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He laughed. “I sound like everyone else around here, but I’ve never heard an accent like yours. Where did you grow up?”
“California.”
“What parts?”
She hesitated. “The desert.”
He nodded. “No wonder I’ve never heard it. You’re the first native Californian I’ve met. You were born there, right?”
She nodded, his line of questioning baffling her.
“Well, Haven, since I was wrong and you can go out by yourself, you should come visit me sometime.”
Her eyes narrowed at the invitation. “Why are you interested?”
“You seem like a nice girl,” he said. “There’s no harm in us being friends.”
“Do you want to be friends because you want to get to know me, or do you want to be friends because it’ll upset Carmine? Because I can’t be friends with someone who wants to hurt him.”
She spouted off the words, not comprehending what she was saying until it was already past her lips and lingering in the air between them.
“I’m not that petty of a person,” he said.
“How am I supposed to know?”
“You’d have to trust me.”
“I can’t,” she said. “I don’t trust people.”
“But you trust him?”
“I do,” she said, “and nothing you say will change that.”
“Fine, but that doesn’t mean you can’t trust me, too.”
She stared at him. Could she trust him? “I should go.”
She walked away, pausing briefly when he called out to her. “Haven? You look beautiful. Carmine may be an asshole, but he’s a lucky asshole.”
She smiled. “Thank you, but I think I’m the lucky one.”
* * *
After paying for the soda, Haven drove back to the DeMarcos’ house to find a new shiny sports car parked out front. As she opened the front door, she was about to call out for Carmine when there was a bang in the kitchen. “What fucking took you so long?”
She sighed, not bothering with an answer. If he was in a bad mood, nothing would change it.
She paused in the doorway to the kitchen, stunned at the sight of him. He had on a black suit with a blue tie and a pair of black Nikes. Carmine turned to her, his eyes instantly raking down her body as she set the soda on the counter and handed one of the cans of Coke to him. He took it carefully, his eyes never leaving her.
She turned to leave the room, her nerves getting the best of her, but Carmine grabbed her arm to stop her. “You’re breathtaking.”
His eyes flickered to her mouth, and he kissed her sweetly. She parted her lips, welcoming him to deepen it, but instead he pulled away. It had become a common occurrence the past few weeks, a consequence of his recent temperament.
He turned his back to her to fill a glass with ice as she headed for the family room, sitting on the couch and folding her hands in her lap to wait. Carmine strolled in after a minute and set his glass down on the table, a plastic container in his other hand. He pulled a blue and gold flower out of it and slipped it on her wrist. “It’s a corsage.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said, gazing at it.
The front door to the house opened, and Dr. DeMarco walked in. “That’s a nice car outside,” he said right away, forgoing any type of greeting.
