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She sighed, frustrated, but he knew that sound meant she was giving in. “Fine, but I get to pick where we go tonight.”
He frowned. “Yeah, about that . . .”
It was a Friday, which had become their day. Their schedules conflicted a lot, with her in school and Carmine out doing whatever he was told to do, but Friday nights were the exception. It was when the two of them got to be together and do the things normal couples did, like seeing movies and going to fairs. It was the one night a week when they put everything aside, when they didn’t have to think about the chaos in their lives, and they could finally just be.
Corrado seemed to understand, so he usually left Carmine alone that day. Usually being the key word. Sometimes he threw a wrench in their plans.
“There’s this thing tonight. Everyone’s supposed to be there.”
“What kind of thing?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.
“Just a thing,” he said, shrugging. “The new underboss’s son is getting married or whatever so they’re having a get together at Sicillitas.”
Typically those kinds of events took place at the Boss’s house, but Corrado wasn’t like the guys who used to run things. He tried to keep the Mafia out of his home, so special occasions were often spent in someone’s business now. Sicillitas was an upscale Italian restaurant owned by one of the Capos.
“So you have to go,” she said quietly.
“We,” he corrected her. “Corrado specifically said ‘You and Haven.’”
She frowned. He didn’t blame her. He didn’t want to go either, but Corrado was all about showing a strong front. He had gone out on a limb and vouched for her, something that made a few of the guys question his judgment. Haven integrating smoothly into their world was important to him.
Plus, even if Corrado would never admit it, Carmine was pretty sure he actually liked her being around.
“We won’t stay long,” he assured her. “The first chance we get, we’ll get the fuck out of there and do whatever you want.”
“Fine,” she grumbled.
He watched as she gathered her stuff, cleaning up paints and throwing away the discarded papers. He felt bad for not helping, but he knew he would do more harm than good. This was her sanctuary, and you just don’t go fucking with someone else’s safe place.
She put on her coat and grabbed the painting of the tree before turning back to Carmine. “You ready?” he asked. She nodded and smiled softly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. No, they were filled with dread, the happiness he had given her moments earlier forgotten.
It made his chest ache. He needed a drink. Or two. Or ten. Something—anything—to dull the bitter ache of disappointing her.
Carmine led her out of the studio and she got into the passenger seat of the Mazda, clicking her seat belt in place as he climbed in beside her. The drive home was silent, awkwardness surrounding them, seeping through Carmine’s skin and twisting his insides. He hated when things got like that between them, because he never knew what to say to her. Sorry you’re annoyed, tesoro. I can’t help I’m a loser and Get used to it, since I’ll probably keep disappointing you just didn’t seem to cut it, even though it was how it usually made Carmine feel.
She said not a single word when they arrived home, grabbing her things and getting out of the car before he could even shut off the engine. She used her key and disappeared inside without waiting for Carmine. He took his time and she was nowhere to be found when he finally made his way into the house. He went straight for the refrigerator, opening the freezer and grabbing the chilled bottle of Grey Goose. He pulled the top off, tipping the bottle back and taking a long swig.
He leaned against the counter and sipped on the vodka. His chest still ached, the alcohol doing nothing to ease his guilt, as he listened to the shower turn on and back off again on the second floor.
He heard her footsteps in the hallway eventually and replaced the top on the bottle, slipping it back in the freezer as Haven made her way downstairs. The moment he saw her, his heart skipped a beat. Her damp hair was slightly wavy, the dark locks nearly identical in color to her plain black dress. Her bare feet slapped against the wooden floor, exposing strikingly red painted toenails, but her skin, while scarred, remained untainted by makeup.
Simple, but beautiful. That was her.
Haven eyed Carmine peculiarly when she saw him lingering in the kitchen. “What are you doing?” she asked, her eyes drifting to the freezer before settling back on him. He didn’t blame her for her suspicions. She knew him well.
“Nothing.” It was true. Sort of. He wasn’t doing a thing but standing there.
“What were you doing?” she clarified.
“Nothing,” he said again. Not so true that time.
“Uh, okay,” she mumbled, still watching Carmine as she walked to the sink. “Are you going to change before we go?”
He glanced at his clothes. He had on a tie, at least—seemed good enough to him. “Do I need to?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think Corrado would be happy about the shoes.”
His gaze shifted to his Nike’s. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said, pushing away from the counter. He started to walk away but Haven grabbed his arm to stop him. He turned around, looking at her curiously, and she yanked Carmine toward her as she stood up on her tiptoes.
