by Kendra Riley
“Think nothing of it,” he told her.
But she did, and she felt like he was everything to her.
***
He had bought the dress with care, asking Catalina for her help. His sister had always been a fashionista in her own right, and the moment he called to inform Catalina that he was taking Aniya to the ball, Catalina stepped up her game. She had scoured the city for the best gown (off the rack), for Aniya to wear, taking into consideration her style and skin tone.
“You know,” Catalina told her brother over the phone, “I think she’ll look great in anything, it’s just that she’s not a risk taker when it comes to fashion.”
“She’s a single mother,” Dante reminded her, “that’s why I need your help. I can’t pull this off on my own. So, who are you taking?”
“No one. I’ll just be the daughter that hangs out with her parents at parties,” Catalina told him with a laugh. “I’m giving you two options, give me three hours. Good thing I’m out shopping, too.”
And Catalina delivered, with the finished product right before his eyes. He wasn’t lying when he said she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen in his life. He almost choked saying it, nearly overcome with emotion and truth. The earrings were a last minute decision, and he had purchased them after passing by a window display. They would look lovely hanging on her ears, and add to that,, the quiet glamour that Aniya had always had without her even realizing it.
He knew this was a big step -- that they were going to enter that ballroom, arms linked to each other, for everyone to see. They were together, without the need for titles, comfortable in each other’s presence. If someone asked, what would he say? She’s my date, he thought. She’s my girlfriend? He shook his head, knowing he would have an answer on the spot. It would come when it came.
For now, he focused on having Aniya’s attention all to himself. She seemed nervous, anxious, about a big affair. This was too public, he knew, but there was no shame in being linked together. She was a hard-worker, a smart and honest person, a loving one as well. With Aniya, he felt accepted completely.
He eyed her as soon as they arrived in front of the hotel. She was twisting a handkerchief in her hand, looking outside the passenger window, her eyes widening at the red carpet entrance and the cameras flashing everywhere.
“You okay?” he asked her.
She nodded, not looking at him, clearly preoccupied by the horde outside. He put the car on neutral. “Come on. We don’t want to miss out on the festivities,” he told her, as cheerily as he could.
“It doesn’t sound like you,” she said to him, as she got out.
“What doesn’t sound like me?” he asked her as he extended his arm out for her.
“Just sounding that happy,” she replied.
He smiled. He barely did sound cheerful, and he realized he was doing it, because he was nervous of how Aniya was going to take it all in. She was shy, sometimes antisocial, although her job called for it to be otherwise. He heard himself take a deep breath, as he felt her arm slip around his.
“Do I smile?”
“Just smile randomly,” he told her, as they began their ascent. The gala was in full swing, even if Dante had thought they were a bit late. There was a jazz band, and people were on the dance floor, enjoying the music, laughing, taking sips of their preferred drinks for the night. Chandeliers sparkled, and textiles hung from the ceiling, creating a wonderland of lights and colors.
He felt her grip on his arm tighten without her meaning to. He didn’t look at her, for fear he might look off, or nervous.
“Everyone’s dressed nicely,” she murmured.
“You think you aren’t?” he told her.
“I’m not used to this,” she replied.
“Mr. Santoro!” a woman greeted him, carrying a glass of champagne in one hand, wearing a black dress. “How are you? So glad you could make it. And Miss Compton, good evening.”
Aniya smiled, confused. Obviously she had never met this woman, but she had been trained well by the Estevez marketing group. “This is Miss Iglesias, marketing manager to the Estevez Group.”
“How do you do?” Aniya said.
“Your seats are on the left, shall I bring you to your seats?”
“No need, Miss Iglesias, we can do it ourselves,” Dante replied, “thank you so much.”
As soon as she left, Aniya faced him. “How did she know my name?”
“Their staff have to know people on a sort of personal basis. This is a fundraiser, anyway.”
“How much is it per plate?”
“A hundred and forty thousand, give or take.”
“Pesetas?” Aniya gasped. “A thousand dollars, you mean?”
