I know that she’s uncomfortable with Dante’s generosity in giving us all a place to stay. Frankly, I wasn’t exactly one hundred percent on board with allowing him to cover my rent either but the alternative was moving home or having my parents pay for a place and honestly, living here rent free would come with fewer strings attached than taking a handout from them. Besides, I really wanted to live with Bianca and Hollie.
“How many times have I asked you to call me Dante, Hollie?” He places his fork back down to the table and leans onto his forearms, his expression one of determination. I haven’t spent a lot of time with Dante Moreno over the past few years but it’s enough to recognize the fact that you’re better off arguing with a brick wall than with him over this. “Bianca wouldn’t be paying me any rent so what difference does it make if it’s just her staying here or the three of you? Besides, you’re actually doing me a favor, Hollie. Without you and Violet, Bianca would be living here all alone, and I want to make sure that she’s safe. Sure, I’m only a few blocks away but that’s not the same as having more than one person in the house. It just makes sense for the three of you to stay here together.”
Hollie seems slightly appeased but still skeptical of this explanation. However, her practical side soon wins out and she flashes him a smile. “Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?”
“You really can’t.” He laughs. The conversation glides easily into less tense topics as I sip on my wine, enjoying the quiet evening with my friends and the man I’ve been secretly crushing on for two years. Hollie and Bianca are discussing one of Bianca’s latest pieces for her advanced painting class when Dante draws my attention back to him. Doesn’t he realize I’ve been trying to avoid him as much as possible? Every time I look at him, I’m sure he can see my feelings written all over my face.
“So, isCount of Monte Cristoyour favorite book? You said you’ve read it three times.”
“It’s an amazing book and I love it but no, it’s not my favorite.” I take another sip from my glass, hoping to distract myself from his steady gaze.
“Let me guess, all you English Lit majors are the same, your favorite must bePride and Prejudice.”
A giggle bursts forth from my lips. “Why Mr. Moreno, are you stereotyping? I thought you were above such things.” I raise my eyebrow up at him in a silent challenge.
He lets out a laugh. “You’re absolutely right Miss Daniels, please forgive me.”
“I guess I can’t be too hard on you because you were close. My favorite isn’tPride and Prejudicebut it is an Austen novel,Persuasion.”
“I’ve never read it. I’ll have to check it out.”
“Sure,” I say, barely suppressing an eye roll. I don’t think there’s any way in hell Dante Moreno, mans-man, is going to pick up and read a Jane Austen deep cut in his free time. “I’m not really surprised. It’s not her most popular novel, obviously, but I think it might be her most romantic.”
“Are you trying to tell me you’re a romantic, Violet?” he asks teasingly. I’d love to admit that I’m a romantic at heart but I don’t think with my parents’ beliefs that I’m going to end up with the epic love story of my dreams.
“I’m not sure that’s in the cards for me,” I say, shrugging off his question.
“You’re too young, you can’t be this cynical already.”
“My parents aren’t exactly the type to let me have some kind of grand, romantic love affair. If my mother has her way, I’ll be married off to one of their friends the day I graduate.” He jerks his head back slightly, obviously surprised by my response. Neither Bianca nor Hollie are paying us any mind so I try to steer our conversation to topics that are safer than my parents’ expectations. “So, tell me, what advice would you give a young cynic with all this time ahead of her?”
“Wait and hope.”
Wait and hope? Did he just . . .
“‘All human wisdom is contained in these two words: Wait and Hope.’ Did you just quoteThe Count of Monte Cristoto me?” I can’t help but grin at him. How does he remember that line?
“I told you it was one of my favorites. Just wait and hope, Violet. Things will work themselves out for the best.” He shoots me a smile that riles up those butterflies again and leaves me desperately wanting to believe that he’s right.
Three months ago . . .
I really hate this dress. It’s like my mother sees something that she knows will be uncomfortable and automatically buys it to torture me. Normally I would just thank her for the dress and relegate it to the back of my closet, but I couldn’t do that today since she’s actually deigned to grace us with her presence. I should have just told her that the draped silk fabric was too heavy for an outdoor summer party but most of the time, it’s easier to just do what she says than to argue with her. I tug at the high neckline again, trying to will some air circulation to run through this silver monstrosity.
I glance around the crowded backyard trying to spot someone to speak to while simultaneously avoiding my parents. I never would have invited them to this graduation party but Dante insisted we include all of our parents as well as any friends we wanted to invite. Hollie’s mom isn’t here and, in unkind moments, I wish my mother had stayed away as well.
My eyes inadvertently land on Dante as he stands chatting in a group of people that includes his ex-wife Amanda, and Bianca’s boss from the gallery. It’s a little unnerving to find his eyes already focused on me. It feels like every time I’ve caught sight of him today, he’s been looking at me and it’s making me feel self-conscious. I know the dress isn’t great, but I didn’t think it wasthatbad. I hope he thinks it’s the warm weather that’s causing my cheeks to flush and not his attention.
Before I can look away, he lifts his beer to me in a small toast and I raise the cup in my hand back at him before continuing my hunt for my friends.
“Violet, stop slouching it makes you look like a slob.” I close my eyes for just a moment, steeling myself for the coming confrontation. I turn and open my eyes, facing the storm to come.
“Hello, Mother, I’m happy you could make it.” I shouldn’t be surprised that she’s standing in front of me in a short cocktail dress wholly inappropriate for the setting, but somehow, I still am. She has one hand looped through the arm of my father who’s dressed in a black bespoke suit and has his gaze glued to the phone in his hand. Her other arm is clutching her signature martini glass. I don’t even know where she got that thing. The only drinks you can get here are in beer bottles or plastic cups. Could she have actually brought that with her?
Instead of responding to my greeting she continues on as if I haven’t said a word, which is par for the course with her. “And couldn’t you have made some kind of effort with your hair? Thank God I got you that dress or who knows what you would have shown up in. Frankly, I don’t even know what we’re doing here. Why have a graduation party when you’re still going to school?”
I force myself not to sigh audibly. We’ve gone over this so many times. “I’m going to graduate school for my Master’s, Mother. It’s not the same thing.”
“I just don’t understand why you won’t meet some of the perfectly acceptable young men I have lined up for you. You really should be concentrating on getting married and not wasting more of your time holed up with dusty books. All that reading is going to give you crow’s feet and then you’ll need Botox before you’re thirty!”