“Easy,” Nixon whispered from next to me. “We don’t want to have to buy a new one.”
“A new Sergio or a new table?” I said through clenched teeth.
“One’s irreplaceable.”
“What?” I looked down. “This is an antique?”
Nixon smirked. “I mean Sergio, you jackass.”
I shrugged and went back to my paper and read, you know if reading meant I stared at the same sentence while trying to eavesdrop on Mo and Sergio’s conversation.
“Family dinner.” Chase announced sitting down next to me. I scooted away towards Nixon and crossed my arms.
Pissed. I had to look pissed.
And ready to kill them.
All of them.
“Family dinner.” Nixon repeated, leaning back in his chair. “I’ll have Luca and Frank let everyone know. Most the Alferos are in town, The Nicolasis just flew in this morning, so we’ll plan for something around five.”
Chase cracked his knuckles. “I’ll have Mil help me cook.”
“You sure about that?” Phoenix stumbled into the kitchen took one look at me and glanced away—no recognition. No emotion. Damn he was good. “Last time I ate something she cooked, I got food poisoning.”
“I was five.” Mil rolled her eyes. “And it was cookie dough, I blame the raw egg.”
“Note she said raw.” Phoenix plopped down on his chair. “I’ll be helping Luca and Frank today.”
“Great.” Nixon sniffed and stole part of my paper. “Just make sure nobody shoots anyone on the way here.”
“Can’t make any promises,” Phoenix said blandly. “But I’ll give them all the talk.”
“The talk?” Trace asked in a quiet voice, though she seemed a lot less hostile than earlier.
“Yeah.” Phoenix didn’t make eye contact. I wasn’t sure if he felt guilty over what had happened or what was going to happen, either way his eyes averted to the wood table as he shrugged and answered, “The whole, a bullet for a bullet, a punch for a punch, you kill my Family I obliterate yours, you know… The Talk.”
“Yeah.” Trace squinted. “They don’t teach that in school.”
“Speaking of school.” Mo finally spoke up. Her voice made my entire body tense… I wasn’t sure if it was from addiction, yearning, or fear. Maybe all three. “I want to enroll for Winter classes.”
All eyes fell to her.
Trace cleared her throat. “I should probably join you.”
“Me too.” Mil nodded slowly. “I have a year to finish anyway.”
“Wait.” Nixon held up his hand. “You guys want to go back to Eagle Elite?”
“Why not?” Trace shrugged. “It’s not as if someone’s going to murder us in the iron gates.”
Nixon glanced at me, I looked down, my eyes were guilty. It had been my suggestion. I couldn’t believe Mo was actually listening to me. Then again, maybe I could.
She was moving on.
And it hurt like hell.
Part of me wanted her to fight, a giant part of me wanted her to push every boundary I set in place. Instead, she listened to me. She was fulfilling her promises and for once in my life I really wished she wouldn’t.
Sergio reached across the table and touched Mo’s hand to gain her attention. I gripped one of the butter knives in my fingers in anticipation of cutting his off.
“Great idea, Mo.” He winked at me. “I can always go with you girls when you enroll. The new Dean is a close friend.”
“That’s true,” Nixon said slowly. “Okay, but not until Winter classes start, alright?”
“Great.” Mo took a drink of coffee then looked directly at me. The smile that was originally on her face transformed into something I never thought, in all my years I’d see directed at me.
Fear.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Life always presents opportunities for redemption.
Phoenix
“NIXON?” I CLEARED my throat. “A minute?”
With a swift nod, Nixon stood, kissed Trace on the head and led me into his office shutting the door behind him. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” I braced my hands behind my head and sighed. “I just… I hit a snag.”
He pursed his lips together. “What type of snag?”
“The female kind.”
“She pregnant?”
“What?” I gasped, horrified. “No, what? Is who pregnant?”
“Easy.” Nixon grinned. “I was kidding and I don’t even know who you’re talking about.”
