For several beats of my heart, I think I’m dead, I think he knows and he’s going to cut my throat and I probably deserve it, but then he’s smiling and shaking my hand with a firm grip.
“You work at the club. He didn’t tell me you worked at the club. That’s how I know you.” I relax and release a held breath. Right, he’s seen me around the club before, so that’s how he’s rationalizing everything. Hopefully, he doesn’t notice my tension, and if he does, I hope he chalks it up to normal social anxiety.
“Apparently, he’s embarrassed of me,” I say and look at Calvino like he’s the center of my whole world.
“He has nothing to be embarrassed of,” Vince says and turns to introduce me to his wife.
She’s tall and thin with blonde hair and big blue eyes. She’s almost willowy, but she has a kind smile, and she gestures for me to sit on her side of the booth. I climb in and the boys get themselves settled, already talking about what they’ll eat and drink as Charlie leans closer to me.
“I have to admit, I’m surprised to meet you,” she says, her eyes sparkling. “But it’s a good surprise.”
“Why’s that?”
“Calvino never brings girls around. And I’m not exaggerating when I say that, I mean literally, never. You’re the first I’ve ever met, although I’ve heard whispers of others. I always assumed Calvino treated women like new suits: fun for a while, but eventually they don’t fit perfectly anymore.”
“I’m not sure how I should feel about that if I’m honest.”
“Well, you should feel both proud and a little nervous, but you know how Calvino can be, kind of an asshole.” She laughs and puts her hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, I totally get what you mean. I think ‘asshole’ is an accurate description and about as kind as he deserves.”
She laughs harder and nudges against me. “I like you already.”
I grin at her as Vince orders a bottle of wine and the night begins in earnest.
Any hint of discomfort Calvino might’ve felt in the car is completely gone. He seems at ease as he talks about the food and the alcohol, and since he owns the damn place, the chef himself comes out to go over the menu. I chat with Charlie about the Manzini family, about Vince and Calvino, but also about his other siblings. It’s easy and comfortable, and I find myself genuinely liking her.
“They’re sweet girls,” Charlie says about Rella and Susi. “Young and a little spoiled, but they’ve been really welcoming. Damon can be tough, like Vince and Calvino, but Jason’s much more…” She trails off, waving a hand in the air.
“Normal?”
She laughs, nodding. “Normal. Nice. Gentle. Almost like a regular human.”
“And not like a grumpy murder robot.”
“Exactly, but you can’t always choose what you want. Unfortunately, I seem to be attracted to the grump.”
“You and me both.” We touch wine glasses together and drink, and I catch Calvino smiling at me out of the corner of my eye.
Food comes and Vince tells a story about him and Calvino stealing a car when they were just kids one time and how their father had to use his connections to get them out of jail. Calvino tells a story about Vince breaking into the high school bully’s house and setting the kid’s underwear on fire. All their stories from their childhood involve either crime, violence, alcohol, or some combination of the three. Charlie looks adoringly at her husband, and I try to mirror that look when I gaze across the table at Calvino.
I find that it’s not too difficult: despite being an asshole, he’s extremely nice to look at.
I excuse myself once the meal’s winding down and head toward the unisex bathrooms. As I’m about to step inside, a hand grabs my hip and another presses over my mouth, and I release a soft, shocked scream as panic slams into my skull—Vince following me, maybe he knows, maybe he’s going to hurt me for what I did to him—and someone shoves me forward as the door slams shut and the light snaps on.
I whirl around about to scream and punch someone right in the freaking throat—and find Calvino grinning at me.
“What the hell are you doing?” I hiss at him and try to slap his chest, but he catches my wrist, shoves me back against the wall, and buries his mouth against mine.
I gasp into that kiss and struggle, but his body pins me and he’s not letting me go. I kiss him back then bite his bottom lip hard enough to make him grunt with pain as his grip on my wrist loosens.
“What. Are. You. Doing?” I glare at him, his eyes inches from mine. I think I can taste his blood on my tongue.