“Yes, why?”
“Oh my god, this dinner better taste good.”
He found himself chuckling, enjoying the honesty that popped out of nowhere. They were met with another couple, and Dante calmly introduced her, and he saw the look in their eyes, and he knew that they wondered who she was.
“This way,” he told Aniya, who seemed flustered at meeting many celebrities and socialites in a span of a few minutes.
“Dante, Aniya,” someone called out. Dante looked to see Pilar walking towards him, with her boyfriend in two.
“Ah, Dante,” Carlos began, shaking his hand. “And who is this lovely lady?” he asked Dante, looking at Aniya.
“This is Aniya,” Dante said.
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
He and Carlos did a bit of small talk about work, and as they did, Dante overheard Pilar admiring Aniya’s dress and makeup, well, just about everything. He smiled, knowing that Aniya had an ally in the ballroom that had three hundred and fifty guests. The program started, and he listened for a few minutes, looking for his family. He found them across the room, and saw his sister, Catalina, almost pouting, even though she looked lovely.
There was no way out of it. He knew he had to introduce Aniya tonight. Out of respect for their relationship, and out of respect for his parents and Aniya, he would. There was the usual introduction, the explanation of how the foundation came to be, who had benefitted last year. Nothing new, Dante thought, except that this year, Aniya was with him.
Dinner came and went, and he saw Aniya frown, trying to decipher what the menu was. He dropped his voice to explain it to her, and she told him she wanted to copy it, but she wasn’t sure how she would. He laughed. Three glasses of wine later, they found themselves out in the hotel’s private garden for some fresh air.
There were a few others in the garden as well, in suits like he was, smoking in one corner. Another man came into view.
“Well, if it isn’t Dante Santoro,” the man drawled, and he clearly had too much to drink.
“Jose,” Dante found himself nodding. He disliked the man who claimed that they were the largest real estate company in Europe- it was entirely false. Dante knew their figures and his, and they were a far cry from second biggest, even…
“Is that, oh my god- is that you, Aniya?” Jose continued.
Dante looked at Aniya, and he saw her face looking momentarily confused. And then her eyes glazed over, and he couldn’t understand if she was hurt, or if Jose had done something wrong in the past to her. She said nothing, but she was staring at Jose like she had seen a ghost.
“It is you!” Jose continued. “Making your way up the ladder, I see.”
Dante took a step forward. “You’re making my date feel uncomfortable.”
“Your- your date?” Jose sputtered out. “Oh man, I didn’t know we had the same taste in women, Dante.”
So he had dated Aniya before? Was this the guy who made Aniya feel traumatized about dating? Aniya still looked shocked, and she froze. What was going on? He didn’t want to say it, but he had to fish out information. “I don’t understand what you mean,” he told Jose.
Jose laughed aloud, drawing the attention of the few smokers across. “Aniya and I dated for a while. It didn’t quite wor
k out. Two months, right?”
Aniya said nothing.
“Two wonderful months, but all good things must come to an end,” Jose chuckled. “So… here we are. Tell me, how did you two meet?”
“It’s a private matter,” Dante replied, seeing Aniya’s stress, “Aniya, shall we?” he said, holding onto her hand, the first time he had done so in all those months of dating. He felt her grip tighten, and her palms were cold.
“You’d better be careful,” Jose joked as they left. “She might break your heart.”
“You don’t even know me well enough to say that,” Aniya suddenly spoke up.
***
Aniya’s face heated up as she said that, and she felt a rage course through her, a rage that hadn’t existed in a long time, since she had walked away from him that night. She hadn’t been able to tell him she was pregnant with his child…She wanted to vomit. It had to happen tonight? On a magical night with Dante in tow.
“Of course I know you well enough,” Jose told her with a smile.
“You’re still the same, self-absorbed man since the last time I saw you,” she breathed out.
“You mean when you walked away from me in that restaurant, close to tears?” he said. “Well, mother did always say that I should share my used toys with the needy.” Dante glared at him, and he took a step forward. Aniya saw his eyes narrow and his fists clench. She held him back. “Don’t.”
