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I raised an eyebrow. “You’re only twenty-five years old and you’re already taking over? That’s impressive,” I crooned, putting a hand on his forearm. My skin crawled but I kept on my persona.
“Damn right it is,” Ricardo said, looking around. “You want to get out of here, talk somewhere else?”
“Not yet,” I said quickly, not wanting to be alone with him, but he grabbed me by the elbow and dragged me back inside.
“I could show you my bedroom,” he said in a low tone
I wanted to retch, pulling away from him. “I’ll be missed at the dinner,” I said.
Then someone cleared their throat close to me. I turned to lock eyes with Rocco, his sea-green eyes flashing. “We can’t miss the dinner,” he said, ignoring me even though he was looking right at me and talking to Ricardo.
Ricardo groaned. “I guess the old man might have a coronary if we do,” he agreed. Then he slid his fingers down my bare arm, looking me up and down. “We’ll have to take a rain check, chickie.”Chickie? I thought.Who even uses that term anymore?Ricardo Gallo was unattractive in all kinds of ways, looking even worse next to Rocco.
“See you at dinner,” Rocco said gruffly, grabbing Ricardo and dragging him toward the dining room. I inwardly groaned, my heart racing. Rocco had come and ruined everything, as usual, but I was glad I didn’t get cornered by Ricardo. Alberto had been standing right there, so he would have stopped it, though, and maybe I would have gotten some more information out of Ricardo.
I mingled with the rest of the party, talking to a few of the upper-level wiseguys in the area. They all knew me well and by name, and treated me like a little sister for the most part. Except for Ricardo, who was a few years older than me and a sleaze, most of thefamigliein the area were respectful.
When I found my placecard at dinner, I saw I was sitting right next to Rocco.Of course,I thought.The universe hates me.I wondered how I could get out of there, but in the end I knew I needed to stay, and at least Ricardo was seated next to Rocco so I could speak to him.
The first course came out, shrimp puffs, and I ate quietly for a moment, trying to think of how to bring up the laundromat incident. I didn’t want Ricardo (or anyone else, for that matter) to know how deeply entrenched I was in the lifestyle and my father’s business, but I needed to get a lead somewhere. “How have your businesses been going?” I asked Ricardo, leaning forward so that Rocco wouldn’t be in the way.
Ricardo shrugged. “The old man handles most of that,” he said flatly, clearly not interested, and I inwardly sighed, thinking that this was going nowhere. Rocco was so close to me I could smell his aftershave again, the same brand he’d used when we were kids. It smelled like sandalwood and home to me, and I hated myself for it. For his part, Rocco was mostly ignoring me, just giving me a glance now and again. He was sitting stiffly in the chair, though, clearly annoyed. It did give me a rush of pleasure that Rocco seemed to still be possessive over me, even though it shouldn’t. I shouldn’t care at all.
Ricardo excused himself for the bathroom and Rocco leaned toward me. “You’re playing with fire,” he said in a low tone.
“I know what I’m doing,” I snapped back in a hissed whisper.
Rocco looked at me for a long moment, his gaze seeming to look right through me. “What are you doing, then?” he asked.
“None of your business,” I responded, stuffing my face with more shrimp puffs. I was a bit of an anxious eater, and there was hardly anything more anxiety-inducing than Rocco’s presence this close to me.
Ricardo returned, sniffling, and I knew he’d been doing lines in the bathroom. That was good news—the drugs would make him more talkative and less inhibited—but unless I got him alone, that wasn’t going to help me. The second course was a rich and heady lobster bisque that was absolutely delicious, and the third course was veal chops and pasta. “The food is lovely,” I said to Ricardo. “Your chef is very talented.” Ricardo just snorted in response.
I didn’t think I was going to get anywhere until after dinner, when everyone was drunk and chatty. I nursed my own wine, wanting to keep my wits about me. Enzo chatted with the other wiseguys at the head of the table, and I looked around to see who was there. The Russos, sans Martina, were sitting across from me. Her brother and father were here, along with a few of her cousins. I wondered if she’d gotten in trouble about last night and that was why she wasn’t here.
The Marinos and Brunos were here, too, seated next to each other because Marco Bruno had just married Cecilia Marinos and their families were now intertwined. I thought about poor Cecilia, stuck with Marco who was a real pain in the ass, and felt a pang of sympathy for her. She’d always been such a free spirit, but her father had wanted the merger. I was glad my father would never approach me for something like that. He wasn’t interested in using marriage to merge families. “It’s the old way,” he’d told me when I’d asked him about it as a teen. “Women aren’t just things to be used anymore.” I smiled, thinking about him. My father took care of me, but he also respected me.
“What are you smiling about down there, young lady?” Enzo asked, catching my attention with a wave of his hand.
“Just this wonderful dinner,” I said quickly, knowing my social graces.
Enzo smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’m sorry Romeo couldn’t make it.” I didn’t like the fact that Enzo was drawing attention to my father not being here, but I just nodded and looked down at my food.
Rocco wasn’t eating, just pushing food around his plate with his fork. I glanced over at him, at the line of his jaw, the stubble just starting on his jawline. Why had he gone and gotten more attractive while he was away? I wanted to ignore him, wanted to leave this dinner and just tell my father I couldn’t get any information, but I’d already messed up once. I couldn’t do it again.
After the dinner was over, when all the men were smoking cigars and sipping brandy, I sidled up next to Ricardo again. But Rocco was standing right next to him, and when I opened my mouth to speak to Ricardo, Rocco dragged me out on the terrace. “What the hell are you doing?” he growled.
I pulled away from him, glaring at him. “I told you, it’s none of your business,” I said with my nose up in the air.
“Ricardo Gallo is my business,” he snapped back. “And he’s got a job to do tonight. He can’t go traipsing off with some…” he trailed off.
“Somewhat?” I demanded to know. “Finish your sentence.”
“Some princess who just wants power,” he finished, looking me right in the eye. I couldn’t help myself. I put both hands on his chest and pushed him, but he slid his arms around my waist, locking me close to him. “Careful,stellina,”he murmured. “You just think Ricardo is playing with fire.”
Pleasure hummed through my body at his touch, his tone, but I pulled away from him. “I’ve got a job to do,” I said finally.
Rocco scoffed. “Some job.”
