Pointe and possession, p.4
Pointe & Possession, page 4
Lorcan laughed through his nose and set his book down. “We’ll need to do that soon, then, or they’ll suspect you of more than just an unwilling groom.”
“My thoughts exactly. Have you scheduled a flight yet?”
“Yes. I booked it after I left earlier. I leave in three days.”
I sighed. “Fine. I’ll extend an invite to the Marinos for tomorrow evening. Sleep well, uncle.”
I grumbled on the way back to my own room. The stress of being Boss was heavy all the time, but with the engagement on my back, I felt weighed down by the responsibility of it all. Especially by the weight of the knowledge that Fern would be my wife in a few short months and I’d have to tolerate her for however long it took us to figure out what their plans were.
7
Rory
“Callahan has extended a dinner invitation. Since we have appearances to maintain, you will be required to attend.”
My heart sank and panic seized my lungs. I didn’t want to see Callahan again.
What if he brings up the kiss? Sweat dampened my palms and I squeezed my hands into fists.
“Do not try to argue, Aurora, unless you wish to receive another lashing before dinner.”
I gritted my teeth and nodded like a good little daughter. Fern smiled at me, full of venom and hatred. “Do try not to embarrass me tonight, sorella.” She sneered the word, full of sarcasm and condescension. “And don’t even think of speaking to Cal again. I saw you two together. I’ll make sure Carlo makes you bleed next time if you so much as breathe in Cal’s direction.”
Elio sighed. “Mia figlia, she will have to be cordial to him. We have to keep on his good side.”
Fern huffed. “Fine, but if you so much as step one toe out of line, so help you God.”
I smiled at her, showing a little more tooth than necessary. “I’ll behave. I promise.”
I turned on my heel and climbed the stairs, heading to my room when Elio’s voice stopped me.
“And be sure to dress presentably. He’s invited us to join him at Grandioso. Find something formal. If you’re unsure, ask Fern to help you find something.”
“Of course,” I replied sagely. I’d ask Fern for fashion help over my dead body.
I thumbed through the dresses in my closet and settled on a light blue, floor length fitted sheath style gown. The material shimmered like it was covered in tiny crystals. The cowl neck came up to thin spaghetti straps and the back dipped low to bare my skin.
I showered and curled my hair, pinning pieces up to create a low maintenance updo. A few stray hairs framed my face. I swiped a nude shimmer over my lids and a pale pink gloss over my lips and applied mascara before slipping into the dress.
As I walked down the stairs, Elio and Fern stared up at me. Elio looked surprisingly pleased but Fern was absolutely fuming. She wore an olive green tea-length dress that stopped well above her knees, thanks to her height. The color was remarkably similar to the one and only diaper I changed after Fern’s cousin had given birth. The material was ruched and bunched in unflattering places. The neckline was square and accentuated her broad shoulders. Her hair hung limp and straight, her eyeliner was smudged at the corner and she had plum purple lipstick on two of her top teeth.
I found a ridiculous amount of pleasure in her jealousy. “You look lovely, Fern,” I said, voice dripping in sincerity and sugary sweetness.
“Let’s be going, now, mia figlia. We don’t want to be late.”
The car ride to the restaurant was quiet and my mind raced a mile a minute. I was nervous about seeing him again but trusted he wouldn’t mention the kiss. If he did, it would end his engagement and this peace treaty was necessary for both families. But still, I worried.
The memory of his touch, the way my skin had reacted before my mind even registered the pleasure of his calloused fingers on me, the way his eyes had burned as they focused on my face, it all swam through my mind on a loop, stirring up faint arousal and even more nervousness.
By the time we arrived, I had practiced my greeting a thousand times and was determined to be as short as social graces would allow. I had conjured his image in my mind to prepare myself for seeing him again. I pictured his eyes over and over, the pale, minty green ringed by a darker pine, in the hopes that I wouldn’t get lost in them again.
