“Then I’ll be there.” Swiping away the tear rolling down my cheek, I leave Luciano’s office, absolutely hating the way it feels like I’ve left my heart in there, too.
CHAPTER TWENTY
With my elbows on my knees, I lean forward, rubbing my temples with my thumbs as the incessant pounding of the electronic dance music pulses through me. I haven’t even been at Parq East for more than twenty minutes and I already want to get the hell out of here.
Ironically, the man who set this up sent a group text to us about ten minutes ago, apologizing for being late. Something about running behind while picking up my gift, but he’s on his way.
Sounds on par for Sully.
I wasn’t even interested in celebrating my birthday. Thirty-five feels no different than thirty-four did, or thirty-three before that.
“Birthday boy! What do you want to drink?” my brother-in-law, Sly, asks as he slides into the seat next to me, clapping my shoulder.
Lifting my glass, I swirl the contents so the ice clatters together. “Still working on one.”
We’re up in the VIP lounge equipped with our own bartender and private dance floor. Sully wasn’t kidding about this being aparty for me—our entire group is here—well, almost. Sully is still missing, as is Vinnie’s friend Cecilia.
Speaking of…
“I’m here! I’m so sorry I’m late!” Cecilia shouts over the music, bulldozing into the lounge. She’s practically running as she white-knuckles a gift bag and stumbles over her stilettos while tugging on the hemline of her dress. “Happy birthday, Luce!”
I’ve known Cecilia for years. She's five years my senior and was formerly employed by my parents to care for my younger sister while she was a child.
It’s no surprise they became such close friends—their personalities have similar qualities.
Taking the bag from her grasp, I give Cecilia a tight-lipped smile, the best I can do against the glaring annoyance that’s settling into my bones. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me anything, though.”
“It’s just a small something. You don’t have to open it right now.”
“Well, thank you.” I nod in her direction as she shrugs out of her coat and drapes it over the back of a nearby chair.
From my peripheral, I see Raina heading toward us with a cocktail in hand. My heart skips a beat, and I lock my focus on her.
She looks stunning, and what I wouldn’t give to grab her by the hips and pull her into my lap just to kiss the soft skin of her neck and hold her close.
My hand lifts on its own accord, and before I act on impulse, I drop it.
Paying me no mind, she walks past and pulls Cecilia into a tight hug. A small growl catches in my throat, irritated that she didn’t even look in my direction.
Who the hell even are you?I think to myself, mentally berating the man I’m turning into.
Next to me, Sly chuckles and shakes his head. I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking over at him. Instead, my eyes stay glued to the sexy blonde in the deep burgundy, long-sleeved, velvet mini dress with the plunging neckline.
“What do you think of Nixon’s companion this evening?” Sly muses before tossing back whatever he’s drinking.
“Should I have an opinion?” I can’t help it—I pull my gaze away from Raina and look over to where Nixon and his date are standing, overlooking the dance floor.
“She doesn’t seem like his type,” he muses.
“No one on the Upper East Side is his type, Sly. Nixon comes from a small town. You brought your motorcycle gang friend?—”
“The Sinners are good men. They’re a vigilante club.”
“—into a city full of glitz, glamor, and money. Those two worlds couldn't be further apart.”
“Sì, I suppose you are correct.”
We sit in silence, watching Nixon and the woman, who was introduced to me earlier as Carly. Her body language tells me she’s interested, but apprehensive. His tells me he only brought her so he wouldn’t have to show up alone.
