by K. Ryan
"No," I answer for both of us. "We're good."
Brennan huffs out a laugh next to me. Enzo turns to us, his arms spread out wide as if to say, Look at all my shit, and his mouth spread apart in a wide, triumphant grin.
"Angelo is fighting tomorrow night at our VIP lounge downtown," Enzo's arms fall to his sides as he speaks, but that glint is still there in his eyes. "I know your father took you off the roster this weekend after your little incident with the mayor last week, so I'm assuming you're free?"
I bristle just at the mention of what happened, but brush it off just as quickly. The last thing I want to do right now is give the Gianotti brothers any ammunition. Since I won't be getting back in the ring for at least another week—thanks to dear old dad putting his foot down—maybe watching a fight is as good as I'm going to get for awhile.
"Sure, he's free," Brennan answers for me and nudges me with his elbow as he leans in to whisper, "Bring your Tinder bang as your date."
Knee-jerk reaction would have me taking a swing at my brother, so it's a good thing I've got a handle on my shit outside the ring. There are so many things wrong with what he just said I can't even get them all straight and the common denominator starts with an R.
"Nope," I shake my head furiously. "Not gonna happen."
Rae getting anywhere near a fight sponsored by the Gianottis? Over my dead body.
The longer this plays out, the more dangerous it's going to get. We're all better off if this just stays as uncomplicated as possible, which is easier said than done. But because the thought of Rae getting too close, of one of them recognizing her and putting two and two together...my fists clench into tight balls at my sides.
"Well," Enzo shrugs. "All you have to do is give our bouncer at the door your name and you'll be able to get front and center, if you want. That way you'll be able to see what you'll be up against. Maybe that will help sway your decision."
"Yeah," I rock back on my heels in thought as I eye him carefully. "Maybe."
"YOU TWO HAVE to be the stupidest sons of bitches I've ever met in my life!" my dad roars and he smacks his fist against the table in his office just to make his point even clearer.
As if we didn't already know.
"What in God's name made you think that was a good idea?" he pushes on, red in the face, eyes practically bulging out of his head.
I can't remember the last time I saw him this wound-up and I guess, if I was in his shoes, I'd probably feel the same way. But then again, he's also lied to me and to my brothers for pretty much our entire lives, so I'm willing to give myself a free pass on this one.
"Would you calm down for a second, Pop?" Brennan holds his hands out in front of him like he might to a rabid dog.
"Calm down? You want me to calm down? You two just took a meeting with gangsters. How in the hell do you expect me to calm down?"
Brennan just shrugs. "It's not like we agreed to anything. It was just a meeting to see what they wanted. We don't have to do anything."
My dad's eyes dart between both us before finally settling on me. "This is a dangerous game you're playing here. You should never take anything they say at face value."
"I'm just taking my time is all," now it's my turn to hold my hands up in the air. "It's just—"
"Don't," he jabs a finger in my face. "Don't you dare tell me this is about money. Your mother and I raised you better than that."
"It's not about money, Pop," I murmur.
"Then what is it about?"
I can't tell him that. At least not without betraying Rae's trust and to an extent, Sean's too. They deserve better than me blurting it all out to my dad just because I'm trying to keep myself out of trouble like I'm still in high school.
"You know, I expected better from you two. You've always been smarter than this and I know you're both adults, but I don't understand why you're choosing now to suddenly decide nothing I say matters."
I study him carefully, from his defensive, hunched-over stance by his desk, the lines around his eyes, the bags underneath them, and the way his hands shake a little into fists above the desk. I've idolized this man my entire life—wanted to be him, wanted to make him proud, wanted him to see me make something of myself. Now, I look at him and I don't know what I see. Don't know how I'm supposed to see him. He's broken, but then again, I am too. I just never knew it until a few weeks ago.
"At some point," I tell him quietly. "You gotta let us make some of the calls. I wanted to see where this might go, I took Brennan with me, and we're standing in front of you now. That's all you need to know."
