Paige cut me off. “I’m just nervous. That’s all.”
“Nervous? But you know my family, Paige. They adore you. My dad thinks the sun rises and sets on both of you.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “I know, it’s just… It’s the whole Christmas thing.”
I hugged her a little tighter. “You don’t like Christmas?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I used to love it, but now I don’t know.”
Sophia let out an unmistakable angry sigh. “Have you guys been talking about this at all? I really think it’s time you just told him, Paige.”
Fear itched in my chest. A dozen possible bombs formed in my mind. “Tell me what?”
Paige’s jaw ticked. “It’s no big deal. I’ve just been feeling kind of nervous.”
“About this trip?”
“Yes, and about… other things.”
“For how long?”
She pushed back a lock of her long dark hair. “Um, a while.”
“Months,” Sophia said. “It’s been growing for months. She needs to go back to therapy, Angelo.”
Paige’s eyes flashed. “I can handle this!”
“Trust me. You can’t,” Sophia snapped, before crossing her arms. “I’m just trying to make sure you get help.”
Paige forced a smile. You could tell it was fake by the way the corners of her mouth trembled. “How about we add this to the list of things we talk about after the holidays?”
“That doesn’t really seem right,” I carefully told her. “Since you’re dealing with these feelings right now.”
“It’s fine. It comes and goes. It’ll be gone soon.”
The new information stung. “So just how long has this been going on for? And you never thought to tell me?”
Her eyes glistened. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
I sighed. “Oh, Paige. I want to worry about you. It’s my job.”
I want to do it for the rest of my life.
I thought about adding that last part, but the timing wasn’t right. Especially not with my girlfriend’s sister sitting just a few feet away. A line needed to be drawn somewhere.
I searched for a level way to finish the conversation. “Just promise me this talk isn’t over.”
She smiled slightly. “Deal.”
Sophia sat up straighter. “Hey, look! Is that Chicago over there?”
I turned around in my seat to get a better view out of the window. “Yep, that’s it.”
The pilot came on, announcing we were close to landing. The three of us buckled ourselves in. Sophia started drilling me on the best places to shop around the greater Chicago area while Paige fell silent. I held her hand, noting how light and cold it seemed.
Paige could try and brush her feelings off, but they were a bigger deal than she’d let on to. Looking back, it became clear there had been signs over the last few months. She started a lot easier than she used to, and she didn’t seem to want to go out as much as before.
Every once in a while, I asked her if she had any memories come back, but she always replied in the negative.
But maybe her warped emotional state was a reaction to a still repressed memory.
What could be worse than watching your parents be murdered?
I stifled a sigh.
Whatever was going on with Paige, whatever was causing her fear, I would figure it out.
I would fix everything.
Chapter Twenty - Paige
I twisted my bracelet around and around. Oak trees and houses, each one bigger than the last, passed by the car.
“How much longer?”
“Just a few minutes,” Angelo replied. “We’re almost there.”
He smiled at me reassuringly. I forced a smile back.
The scene in the jet had been a serious catastrophe. Okay, so I hadn’t told Angelo about the itching feeling constantly at the back of my neck. The one that told me danger was just around the corner, that there were foes and terror to be found everywhere. I hadn’t told him about the nightmares, terrible dreams where I came home from work to find both him and Sophia shot dead.
The worst thing about feeling anxious is that it’s hard to tell whether the things causing your feelings are inside of you or outside of you.
An example?
You know you’re afraid to get on the interstate because you might get in a car accident and die. But you don’t know if you’re feeling this way because the interstate is legitimately a dangerous place to be or if you’re just projecting your constant fear onto whatever circumstance is right in front of you.
Fear warps reality. It makes you question everything.
Like Christmas.
Yep, it can even make you dread what’s, for most people, the most joyful time of the year.
Unless that dread is attached to fear of something totally legit. Something you can’t remember.
What if Christmas brought up an awful memory for me? What if I couldn’t handle being around Angelo’s family because it reminded me too much of the one I lost?
My ears buzzed. I stuttered something unintelligible, realized I’d skipped a breath.
Hands shaking a bit, they dove into my purse for my inhaler. Angelo and Sophia’s eyes rested on me, pressing against my skin, questioning why I was close to an asthma attack, but I ignored them.
Taking a hit, I looked out the window. The suburbs of Chicago were just as snow-less as New York. The decorative reindeer and blow up snowmen in front yards looked like they were sitting in the middle of a Halloween scene.
“Here it is,” Angelo announced.
The driver turned the car left and stopped at the gate. A female voice came on the intercom to ask who it was.
Angelo leaned forward from his seat to shout at the device. “It’s me, Mariel!”
The woman made something close to a squeal. The gate opened and the driver took the car through.
“The housekeeper,” Angelo explained to me and Sophia. “She’s been with us since I was little.”
“Ah.”
There were a lot of things different about Angelo’s world. Sometimes I could forget he was from a rich Mafia family, but then he said something vague about ‘over sea assets’ or mentioned his family’s full time housekeeper (for just one of their homes, at that) and I remembered just where he was from.