Swear sweat started to pour from my temples. My body demanded I pace back and forth to get rid of all the tension and anxiety building inside of me. “Bee.” I cleared my throat. “Tex’s sister.”
“Tell me she’s not dead.”
“She’s not dead.” Right, the woman would be the death of me, not the other way around. “She’s just making things difficult on those I left in charge. I think it might be good to bring her to dinner and introduce her to family. Alfonso’s been appeased for the moment.”
“How?” Nixon licked his lips.
“Luca had me deal with the situation.” I tilted my head and narrowed in my gaze, basically challenging him to doubt me.
“So… problem solved? Just like that?” He crossed his arms.
“For now…” I said slowly. “Yes, just like that.”
“Do I want to know how?”
“No.” I said honestly. “And even if you did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Damn.” Nixon sighed. “Luca really did a number on you, didn’t he?”
I shrugged. “So, Bee?”
“Won’t that be like waving a flag in front of the Campisi clan?”
“Why yes.” I smiled. “Yes it will.”
“We have your boss and his sister and mean to do what? Go to war?”
“Not war.” I stuffed my hands in my front pockets. “Besides, Alfonso’s been appeased, he never wanted her anyway. In fact, the minute I infiltrated the family he couldn’t get rid of her fast enough, she has a… wild streak.”
“Wild as in, she’s cranky?”
“Wild as in she shot me in the arm.” I coughed. “Wild.”
“Ah, so you’ve met your match.”
I felt my entire face pale as my body went rigid as a statue. “No, I don’t… I mean… I haven’t been with a girl. Look, is it okay or not?”
“Phoenix—”
“I’m asking permission.”
“Bring her.” He snapped. “And Phoenix, if you need to talk to someone or—”
“I’m straight,” I fired back and grabbed the handle to the door. “See you tonight.”
“Be safe.” He called.
“I’ll try.” I lied. Because safe wasn’t a word I would use to describe what I was around Bee. Try… tortured. And now that I’d slipped information to Tex, now that I was playing both sides hoping that the end result would be worth it, my entire life depended on the trust of Tex and his sister as well as Nixon.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I looked down at the screen.
T: She’s all yours. Bitch bit me.
Hell, it was going to be a long ass night.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Sicilian Mafia Rule #5: Never look at the wives of friends. Ever.
Mo
TEX DISAPPEARED FOR MOST of the morning and afternoon. By the time the scents of dinner started floating through the house I was ready to lock the door to my room and stay there.
My plan had been simple; cause him to react in any way possible. He’d reacted all right, just not the way I suspected. He almost ripped the table apart with his bare hands and I’m pretty sure at one point contemplated stabbing Sergio with a butter knife. But that was it.
I let out a breath and slouched in my big chair, staring at myself in the mirror.
It was time for plan two.
Make him want.
Wearing that white bikini was out of the question, but maybe wearing a short dress wasn’t? I knew we??
?d said our goodbyes but part of me wondered what would happen if I just fought for him? What if I fought for us? I had to try right? Isn’t that what wives do for their husbands? They fight until they have nothing left. And I was going to do the same thing. If only I could convince him that I’d follow him anywhere, do anything to be with him. Even if it meant moving back to Sicily, even if it meant leaving my blood.
A loud knock interrupted my thoughts as two heads poked around the door. Trace and Mil.
They both wore wide grins.
“What?” My eyes narrowed as I crossed my arms. “You guys look suspicious.”
Laughing they tumbled into my room. Not a care in the world those girls, either that or they hid their fear well. The dinner wasn’t going to be pleasant.
“So.” Mil fluffed her hair in the mirror while Trace walked over to the bed and sat. “We’re going to make you look amazing.”
“You mean I don’t look amazing now?” I gasped pulling at my New York Giants t-shirt.
“Tex hates the Giants.” Mil laughed.
