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Walking out, I found Virgin out of his jeans, boots, and leather cut for the first time. In their place, he had black slacks and a matte black dress shirt. No tie. Slip-on loafers.
He'd shaved too.
And he looked good.
Good enough that I almost didn't want to go to dinner.
"And this, dear children, is where you stop eye-fucking one another," Thad told us. "And you," he said, pushing Virgin, "tell her that she looks beautiful. And you," he went on, pointing at me, "tell him he looks good all dressed up."
Virgin's lips curved up as he moved closer toward me, ducking his head down. "You look beautiful."
"Thank you. You look good too." He smelled better.
"So where are you taking her?" Thad asked, never one to miss an opportunity to butt in.
"Famiglia."
"Oh, fancy. Well, you two have fun. I am heading out to date Danny. You know, Danny-On-The-Down-Low. He got a room. I will see you in the morning." He was being ridiculously obvious. "Here, boo," he added, holding out my purse. "You have some Mags in the tampon zipper and your nightstand. You are all set," he told me in a blessedly quiet whisper. "You two have fun!"
"Thanks, Thad."
"Mmhmm."
"Take care of my girl," Thad told Virgin as he moved past, voice losing the light, amused tone, getting uncharacteristically serious.
"Got nothing to worry about with me," Virgin assured him before stepping out into the hall with me. "What's the matter?"
"I'm gonna have helmet head at a fancy restaurant," I declared, reaching up to touch the curls that came out perfectly, like they were excited for the date as well.
"Took the SUV tonight," he told me, hand going to my lower back as we waited for the elevator, stepping us both to the side to let off the lady down the hall who always stole Thad's magazines before giving them back to him claiming they were in her mail by mistake. We moved inside, the doors closing with a quiet click that somehow still made me jump. "You're nervous." It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway.
"Yeah. I... haven't been on a date in a long time," I admitted.
"Baby girl, I've never been on a date," he told me with one of those smiles that made his eyes go all warm. "So we can just trip along this whole thing together," he told me, hand slipping to my hip to give it a squeeze.
Trip along.
I liked that.
"Are you nervous?" I asked, watching as the button froze on the main level.
"I don't really get nervous, but I second-guessed these shoes for fifteen minutes. So that counts."
The drive to Famiglia was short.
I had never been inside the restaurant myself, but had walked the docks beside it, watching all the men in their suits walk in with their ladies in dresses, everyone looking altogether very fancy and wealthy since I knew the food was expensive because it was where my aunt made her dates take her when she managed to find someone who wasn't put off by her gruff personality.
It looked like I remembered it, but somehow nicer and brighter at the same time. The lights from the outside deck shined down on the choppy water below the stilts holding up the building. Inside, everything was dimmed to the perfect intimate lighting level, the colors black and gold and just a hint of red here and there.
"So did you and your brother work it out?" Virgin asked after we ordered our drinks, as we looked over the menu while we sat in our fancy rounded booth in the back of the restaurant that was saved just for us in a way that implied it was a big deal, like maybe had an in with the owners or something.
"We haven't spoken yet," I admitted, feeling guilty. Now that the anger had died away, I knew I had overreacted, that I read too much into his tone.
"Got some wounds there that need stitchin' up," Virgin told me, glancing up at me over his menu. "And I don't mean about last night."
"I know," I agreed. "It's a sore spot. I was pretending it wasn't because I was just happy to have him around again. And I didn't want to rock the boat or make things awkward. But we are going to have to have that uncomfortable talk, I guess."
"Your family loves you. That is worth working on. Even if it isn't comfortable."
"Are you close with..." I lost my sentence when the waiter came over with a bottle of complimentary wine From Mr. Grassi. "Do you know the owner?" I blurted out when he walked away again.
"I've met him and his sons. I wouldn't say we know each other. But there has always been an understanding with The Henchmen and the Grassi family."
Grassi family.
Family.
"Do you mean family as in family?" I asked, half leaning over the table to whisper it.