“Wow,” Sophia breathed.
The car slowed slightly as the driveway took us up a slight incline then in a circle and around a water fountain.
The house… Well, mansion, actually, in front of us stood monolithic against the sky, giving the Salvatore home in Atlantic Beach a real run for its money. Around the tall, brown shuttered windows, its walls boasted a light cream color. With its brown roof and wrought iron banisters at the balconies it mimicked many of the houses I saw on my trip to Italy. There was even a front patio with a surrounding wall extending out from the house.
The car stopped at the walkway to the front door. We piled out, Angelo and the driver grabbing our suitcases from the trunk.
I took hold of the one rolling bag I brought and stared at the house. Though beautiful, the sight of it filled me with dread.
“Ready?” Angelo asked. Not waiting for a response, he whisked by me. Sophia followed, dragging her full Louis Vuitton travel set behind her.
He pushed open the gate halfway up the walkway. Taking a breath, I mustered up enough courage to follow.
Before he had a chance to touch the front door it flew open. A pretty haired woman in her fifties or sixties smiled up at him.
“My sweet boy!” she cooed.
Angelo bent to kiss both her checks. “Mariel, how are you?”
“So good,” she gushed, her eyes flicking over his shoulder. “You have two girlfriends, huh?”
My cheeks heated up. Angelo and Sophia just laughed.
“I’m just joking honey,” Mariel told me, stepping forward to pat my shoulder.
She was nice, but her apology put me on the spot even more
. “It’s all right,” I mumbled.
“Holy Moly,” she declared, taking two of Sophia’s bags. “Let’s get you inside. Angelo, your mother and father are in the great room.”
“Thanks Mariel.”
Sophia strode across the threshold, already confident in her new surroundings. I went a little slower. As I passed Angelo he put his hand against the small of my back. The touch helped me breathe easier, helped me realize there truly wasn’t anything to be worried about.
The foyer, wide and airy, went up to the second floor. A winding staircase matched the iron gates outside. Four large, arched doorways went off from the spot we stood, giving away little sneak peaks of the rest of the house.
Mariel smiled at me. “Just leave your suitcase here. I will put everything away.”
I released my tight grip and followed Angelo and Soph through one of the doorways and down a wide hall. More doors opened into various rooms. A library. Something that looked like a mini movie theater. At the end of the hall several steps took us down into what had to be the great room.
With one wall covered in windows overlooking the side yard, comfortably arranged furniture took up the rest of the space. Fire crackled in a large fireplace, stockings lining up its mantel.
“Here they are!” boomed a familiar voice. Angelo's father rose from one of the armchairs and came forward to kiss all three of us.
“How are you Mr. Salvatore?” I asked as he released me.
He cocked his head and playfully narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have to call me that. You know that.”
“Okay,” I said, just to appease him.
“This place rocks, Pops,” Sophia chirped, using the name Angelo did for his father.
Mr. Salvatore chuckled and pinched her cheek. “You girls look so beautiful. Even with all that bad city air. How can that be?”
“Good Italian genes, I guess,” she replied.
I nodded, wishing I had just an ounce of Sophia’s charisma.
When Angelo wrapped his arm around me I felt infinitely better. His touch had a way of working magic no matter what the circumstances.
“Angelo!”
We all looked around. Mrs. Salvatore hurried through the doorway. With her white turtle neck, tight jeans, and high heel boots, she gave any supermodel a run for her money. It was impossible to tell just how old she was, what with her face nearly free of wrinkles. I’d been with her out in public before and watched as men as young as eighteen stopped what they were doing to ogle as she passed by.
“Mom,” Angelo grinned.
She gave him a quick hug and then wrapped both me and Sophia up at the same time. Sandwiched between the two of them, a little bit of tension left me.
I didn’t know why I’d been nervous. Mr. and Mrs. Salvatore were amazing.
Just as she released us, a stampede of feet echoed in the hall. Into the great room came Dominic, Franko, and Tre.
“What up?” Franko shouted.
The three of them surrounded us, fist bumping Angelo and side hugging me and Soph in that way guys sometimes do when they’re trying to be friendly with a girl but not get too touchy-feely.
“How was your flight?” Dominic asked.
Franko jumped in before anyone could answer. “Man, we’ve been waiting for you forever. We’re gonna play football. You game?”
“Yeah,” answered Angelo. “Just let me...”
Soph stepped forward. “Do we have enough people?”
Tre and Franko answered at the same time, their voices a garbled blur. Behind me Mr. Salvatore said something, and just like that nearly everyone was talking at once, at least three conversations going on in the space of less than two square yards.
But, surprisingly, it felt good. Not overwhelming at all.
Actually, it felt amazing.
I’ve been worrying for nothing, I realized. Nothing at all.
Chapter Twenty-One - Angelo
With all the chattering and shoulder slapping, I managed to catch sight of Paige. Was all of this sudden attention too much for her? Following the conversation in the jet, I assumed she might be feeling stretched thin.