“That’s right, Dante,” Jose told him, “walk away like she did.”
Aniya walked up to him, and then slapped his face, and she slapped him hard. “You’re a cruel person,” she breathed out, “you deserve more than a slap, and you don’t deserve your daughter at all.”
Aniya looked around and saw people ogling at them. Jose took a step forward, as if ready to slap her back, but Dante was in the way now. Someone pulled Jose away, and Jose struggled just a little against the man’s grasp.
“Let go of me,” Jose mumbled, straightening his suit. “This isn’t over, Dante.”
Jose walked past Dante, purposely hitting his shoulder. Aniya stood, shaking, unable to approach Dante, and unable to move from her spot. She heard Jose’s footsteps fade away, and then she felt a hand on her shoulder. Aniya looked sideways, to see Pilar, whose solemn eyes meant she had seen everything and had probably heard most of it.
Aniya took a deep breath, and she took a step forward, her hand reaching out for Dante’s shoulder.
“Don’t touch me,” Dante told her.
Stung, she felt her hand recoiling as soon as he said it, like she had touched the edge of something fiery hot. His tone chilled her to the core, however. He looked at her, like he had seen something vile, like she had done the most despicable thing on the planet.
“Don’t,” he told her again, as she took another step closer.
“Dante, let’s be reasonable here,” Pilar began.
Dante shook his head, gave one last look at Aniya, and then he walked out.
Aniya struggled to find her breath. He had left her, alone, standing there, surrounded by his finely dressed peers. She had told herself before that she would never want to make a scene, be it a breakup or a fight, even a proposal. Did it matter now? Jose had done the damage for them. And she hadn’t meant to tell Jose he had a daughter. It spilled out, the truth had spilled out at an unplanned time.
Is that why Dante was livid? Because she hadn’t told him who the father was? She didn’t have any idea they even knew each other! She had no idea they hated each other! She turned to face Pilar and said words she never thought she’d say to someone she barely knew.
“Please,” she choked to Pilar and Carlos, “please let’s take Isabella home. She’s in his house. Please, take us home.”
***
“Of course I know you well enough,” Jose had told Aniya with a smile as she rebuked him.
Dante felt the tones of sarcasm and sexual innuendo come from his mouth, and he felt disgusted by it. He flaunted that he had dated her. Had he and Aniya slept with each other that much? A flash of jealousy coursed through him.
“You’re still the same, self-absorbed man since the last time I saw you,” Aniya had told Jose.
“You mean when you walked away from me in that restaurant, close to tears?” Jose taunted. “Well, mother did always say that I should share my used toys with the needy.” Those words broke his patience. He took a step forward, his eyes ablaze with anger. Aniya stepped in front of him, her palm on his chest. “Don’t,” she told him. He took a step back, heeding Aniya’ request.
“That’s right Dante,” Jose told him, “walk away like she did.”
He had always been such a prick, Dante knew. The man hadn’t changed since the last time he had seen him.
Without another word, Aniya walked up to Jose, and she raised her hand, and it landed with a resounding slap on Jose’s face. “You’re a cruel person, you deserve more than a slap, and you don’t deserve your daughter at all.”
Dante blinked. You don’t deserve your daughter at all? What? He looked back and forth at Aniya and Jose. And then it dawned on him. It dawned on him he couldn’t be as violent as he had wanted to be. It dawned on him that he had to leave. Now. He watched as some man pulled Jose away, his fists were clenched, just like his own.
“Let go of me,” Jose demanded, “This isn’t over, Dante.”
It was a threat, and it was a threat Dante wouldn’t take lightly. The man was looking to mess things up, all because he was now dating his ex-girlfriend. He watched as Jose walked past him, hitting his shoulder in the process (on purpose, no doubt). He didn’t move from where he was, trying to make sense of what had happened. A rush of air passed through them, and it gave him a chill, and he shivered without meaning to. He heard Aniya take a breath.
