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Chapter Sixteen
Marco had given me a week to get my things in order. It was more time than I needed. I didn’t have a lot of things to take care of. Most of it was explaining to my family and Nikki that I would be getting married to a man they’d never heard anything about.
I had put that off as long as possible, but I was supposed to move into Marco’s apartment tomorrow. We hadn’t seen one another since the day he proposed, but he’d taken to texting me updates regularly.
First, it was about Mikey’s participation in the trial, and then, it was about keeping the cops away from me, and finally, when I hadn’t made an effort to move my stuff into his apartment, he made it clear that Friday was my last day.
“This is a fancy place, Ivy,” my mother said, looking around at the hotel we’d just entered. “We can’t afford this.”
“It’s fine,” I told her. Today was one of the few days where neither of us were with Mikey, so I decided to use the credit card Marco’s men dropped off and splurge a bit. I wasn’t too proud to use the money that I was earning.
“I have a reservation under Blanchi,” I told the hostess. The hotel was supposed to have the best high tea and brunch in the entire city, so I’d used Marco’s last name to score a last minute reservation. I’d googled my new husband, and while it was suspected that he was part of the Italian mafia, it was known that he was part of one of the richest families in the city. People were ready to overlook the crime part if they could get a piece of that wealth.
I saw it in the way the hostesses eyes widened and the deference upon which she led us towards our table.
“Who the hell is Blanchi?” my mother asked.
“That’s the same question I asked,” Nikki said. She was already at the table sitting with her hands folded primly and her eyebrows raised. She was dressed in a thick wool sweater that looked more in place than my worn skater dress. It was the nicest thing I owned. I hadn’t had much time to think about clothing over the last few years.
The hostess sat us before scurrying off towards her booth.
“I’m glad you were able to make it,” I told Nikki, ignoring her question. She’d been hounding me since the afternoon when the Russians broke down my door. The questions just got more frantic when I went to the club and quit. Nikki, more so than anyone, knew that I desperately needed the job, so quitting made her nervous.
“I was hoping that if I came you would finally stop ducking my questions,” she said.
I sighed and opened the leather-bound menu in front of me. I ran my fingers across the front. It was embossed with gold leaft, which underscored how expensive this place was. I tried not to think too much about the cost of a cup of tea here. If I did, it would make me vomit.
“It’s good to know that I’m not the only person who Ivy keeps secrets from.” I rolled my eyes. I didn’t keep secrets from my mother. I didn’t feel the need to tell her about things she didn’t care about.
Closing my menu with a snap, I turned my attention back to my mother and Nikki. I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to keep this to myself for too much longer, and they weren’t going to let any of us enjoy this place until I answered all of their questions.
I reached into my bag and pulled out the ring box Marco gave to me. “I know that this is going to sound a little crazy,” I told them. “But I’m engaged.” I popped the top of the box and showed Nikki and my mom the ring.
Both of them inhaled sharply as they saw the diamond. My mother’s mouth dropped slightly. “Where the hell did you get that?” she asked me, her voice no higher than a whisper. “Did you steal it from one of your clients?” She spit the word clients out as though it were dirty, and I felt as though she stabbed me in the gut. I knew she didn’t approve of my dancing, but I never thought that she judged me for it.
“I didn’t steal it,” I snapped. “I told you. I’m engaged.”
My mother shook her head. “Who would you know who could give you a ring like that?”
One of the reasons that my mother and I didn’t get alone was because of things like this. She always thought that I took after my father. He had been an aimless deadbeat, so obviously, I was prone to being the same.
“It’s Marco Blanchi, isn’t it?” Nikki asked. Her voice was soft as I looked at her with wide eyes.
“How do you know Marco Blanchi?” I asked.
“He was a regular at the club…” she trailed off and glanced at my mother. I knew what she wasn’t saying.Before his arrest.I appreciated that she was keeping that to herself. I didn’t need another strike against Marco. Not that I cared if my mother liked him or not. This wasn’t a real marriage.
“That’s how we met.” I reached out and slipped the ring on my finger. I hadn’t worn the huge diamond since Marco slipped it on my finger a week ago, and I tried not to tremble as I slid it on my finger.
My mother’s eyes immediately narrowed on the diamond, and I could practically see her upset. “Is this the man who came to the house?”
“He came to the house?” Nikki asked. “When?”
“A week ago,” my mother said. She shook her head and pursed her lips at the thought, which I didn’t understand considering that she’d spent all of thirty seconds near Marco. “I knew he was more than a friend. The way he looked at you…”
I rolled my eyes. “We’ve been seeing each other for a while,” I said. “And when he proposed, I said yes.” My words sounded lame in my head. No matter how many times I practiced telling my mom and Nikki about my engagement, I could never really get myself to sound like a woman in love.
“He’s rich.” My mother pointed to the ring on my finger. “He’s given you a credit card.”