“I know.” Grinning I looked down. “Thought he might enjoy a little teasing this morning.”
“Yeah, and that ended well.” Trace said from the bed.
“Hey!” I threw a pillow at her. “When Nixon was mean to you, who helped you?”
“Um, not you?” She caught the pillow. “On account that you had five billion secrets and refused to tell me any of them.”
I waved her off. “Excuses.”
“He’s an ass.” Mil pointed out. “You still want him?”
I licked my lips and looked down at my clenched hands. “He gave me one hour…” My shoulders tensed. “Then another two to say goodbye… we slept together and that was it.”
“Bastard,” Mil hissed, while Trace’s eyes watered with tears on my behalf.
“It’s fine.” I lied. “He’s only doing what he thinks is right.”
“Which is probably wrong.” Mil’s eyebrows arched. “You know, since he’s male and all.”
“So very, very, true,” Trace agreed.
“So.” Mil rubbed her hands together. “We’re going to put you in a sexy black dress, stiletto heels, and bust out the bright red stripper lipstick that Chase never lets me wear on account that I remind him of strippers.”
“Takes one to know one.” Trace held up her hand for a high five.
“I’ll take that.” Mil slapped it.
I rolled my eyes and stayed put. “I don’t really feel like getting all dressed up only to get rejected in front of my family.”
“Chin up.” Mil smiled. “Chase does it every day.”
As both girls started walking toward me I knew I had no option but to concede and let them help.
Maybe, just maybe it would work.
****
An hour later, and I was pretty sure Mil was under the impression that hair spray was used to keep everything in place, not just hair. I was like a walking dome of aerosol as I straightened my dress in the mirror and looked at my kohl-lined eyes.
They’d given me bright red lipstick, a smoky eye, and teased my hair until it begged for mercy. Yeah strippers had nothing on me right now.
My dress was officially so short I was afraid to pick up something off the floor lest I give one of the older associates a stroke, and my Michael Kors heels made me almost six feet tall, a relative giant.
A knock.
It was the girls. They said they’d come back for me, more like threatened that if I tried to sneak through the window they’d just track me down and bring me back. I knew they would too. It was Mil and Trace.
“Ready?” Mil peeked around the door and grinned saucily. “Damn girl, you clean up well.”
Trace winked and pushed the door open wider. Both of them had tight cocktail dresses on that weren’t nearly as short as mine. Mil’s was a strapless plain dress in navy blue, paired with taupe heels and Trace wore a white halter dress with red heels.
Apparently I was the only Vegas stripper in the group. Fantastic.
“Come on.” Mil held out her hand. “Family’s already starting to arrive, and Chase is in the kitchen freaking out over the shrimp.”
“Of course he is.” I gripped her hand and followed both girls down the hall towards the laughter and smells.
Chase was in the kitchen, chugging wine from one hand and stirring something with the other. His apron was splattered with something yellow and he looked a little drunk.
“Chase?” Mil came up behind him. “Did you save the shrimp?”
“I hate shrimp,” he muttered. “Yeah I saved them after the butter freaking sprayed all over my apron and—” He stopped talking when his eyes scanned me from head to toe. “Tex is going to shit a brick.”
“Tex?” Nixon walked into the room and glanced at me, did a double take, then stalked towards me. “No, turn around, change.”
“I’m not a kid.” I crossed my arms making my boobs look bigger in the strapless sweetheart dress. I knew they looked bigger because the dress was so low it was entirely possible they were going to fall out at any minute.
“Damn it, Mo!” Nixon smacked Chase, probably because he was convenient, and reached for the wine bottle. “This isn’t open for argument, you will change. Now.”
“No she won’t,” Trace challenged. “Because that’s my dress, and I believe you told me that if I didn’t buy it, you’d just go back to the store and get it.”
Nixon’s eyes flashed. “For you.”
“So why can’t Mo borrow my clothes?”
“Yeah,” Chase piped up, his smile wide. “Why can’t Mo wear your wife’s clothes?”