He nods tightly, almost as if he can hear my thoughts, almost as if he knows what I know and maybe he does. Either way, the issue is dropped for the time being because he slaps a newspaper down on the desk and points down to a headline that reads, New Shopping Center Planned For Southie.
"Maybe you're right," he allows and gestures to the newspaper again. "I think we've got some bigger issues to deal with right now."
Brennan snatches up the paper and I skim the contents from over his shoulder. When your reality becomes stranger than fiction, everything is relative. Namely, the fact that a businessman named William Rossi is spearheading the plans to turn a residential area into a shopping mall because the mayor just signed off on rezoning that part of Southie to raise taxes. If the article is right, it's only a matter of time before the people living in that area have to move elsewhere so William Rossi can swoop in and buy up his prime real estate. The very same William Rossi whose Cadillac has been sitting outside each of the meetings we'd tailed Moretti to. Coincidence? Definitely not. Especially not after the night I had.
"What the hell?" Brennan mutters under his breath. "This is bullshit. How the hell does this keep happening?"
"Because we don't have anyone in City Hall putting our neighborhood first," my dad shakes his head.
"This isn't happening," Brennan shoves the paper back onto the desk like the very sight of it disgusts him. "This can't happen."
"It won't," my dad nods. "We'll figure something out. We always do."
I may not take much stock in anything he has to say anymore but he's right about that. I'll figure this out. One way or another, it all circles back to the mayor. I just need a little more time and a little more information. Like Sean said, maybe I just have to follow the money, wherever that leads.
Until then, I have to play the game and wait.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Rae
I tug at the skirt of my dress a little, willing the smooth fabric to stay in place, but the emerald satin just won't cooperate. Sort of like my hair, which has a mind of its own tonight and refuses to lay flat like it's supposed to. Instead, it curls around my shoulders and my chin like a fuzzball of ginger fluff.
Like all best laid plans, this just isn't working out for me. Every single one of these things I've been to in the past as always gone like this: music, fake conversations, fake laughter, eating food portioned so tiny you can barely taste it, more music, more fake conversations, and finally, commencing in an endorsement already bought and paid for by the mayor.
How long we need to actually stay here still remains to be seen. The niceties have already come and gone: Oh, Raena, that color looks lovely on you. How are you adjusting to being back home? Are you planning on attending your father's voter appreciation event next month? Oh, so you're still working at your sister's store? Are you not looking for another job?
That always lasts for about the first ten minutes or so. After a while, people tend to forget you exist if you just blend into the background like a good wallflower.
My eyes scan the crowd and it doesn't take me long to find him. The mayor, dressed to the nines in a crisply tailored Armani suit and his dark hair slicked back, is in his element. This is what he thrives on the most—all the attention. Everyone here just for him. I think if he could live in these events, if he could throw one of these stupid fundraisers every single day, he wouldn't hesitate. Lord knows he has the money to do it.
It's equally fitting that Bennett and I are on one end of the room while my sister and her parents hold down the fort on the other. We're a family divided, but the only one who seems to know or even really care is me. My thoughts drift back to Thursday night, where I'd tried and failed to identify anyone who looked even a little familiar. The only face, other than Jack's, that really stuck out to me was my brother's.
I'd watched Brennan from across the club, despite the blinding, flashing lights, and I couldn't help but feel jealous. Jack got to know him, talk to him, see him...all I got was a few stolen glimpses from over Bennett's shoulder. What would it be like to see him? For him to know me? Would he feel the way Sean did? Or would he still only see me as the stupid, reckless girl who'd falsely sent his younger brother to prison?
I glance over at Bennett, who's too engrossed in texting to really notice much else, and sigh. Maybe 10 more minutes, 20 tops, and we'll be able to sneak out of here with little to no fanfare. It would be nice if—
The next song starts playing over the surround sound and I nearly choke on my laughter.
"You're just too good to be true/Can't take my eyes off of you..."