The smile on her face said otherwise.
My mother took Paige’s hands in hers and stepped back to survey her. “Your hair is getting long!”
“Yeah,” Paige agreed. “I’m thinking about cutting it.”
“It will be beautiful either way.” She looked over at Sophia. “How about I steal you two away for a little bit and show you around?”
“Sounds good,” Sophia agreed.
My mother winked over at me before putting her hands on the twins’ shoulders and directing them towards the hallway.
“So?” Franko pressed. “Are we going to play?”
“Let’s wait until Lia gets here,” Tre answered.
Franko made a face. “She can’t even hold a ball.”
“Put her on Tre’s team,” Dominic said. “He’s practically pro. It’ll even things out a bit.”
Tre shrugged. “She just needs practice.”
“I just need a drink,” Pops put in. “And Angelo just got here. Give him some space. Let’s go to the bar.”
We followed him to the billiards room, Franko and Tre jostling and joking the whole way. I tuned most of it out, but still managed to catch the terms blue balls and bro.
In the billiards room Dominic went to the bar to pour our father and himself some whiskey. I declined the offer for a drink and settled down into the leather love seat.
“The girls look good,” Pops commented, taking his whiskey. “But how are they really?”
I thought about how to answer him. A lot had happened in the last year. The arranged marriage that almost went down. Paige’s repressed memory of her parents’ deaths. The Italy properties Moretti left to the twins after Sophia offed him.
“Sophia is great,” I answered. “She was made for this old-world business.”
Pops sipped his whiskey. “And Paige?”
I wasn’t ready to say anything personal in front of Franko and Tre, who were at the far end of the room, glued to something on Tre’s phone screen. Probably porn with the volume turned down to mute.
“Paige is different,” I whispered. “She’s had different experiences. She and Sophia are like night and day.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“She saw some things she shouldn’t have.”
He nodded in understanding. “Did she get help?”
“Yes, years ago.”
Pops shook his head. “Leave it alone.”
I stared at him, surprised. “Seriously?”
“You can suggest counseling, but you know my feelings about that. It’s a waste of time. All that gushing on a couch with some idiot who has a bunch of degrees, and no fucking life experience? Half the time, they can’t tell their heads from his assholes, and they want to give someone else advice?”
I smiled. Maybe Pops wasn’t the right person to have this discussion with.
Dominic took a seat nearby, listening but not saying anything.
“She’s resistant to change,” I explained. “She won’t let go of that apartment she’s in with Sophia. She keeps all her stuff there, even though she barely spends any time in the place.”
“This seems to upset you.”
I leaned back into the cool leather. “I guess so.”
“But why?”
Dominic spoke. “Because he wants her to be his.”
I glared at my brother, but couldn’t deny it. Paige was already mine. She was the first woman I’d wanted to even spend more than a few hours with. I wasn’t about to let her slip away.
“So?” Dominic asked, peering at me.
“What?”
“When are you going to do something about it?”
“You’re going to have to stop speaking in riddles. I don’t get what you’re saying.”
Dominic sipped his drink. “Women aren’t that more complicated than men, Angelo. Not once you figure out thei
r basic wants and needs. Paige is waiting for you to step up.”
“I have to say, that still sounds like a riddle to me.”
Pops cleared his throat. “What Dominic is saying is that women like it when men make a decision and go for it. Paige isn’t going to move herself into your penthouse. She needs something big from you, something that will show her how serious you are.”
I tapped my fingers against the chair and looked away from them. The conversation had turned from one about the twins’ emotional health to my inability to show Paige I was serious about her.
“I love her,” I said firmly. “I tell her all the time.”
Dominic chuckled. “Aw, that’s so damn cute.”
I furiously rubbed my palms together, trying to keep my calm. “What are you suggesting I do?”
“Fuck, you have to ask?”
That one stopped me. Clearly, I did.
“Lock her down,” Dominic added.
“Christ, you son of a—”
“Angelo,” Pops cut us off. “He’s right. What were you planning to do with Paige?”
“You two need to stop talking about her like she’s a piece of property.”
“You’d better get her on lockdown before someone else does, little brother,” Dominic said with a chuckle.
I shot him a glare.
“Congrats, kid,” he added, raising his glass in a toast.
Chapter Twenty-Two - Paige
Mrs. Salvatore leaned forward against the counter, her soft hair sweeping across her cheek. “What did you do?”
Sophia shrugged and bit into a carrot stick. “I kept playing. It seemed like the best thing to do, you know? What’s another bare ass”
Sophia’s Fridays at work, whether they happened at one of her DJ gigs or at her second job, were way more interesting than mine. You could hardly call my computer crashing or the break room running out of coffee exciting.
Reading my mind, Mrs. Salvatore turned her brown eyes on mine. “And how is your job, Paige? Are you enjoying working for Victor?”
I sat up a little straighter on the stool. “Yes. Very much.”
Angelo: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Page 12