But nothing prepared me for actually seeing him. I walked behind Fern and Elio, mostly hidden behind their larger forms. I saw him seated at the white covered table before he stood and buttoned his jacket to greet us. He introduced Lorcan, the elderly man standing next to him, before he greeted Elio with a firm handshake that had Elio rubbing at the soreness afterwards before he turned to Fern. He leaned in to kiss her cheek and his eyes found me over her shoulder.
He stopped before he reached Fern’s raised cheek, his face slack and his eyes wide and focused on me.
And despite all my practice in the car, I was lost. After a delayed moment, he leaned in and finished greeting Fern. A strange swirling nausea found me as his lips touched her cheek. He gently moved Fern out of the way as he stepped towards me and she gasped at the rude maneuver before shooting daggers at me.
Do not touch him, her eyes screamed.
He reached out and grabbed my left hand, bringing it gently to his lips. He stared into my eyes as he kissed the back of my fingers. His thumb massaged the top of my ring finger before he lowered my hand.
“Pleasure to see you again, Rory.”
“Rory?!” Fern’s voice was nearly a screech.
“Yes, Rory.” Callahan glanced at her over his shoulder. “Surely you know Aurora,” his eyes met mine sharply, “prefers to be called Rory?”
“Actually, Fern and Elio only call me Aurora. It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Byrne.”
“You can call me Cal.”
Fern’s breath was heaving through her nostrils and I imagined if she were an animated bull, steam would be billowing out with each breath. The image almost made me giggle.
I pulled my hand from Cal’s and smiled neutrally at him, reminding myself to be cordial and nothing more. “Nice to meet you officially, Cal.” I stepped back behind Elio to put space between us, hoping to appease Fern.
Cal’s eyes followed me before he looked at Elio. “Please, have a seat.”
The fact that he was taking the lead and giving commands to Elio was a thinly veiled disrespect. Usually, the older of the two would take the lead, so Cal stepping in would be a slap to Elio’s pride. That, coupled with his blatant disregard for Fern and his stern attention to me, and I knew my night was going to be a painful one.
8
Callahan
Bring the ballet shoe on my desk. Be quick about it.
I glanced at my phone for the tenth time since I’d sent that text, wondering what could be taking Carson so long.
My little ballerina, my fecking wet dreams, sat across from me in a shimmering blue dress that hugged her lean form beautifully. Her pale hair shimmered in the dim lighting of the restaurant. Every movement she made was graceful and fluid, making her dress glitter and shine. Even the long slope of her throat moved gracefully as she sipped her wine.
I was fecking spellbound by her.
Elio filled the space with annoying, meaningless chatter that I tuned out almost as soon as he’d opened his mouth.
Lorcan must’ve seen me staring because he gently stepped on my foot under the table. I growled lowly at him and he removed his foot from mine, his eye never leaving Elio, giving the man the illusion that someone was listening to him.
Fern sat turned toward her father, her chin propped on her fist like every word he was saying was gold. “What did he do then, Papà?”
Elio’s response was lost as my eyes landed on Carson approaching with a silver gift bag in his hand. He handed it to me and leaned down to whisper in my ear.
“Men were spotted scoping out the east location, sir. We’ve stationed extra guards at all entrances and around the grounds.”
He stood and stepped away, melting into the background as only a good bodyguard could do.
The east location was code for the safehouse on the east end of town where we kept all our loose cash. If they knew about that location, it either meant we had a rat, or someone was being tailed. Either option was unacceptable. I made a mental note to reach out to Elliot at Wilde Security to have more cameras installed.
Fern was eyeing the gift bag greedily, but I waited until Elio finally stopped talking to raise the gift bag, pushing it across the table to rest in front of Rory.
“I have something of yours, mo solas.” Fern’s hand fell to the table with a dull thwap, sending the liquid in our glasses rippling. I ignored her.
Rory’s face flamed bright red and her wide eyes flicked from me to Elio. Fear glimmered in them and I knew, I knew, that he’d been the one to leave the bruise on her cheek.
She slowly reached for the bag, pulling out a lone piece of tissue paper and sighing in relief when she saw the contents. “Oh,” she breathed. “My pointe shoe! I thought I’d lost it. Thank you, Mr. Byrne.”