By the time the song reaches it's crescendo, doo-wops and all, with Frankie Valli professing how much he loves his baby, my shoulders are shaking with laughter so hard I can't stop it.
Bennett nudges me in the side, but I still can't stop. The list of reasons why I shouldn't be thinking about him right now are just piling up: 1) He's a distraction when I should be concentrating on looking for an opening to get out of here 2) He went to a fight last night sponsored by the Gianottis and only mentioned it after he left 3) I've already spent the entire night glancing at my phone, waiting stupidly for any sign of contact...
"Rae," he stage-whispers, his face filling with disbelief. "What is the malfunction?"
Taking a tiny sip from my champagne glass doesn't help either. The laughter just won't cease. It certainly doesn't help when the next song starts with that smooth, blue-eyed singer crooning, "Fly me to the moon/Let me play among the stars..."
"Rae," Bennett whispers again, a little more exasperated this time, "Zip it."
Finally, I just can't take it anymore and despite the fact that Bennett's hovering over my shoulder, I slide my phone out of my clutch to send a quick text in spite of everything.
You'll never guess what song is playing right now.
Jack's reply comes swiftly and that's mostly in part because he's currently sitting in Bennett's Prius, albeit parked a safe distance away, with nothing better to do: What's that?
Sinatra.
Not even two seconds later, he texts back: Shocking. They played the Four Seasons yet?
Yep, I reply with a sly smile.
I don't get a chance to see what he replies because Bennett snatches my phone right out of my hand. As he scrolls through the brief text exchange, his eyebrows inch higher and higher up into his hairline. When he hands back my phone, he doesn't say anything, but his expression already says it all.
"How much longer do you think we should stay?"
That's my lame attempt at deflecting whatever it is he might say instead and Bennett's dark eyes study me carefully for a few beats before they narrow ever so slightly.
"I don't know..." he starts slowly, but trails off when his phone buzzes in his back pocket. Seriously, he doesn't have a leg to stand on about texting during this thing, but then again, neither do I.
"You've gotta be kidding," he mutters under his breath and shakes his head.
"What?"
He doesn't respond, choosing instead to fire off a frenzy of text messages. Each new text earns another curse under his breath and finally, I manage to get his attention long enough to tear his eyes away from his screen.
"Benn? What's wrong?"
He closes his eyes for just a moment and when they open again, they flash with a scarily intense mixture of frustration and disbelief.
"It's Aiden," he whispers in my ear. "I don't know what's going on, but all of a sudden, it's like he suddenly decided to switch teams...or at the very least, straddle the laps of both."
"What?" I frown and glance around us just to make sure he isn't drawing any unnecessary attention our way. Unfortunately, I catch the mayor's eyes and immediately look away.
Bennett shakes his head again and stares at his phone. "I just don't understand. Why did he even start this with me if he wasn't sure? I'm not gonna be someone's guinea pig. I'm just not."
"Benn..." I don't know what else to tell him. All I know is that I feel like we're being watched now and Bennett is very close to making a scene. A big, fat, attention-getting scene.
"I mean," he shoves his phone in the back pocket of his suit pants as he speaks, his voice shaky and rough, and he pushes his free hand through his hair. "I should've known this was gonna happen, right? It was too good to be true. I should've known."
My sympathies are with him. They really are. But right now we have a much larger issue to deal with because my best friend is currently pacing in a roomful of people with both hands in his hair, muttering obscenities to himself, and looking for the nearest window to jump out of.
"Benn," I start as calmly as I can and put a hand on his arm to get him to stop moving. It doesn't work. "Just hold on until you can actually talk to him, okay? Everything gets lost in translation with texts anyway and you won't know for sure until you talk to him."
"Oh right," he put his hands on his hips defiantly and then promptly waves a pointed finger at my clutch, where my phone is safely tucked away. "Like you're any better with your...your...whatever the hell it is you're doing with him."
