “Does it?”

  They walked down to the sand. The night was dark once they were away from the bright lights of the club. Lucia walked for a while, enjoying the air, hearing the soothing rhythm of the surf. If they kept walking, they would eventually reach the condos.

  Lucia realized that her shoes were filling with sand, so she paused to take them off. “I’m not sure this is such a great idea.” She laughed, wiggling her toes to get rid of the sand that had sifted through her stockings.

  “Take your stockings off.”

  There was something about his tone that she didn’t like. She looked up at him. “I’m all right.”

  “Let’s go. You know, you have a fabulous smile.” He was holding her elbow, and for a thin man, he had a good, strong grasp. He spoke quietly, but she liked his tone even less.

  “Let’s go back,” she said flatly.

  But he didn’t intend to go back. He swung her around to face him, staring down at her.

  “You have the nicest, sexiest smile and the nicest eyes. I could read things in those eyes, in the way you were looking at me, the way you flirted and laughed. I kept asking you if you were ready, and you just kept nodding.”

  “What?” She felt ill. Her knees were trembling, and she was desperate to remember anything he might have said, anything at all.

  “I asked you if you were in the mood. And you flashed that smile at me, and I felt ready, too, really ready. Don’t play hard to get now. It’s too late, gorgeous. You asked for it. You asked for it pretty and sweet.”

  “
What?”

  The strangled word had barely left her lips before his mouth descended hard on hers. He wrenched her against him, then placed his free hand flat on her breast.

  Gasping and struggling with rage, Lucia tried to free herself, but he was very strong, and she couldn’t get away. She managed to dislodge his hand, but he only set it on her thigh, lifting the hem of her dress.

  She pulled her lips free at last. “Stop it!”

  “Sure, sweetheart.” He laughed and picked her up, and in a moment he was falling on top of her in the sand. For the first time she realized that Michael Greene had been drinking heavily, and that she just might be in real trouble.

  “Listen, you overgrown delinquent, you stop it this instant!” His hands were all over her, and she couldn’t move because of his weight. He kept smiling, but it was an alcohol-induced smile, Lucia realized. “Stop it!” she shouted again.

  “Hold still now, honey, and keep that sparkle in your eyes for me, huh? It will be worth your while,” he said as he began to unbutton his shirt.

  “No!”

  She gritted her teeth, ready for battle, but there was no one to fight. A hand had landed on Michael Greene’s shoulder, and suddenly he was gone; then she saw him land on the sand about ten feet away.

  Lucia straightened her skirt and scrambled away.

  Ryan was there, just a foot in front of her, staring with distaste from her to Michael Greene.

  “Hey!” Michael Greene protested. “This is my date. You go back and get your own.”

  “She isn’t your date. And she said no.”

  “She meant yes.”

  Ryan walked over and stared down at Michael where he lay in the sand. “Listen, I sympathize.”

  “You what?” Lucia flared.

  He ignored her and kept talking to Michael. “From the way she was looking at you in there, you had every reason to think what you did, but I did very distinctly hear her say, ‘no,’ and it sounded plenty clear to me.”

  “So who are you, her brother?” Michael demanded belligerently.

  Ryan smiled coldly. “A friend of the family. Lucia, get up.”

  “Ryan, don’t you—”

 

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