“Don’t touch me,” he said, refusing to look at her. He closed his eyes and counted one to five, five was enough, wasn’t it? Her feet shuffled, moving closer to him.
“Don’t,” he told her again.
“Dante, let’s be reasonable here,” he heard Pilar say. Whose side was she on again? Hers? Aniya didn’t deserve that kindness, not from Pilar, not from anyone he held dear to him.
He spun around, and then he looked at her, and feelings of guilt, anger, betrayal- they all surfaced. He saw her struggling for breath, that fine line between a near cry and the internal fight to control the tears. He couldn’t even shake his head. He walked past her, with as much confidence as he could muster, with as much self-control as he could have, not wanting to look back. He was surprised he was still nice to the valet guy, was surprised he still had the patience to wait for his car.
He quickly called his secretary, apologizing for calling at such a late hour, and on a Friday, at that. He mumbled that Isabella, the little girl in his apartment, needed to be taken home and that Lupe should be driven back to the family manor.. “Text me if it’s done,” he said in a strangely hollow voice.
He drove in silence, almost in a robot-like fashion, his mind strangely blank, until he got home. The silence was deafening, he realized. He turned on the sound system, playing classical music on full blast, and the rage in him had begun to boil over. He hadn’t known, and it had to be Jose!
Jose had been his classmate in college, and he had been a business rival/annoyance of sorts for quite a while. Only, he had forgotten monetarily that they were. The moment he saw Jose again, he knew Jose still hadn’t gotten over the matter of competition. He just had to bring it up, huh? Aniya just had to date him! Anyone else, except him. The lowlife who depended on his family’s money.
He knew he should have asked her who the father of Isabella was! He should have asked her the moment they started dating. Who’s your baby daddy? That would have saved him this headache. It would have saved him time and effort, and the closeness he felt with Isabella would be void. To think he had begun to entertain those thoughts. How he could have adopted Isabella in the end… He was glad Isabella was no longer around. How else could he have enacted
on his rage?
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to count to ten. He wanted to smash something. He wanted to hurt something. He screamed something unintelligible, the frustration having broken its dam, and then he threw an ashtray to the wall, breaking it with ferocity.
Chapter10
Aniya quietly opened the door to her apartment, and she found Lupe, asleep on the couch. Isabella was neatly tucked away in their bed. Lupe woke up with a start, hearing her arrive.
“Hello Miss Compton,” she greeted, standing up and smoothing over her dress.
“Lupe!” she gasped. “How did you-“
“Long story,” Lupe said. It was clear she had had an inkling of what had transpired tonight.
Aniya breathed a sigh of relief. They had been nearly caught in a wild goose chase, with anxiety gnawing at her heels. What if he had taken Isabella and kept her away? Was he that kind of man? Dante had thought ahead, of course, taking the liberty to have her daughter chauffeured back to their apartment. Aniya knew Pilar had called Dante, and he ended the call, texting her instead; telling Pilar that he had Isabella driven back to the apartment with Lupe in tow.
“I- please, take this,” she said, pressing bills into Lupe’s hand. “For the cab.”
“I’m fine, Miss Compton,” Lupe told her, folding her hand. “The bus is still operating at this time. It won’t take long. We’re very near a bus stop. Get some rest.”
Aniya nodded, taking deep breaths, feeling the empathy of the Dante’s childhood governess. “Thank you so much, I-“ she stopped, collecting herself. “Thank you.”
As soon as Lupe left, Aniya found herself collapsing on a chair, and she began to sob. She hadn’t cried in the longest time, and she sobbed as quietly as she could, afraid she would wake up Isabella. She cried out of frustration, she cried from the hurt, she cried seeing Dante’s face like that. She had held the tears in for over an hour. The seconds ticked by into minutes, and the minutes turned into hours.
She was still dressed in the gown, her face was smeared with makeup. Her mascara was no good. It ran down to her cheeks. She grabbed a tissue makeup remover, and she began to wipe it all off. It would have been her war paint, it made her ready for the night. And now, it made her look like a fool, a sad clown.