"I'm not doing anything. And neither are you. At least not until we get out of here."
That doesn't really help either because he just goes right back to pacing and trying to tear his hair out. My hands immediately leap up to his in a futile effort at prying his hands away from his beautiful hair, but he just shrugs me off.
"Wow," I try instead. "You must be really far gone if you don't even care about your hair right now."
"My hair is the least of my worries, Raena. The very least," he bites out. Then the pacing resumes and his hands tear right through his hair again. "I just...I'm an idiot, right? That's what happened here. I got my hopes up. Put all my eggs in one basket. Put the cart before the horse...oh great. Just great."
"What?" I frown.
Bennett just points to something over my shoulder and I wince when my eyes follow the gesture. Yeah. Just great. My sister is slinking right toward us in all her mayor's daughter glory. I'm pretty sure her ivory off-the-shoulder dress cost more than my car—definitely not off the rack, that's for sure. Not to mention everything else about her tonight is in prime attention-seeking mode from her sleek, shiny dark hair all the way to the red polish on her toes. I guess it just runs in the family.
I suck in a deep breath at that last thought. That's not fair to lump her in with the rest of them. She's still my sister, even if I hate her father. Even if she still doesn't know.
"Rae," she whispers harshly and then looks over her shoulder. Sure enough, the mayor is observing this exchange like a hawk. "What's going on? Why is Benn freaking out?"
"Hello to you, Zero," Bennett snarls, baring his teeth and everything. God, he really is a drama queen.
Luckily for everyone involved, Lucy chooses to just ignore him and focuses on me instead. "Dad's pissed."
I huff out a laugh. "No shit. Let me guess, he sent you over here to tell us to keep it down."
Her pretty chocolate eyes darken and her eyebrows knit together. "Well...maybe."
I shake my head, but still manage to steel my gaze right on my sister. If my eyes find the mayor, all bets are off because I won't be able to keep the animosity from pouring out of me.
She looks over her shoulder again before asking, "What's wrong?"
"Oh. Just nothing," Bennett answers for me and his hands lift up to the ceiling as he speaks. "Nothing but my path
etically miserable life."
Lucy's lips part to reply, but he doesn't let her get that far.
"It looks like my boyfriend decided he no longer wants boyfriends. No...he's on the hunt for a girlfriend now, that two-faced, spineless, dickless son of a bitch!"
"Oh Jesus," Lucy mutters under her breath and her lips pull apart in a wince as her eyes dart around us.
Yeah. People are definitely staring now. And whispering.
"Um, Benn," I murmur gently as my hands find his shoulders. "Maybe bring it down a notch. Just until we leave and then you can rant and rave all you want. Trust me, I'll be right there with you."
"I think Dad wants you guys to go, like," she glances over her shoulder again, "ten minutes ago."
Why would he want us to stay? We're making a scene at his big fundraiser, like he needs the extra money anyway, and that just cannot be tolerated. Unacceptable. And of course he'd send my sister, the good one, the sweet one, to do his dirty work for him. At least I wear my role as family disappointment well. The fact that it still cuts me off at the knees, knowing what I know, knowing that he has no real hold over me anymore, I just...I just don't have time for that right now.
"Maybe we should leave," Bennett mutters. "I don't want to be around all these stupid people anyway. They all have their heads shoved so far up their asses they don't know which end is up."
When a nearby partygoer snapped his head in our direction at that last comment, Bennett just sneers, "Yeah. That's right. I was talking about you."
"Alright, Benn," my hands move up to his shoulders to turn him toward the exit. "Time to go."
On second thought, I swivel back around to Lucy just to make sure. "Hey, you're still opening the store tomorrow, right?"
Please, I plead silently to her, be responsible. Just this once.
"What?" she frowns, like she'd honestly forgotten she was on the schedule for tomorrow. Seeing as how I was the one who'd made the schedule, I suppose I can see how that might happen. "Oh right. Yeah. I'm opening."
"You sure?"