“Cal, please,” I reminded her. Her eyes flicked to the Marinos again and I could feel her nervousness from here.
I looked over to Lorcan and could see the resignation in his eyes. His mouth pinched but he raised an eyebrow and nodded at me in a ‘go on then’ fashion.
I raised my whiskey glass, spinning it between three fingers before speaking in a conversational tone. “You know, Elio, the contract states I must wed a Marino. It doesn’t specify which Marino.”
The ballet shoe hit the table with a quiet thud and Fern inhaled sharply. Elio’s face was pinched and red, his eyes glaring angrily.
Rory was pale and her face shined with a thin sheen of sweat. She reached for her wine glass, taking it between trembling fingers and bringing it to her lips. The red liquid inside shook from the force of her tremors.
“And exactly who did you have in mind, Cal?” Elio asked.
“It’s Callahan, actually,” I said politely. His nostrils flared as he looked furiously at Rory. “Truthfully, I was thinking I’d prefer Rory instead. She does look just ravishing this evening.”
Liquid spilled over the rim of her wine glass and she immediately grabbed her napkin, trying to mop up the white table cloth, muttering apologies quietly as she frantically dabbed at the small red spot, her eyes darting nervously toward Elio. She seemed overly-anxious for such a small spill, and as I glanced between her face and Elio’s red, angry one, I wondered if the engagement party was not the first time he had marked her pretty skin. My stomach tightened uncomfortably at her nervousness over the small spill so I cleared my throat to grab her attention. When she looked up, I casually reached over and pushed Lorcan’s wine glass over with one finger, sending the liquid across the table and watching her as she watched it spread, soaking into the table cloth. Her eyes widened and although she didn’t smile or stop trying to mop up her small mess, she did stop shaking. But she still pressed her napkin to the small spill she had caused.
“Aurora is not a Marino,” Elio said angrily. “She is a Rossi.”
“But she’s been with you since she was barely one, right? She’s been your daughter since you married her mother. You said that this dinner was to properly meet our families. The Italian thing to do would’ve been to adopt her before her mother died. Quite sad, that. I’m sorry for your loss, mo solas.” My response had started snarky and sarcastic, but it ended in sincerity.
She swallowed and finally gave up on trying to save the stained tablecloth. “Thank you,” she muttered quietly, keeping her eyes downcast. I watched her for a moment, waiting for her eyes to meet mine. When she didn’t look up, I reached my long leg out and nudged her toes with my own. The moment her eyes met mine, I spoke again.
“Yes, I think she would be a Marino by your customs. She’ll do just fine,” I concluded, as if I held all the power here.
And if Elio wanted to use my influence to reassert his own, then I did.
“Of course, I’ll not take an unwilling bride,” I said to Rory. “Are you willing to fulfill the contract to complete the peace treaty?” Her eyes flicked to the Marinos again and I gently stepped on the tips of her toes. Her eyes shot back to mine.
“Um-uh-” she stuttered. “I need to use the restroom. Excuse me!” She threw her napkin on top of the food still filling her plate, barely touched.
I watched her rush into the ladies’ room. “I think I fancy a trip to the restroom myself,” Lorcan said casually. He stood, folded his napkin beside his plate and bowed his head to Elio. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.” I watched him until he turned down the hallway to the restrooms.
“Mr. Byrne,” Elio said in what I imagined was his most professional tone. “There is a reason we have kept Aurora out of the public eye. Losing both your parents so young can be taxing on the mind. She…She’s not quite right, you see.”
“Oh, believe me, Elio, I know all about losing parents at a young age. If you’ll recall, I never knew my father, and my mother was murdered when I was just weeks old. I think I’d be able to help her process her grief. Lord knows you and Fern haven’t bothered to help her.” His throat bobbed with a swallow. “No,” I drawled. “You’ve just kept her out of the public eye, treated her like an embarrassment.” I tracked my uncle returning from the restrooms with a shaken Rory in tow.
I leaned in and spoke low. “If she doesn’t agree, I’ll follow through with the marriage to Fern, but know this - I will not be pleased with it.”