Nixon closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mo…” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Please? Tex is going to lose it, I can’t… he can’t lose it in this type of environment.”
“Tex is a big boy.” I uncrossed my arms. “A very big boy.”
“Didn’t need to know that.” Nixon coughed behind his hand and looked helplessly at Chase, who offered him a wine glass and a pat on the back.
“It will be fine,” I lied, knowing full well it wasn’t going to be fine when Tex saw me, his reaction would probably be worse than Nixon’s was, and Nixon was currently finishing off half a bottle and staring at me like lightning was going to strike any minute.
“Nixon.” Sergio walked into the room, texting on his phone. “Nicolasi clan just pulled up—they’re going to want wine.” He glanced up in my direction and swore his entire jaw going slack. “Damn it, Nixon, do something!”
“About what?” I sauntered by him and snagged a glass of wine off the table. “World hunger?”
“You know damn well what I’m talking about.” Sergio’s nostrils flared.
“She’s an adult.” Nixon croaked, right my bet was that he almost choked on the word adult. “She can wear what she wants.”
Sergio shook his head a few times before muttering more curses under his breath and walking out of the kitchen.
The girls and I helped Chase get the appetizers out along with the wine, men poured into the house, some our age, but most of them three times our age and watching us with the type of curiosity I wasn’t comfortable with. It had been years since the Nicolasi family had decided to visit and we weren’t exactly on great terms after my father all but kicked them out of the country.
One of the elders walked by and spat on the ground. Right, my point exactly. I quickly stepped over the spit, offered the grumpy man some wine and continued my search for Tex.
It wasn’t until an hour into the guests arriving that I knew Tex had walked in the room.
All talking ceased.
All eyes were behind me. Slowly I turned to see Tex in gray slacks and a tight white button up. He looked good enough to eat with his stormy blue eyes taking in every single inch of the room.
I waited for those eyes to fall on me.
And when they did, I took a step back, as the blue raged from storm to hurricane with
in a second.
“Campisi.” The man who had spit on our floor nodded his head. “It is good to see you, yes?”
“That depends.” Tex took a step towards the crowd and tilted his head. “Are we going to have trouble this evening?”
Holy crap. I quickly looked at Nixon, but he was watching with mild amusement. What the heck! Sweating, I nervously licked my lips and waited for someone to say something.
The man chuckled. “Ah, to be young again.”
“That’s what I always say.” Luca stepped up and joined in laughter then turned briefly to Tex, giving him the coldest look I’d ever seen in my entire life.
Frank, Trace’s Grandpa nodded once then went to Tex and led him into the room. “A few men you should meet… trustworthy men who despised your father.”
“A friend of my father is my enemy.” Tex snorted. “An enemy of my father is my friend.” He held out his hand and began conversing, and I watched in horror as every single man in that room straightened their ties and focused in on Tex as if he was the Cappo already.
He walked into the room and demanded their allegiance.
And they freely gave it.
Because of blood.
A choking sensation washed over me as I looked down at my dress. What was I trying to prove? My fighting for Tex wouldn’t save us.
Not when he’d already jumped in with both feet.
“Mo?” Sergio said from behind me. I jumped a foot and turned.
“Hmm?”
“You okay?” His eyebrows drew together in concern as he looked from Tex to me.
“Fine.” I waved him off. “Just a bit stressed, lots of guns in the room and all that.”
“Guns are tools, try not to think of them as weapons. After all, people kill people, guns are merely the object they use in order to carry out the sentence.”
“Comforting.” I snorted.
“You need a drink.” His fingers gripped my elbow as he led me out of the room and into the kitchen.
“Yeah,” I sighed. “I really do.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Things look better when you’ve spent time apart from someone or something you care about. Said no one. Ever.
Phoenix
“GET OUT OF THE DAMN CAR.” I gritted my teeth. “Now.”