I leaned back in my seat and Fern sputtered in outrage just as Lorcan and Rory returned. She straightened her spine and raised her chin regally. Oh yes, she’s going to make a wonderful wife. She’d need all that strength she was displaying as the wife of a Boss.
She swallowed another mouthful of wine as she met my eyes before she lost a little of her courage and looked back to Lorcan. He nodded, just a tiny movement of his chin that most wouldn’t have noticed. That seemed to reassure her and she gathered her courage around herself like a cloak.
“I’ll accept the proposal and will happily fulfill the contract. I’ll respect our marriage just as I would if it were borne of love and not responsibility.” She dipped her head. “You do me an honor, Mr. Byrne,” she said nobly.
Oh, I’ll honor you just right, mo solas.
9
Rory
“You know, Elio, the contract states I must wed a Marino. It doesn’t specify which Marino.” I dropped my pointe shoe and it landed on the table, sending my fork clattering off my plate and onto Lorcan’s lap. Fern inhaled so sharply I was certain her eyeballs were going to end up in her lungs. Elio stared at Cal like he’d lost his mind. Lorcan, pretending not to notice the tension, laughed and held the fork up. I made a frantic grab for it and put it back on my plate.
Fern was breathing so harshly I wasn’t sure how she hadn’t passed out yet. I felt the blood drain from my face and my skin grew clammy. I reached for my wine glass with trembling fingers and took a large sip, keeping my eyes staunchly on the table in front of me.
“And exactly who did you have in mind, Cal?” Elio asked.
“It’s Callahan, actually,” Cal said, his words polite, his tone anything but. Elio turned to glare at me and I could read the accusations in his eyes. He thought that since Cal asked me to call him - well, Cal, that I was more familiar with him than I actually was. I hid behind another sip of wine so that I wouldn’t have to face him yet.
“Truthfully, I was thinking I’d prefer Rory instead. She does look just ravishing this evening,” Cal said, his eyes on me. Liquid spilled over the rim of my wine glass as I tried to put it back down and I immediately grabbed my napkin, trying to mop up the white table cloth, whispering a quick, “I’m sorry.”
I kept my eyes on the red stain, frantically dabbing at the pristine white table cloth, hoping against logic that the stain would suddenly disappear. Cal’s throat clearing grabbed my attention and when I glanced up, he smirked slightly and pushed Lorcan’s own wine glass over with one, very deliberate finger. My eyes popped wide, but the shock of his actions stopped my frantic cleaning attempts.
“Aurora is not a Marino,” Elio said angrily. “She is a Rossi.” He spit the name as if it were a curse. And despite the fact that he’d been treating me like a pariah for sixteen years, the words still hurt - a reminder that I was alone in the world, no family, only one friend and barely a handful of dreams for the future.
“But she’s been with you since she was barely one, right? She’s been your daughter since you married her mother. You said that this dinner was to properly meet our families. The Italian thing to do would’ve been to adopt her before her mother died. Quite sad, that. I’m sorry for your loss, mo solas.” The sincere condolences were the first I’d ever received and tears stung my eyes, my nose tingling.
I swallowed heavily, wringing my napkin between my hands. “Thank you,” I whispered, looking at the material twisted between my fingers. I twisted it more and more until it was impossible to twist any further, when a gentle pressure on the top of my foot made me look up at Cal. As soon as our eyes met, he spoke again.
“Yes, I think she would be a Marino by your customs. She’ll do just fine. Of course, I’ll not take an unwilling bride,” he said as he smiled gently in my direction. “Are you willing to fulfill the contract to complete the peace treaty?”
My eyes shot to my stepfamily and the pressure on my toes increased, immediately bringing my attention back to Cal. He raised an eyebrow and waited for my answer.
I stuttered for a response before saying too loudly, “I need to use the restroom. Excuse me!” I threw my napkin on the table and hightailed it to the restroom.
The door closed behind me and I collapsed against it, my heart pumping too fast and the breath in my lungs burning through my nostrils. I took slow, deep breaths and counted each one. When I reached twenty five, a light tap came from the other side of the door, vibrating the wood against my back.
