Andino + Haven: The Complete Duet
Page 39
Yes, that was a good way to put it.
Why the fuck not?
“And you like her, then?” his mother asked.
Oh, great. We’re back to that again.
“Ginevra is … pleasant,” Andino replied.
He knew that was the wrong choice of words the moment they slipped past his lips, but there was nothing he could do now. They were out there, and his mother heard them. Which meant she also heard the fact he didn’t actually compliment his wife-to-be, or offer anything that might show he held some kind of affection.
Kim was not going to miss that.
At all.
“I see,” his mother murmured.
Gio sighed heavily and said, “It’ll take time, I think, to get past the … uncomfortable part of this whole arrangement.”
“You mean the fact she’s been told to marry me, and doesn’t want to?”
Kim frowned.
Gio, on the other hand, nodded. “Yes, that.”
“She does seem like …”
“What?” his mother asked.
“Nice, Ma. She seems nice.”
Which wasn’t a lie.
Ginevra had been sweet, and entirely pleasant during their breakfast. She hadn’t talked out of turn even once, and she was nothing less than respectful to him. Andino assumed—and probably rightfully so—that it was more because of her brothers than because she actually cared to be nice, but that was another issue for a different day.
He had to handle shit one thing at a time.
The ringing of a phone in another room sent Andino’s father off the stool at the island. He was gone from the kitchen without a look back, leaving Andino alone with his far too curious mother, and all her questions.
God, he loved his ma.
He did.
Andino also didn’t want to hurt her by refusing to answer her questions, or even telling her the sad truth. It seemed like his mother wasn’t really going to give him a choice, though.
“Well,” Kim said, “then what can you tell me about her, Andi? You wouldn’t even let me go to meet her, and who knows when I will? Give me something to go on here. I want to … like her.”
Of course, she did.
Because Kim was wonderful.
Andino scrubbed a hand down his jaw, and used the moment he had to decide what he needed to do. He decided to give his mother what she wanted, but not about who she thought he was describing.
“She’s independent in the ways she can be,” Andino said, smiling. “And strong, I think, all things considered.”
Kim’s familiar gaze lit up. “Oh?”
“I appreciate that in a woman. One that can probably give my shit back to me as much as I throw it at her.”
“She will certainly have to be able to handle you.”
“I think she can,” he returned. “She’s smart, and quick. Capable of handling her own business, it seems. And she’s beautiful. In the obvious ways, but in her own unique way, too.”
“Hmm.”
A small hint of a smile played at the edges of his mother’s mouth. She had no idea that the woman he just described was one he had been in love with for months—one he fell in love with simply because she was who she was—and yet, couldn’t have.
Kim didn’t know Andino meant Haven. He wished he could tell her the truth.
“Snaps loves her,” Andino added quieter.
His mother’s gaze jumped up to meet his. “Snaps was there?”
“Outside.”
Kim nodded. “That’s a start, Andino. I know that this wasn’t what you wanted … you had different plans for your life, but this could be good, too.”
Oh, he doubted that.
Andino only smiled.
Thankfully, the beep of his phone allowed him to take his attention away from his mother without seeming rude. Or like he was trying to find a way out of the conversation. He turned his back on Kim, and checked the message. He hoped it was Haven, but like the stubborn woman she was … well, she hadn’t once called or messaged him since he left her house a few mornings ago.
No surprise there.
Andino was giving her time.
Instead of Haven, it was a text from Pink. The enforcer keeping an eye on Siena Calabrese, and reporting back when something interesting came up. Andino was still trying to figure out what to do with that woman, after all, and how to get her safely back to his cousin.
Where she deserved to be.
Siena took up yoga—same time every week on Wednesdays and Fridays.
Andino looked over Pink’s message again, and nodded to himself. Good, the girl did know how to listen, and follow directions.
That spelled good things for her.
Instead of replying to Pink, Andino sent off a message to John’s father instead. A simple, I think I might go visit John.
Lucian would know what it meant.
“Yoga seemed like a good fit for you,” Andino said as the woman of the hour stepped out of the changing rooms with her gaze turned to the floor. It was the sound of his voice that finally made Siena Calabrese take note of her surroundings, and who was near. Her eyes widened when they landed on him leaning against the wall. He gave her a quick smile, and when she glanced down the corridor with visible fear, he said, “Your enforcer is still outside like the dumb fuck he is.”
Siena relaxed a bit, but not much. It had been a good while since Andino had seen this woman, and the last time … well, it was when her fucking brothers dragged her away from John’s house that awful night.
She looked better.
And yet, she still looked sad.
Not surprising.
Andino was hoping he could make things better for this woman, and maybe … she could help him out, too. A tit for tat, kind of thing, if everything went well.
“Your yoga class starts in what, ten minutes?” he asked.
“About that, yeah.”
“How long is it?”
“Hour and a half, sometimes a little less.”
“Does the enforcer come in to watch, or check on you?”
Siena shook her head. “He hasn’t so far.”
“Good.” Andino pushed away from the wall, and gave her a second look. “Do you want to change back into your other clothes, or are you good with the yoga pants and tank top?”
She only blinked. “What?”
“We’ve got places to go, and people to see. Do you want to change, or are you good?”
That fear in her eyes was back in a blink.
“I shouldn’t leave,” Siena whispered.
Andino arched a brow. “Not even to see John?”
That had her perking back up again.
He smiled.
“See, I thought if I could get you away from your brothers for more than five minutes at a time, we might be able to work on this whole mess we’re in now,” Andino explained. “Yoga seemed like a good fit for you, all things considered. You listened, and so here we are. It’s a risk—you going with me, I mean—but is it one you’re willing to take?”
Siena’s hands tightened into fists at her side. “For John, yes.”
Of course.
Love was crazy like that.
Or so Andino was learning.
“I have to be careful,” Siena was quick to say.
Andino gave her a look. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
“No, but—”
“Good, then let’s go.”
Siena didn’t move. “My brothers aren’t stupid either, Andino. And they’re not playing games anymore. Do you know they killed Ginevra’s mother when she tried to step in and help her daughter when it came to the marriage to you?”
Andino stiffened.
Siena barked out a laugh. “I guess you didn’t know that, huh?”
“No, but that explains a lot,” he replied.
“Like what?”
“Why she seemed so scared when she had to meet me.”
Siena glanced away from him. “She—and her sisters—are
good girls. They’ve never really been involved in the mafia like the rest of us. My point is … well, you get the point, don’t you?”
“You have to be careful,” he said. “Yeah, I get it.”
“Good.” Siena frowned, and that sadness came back into her eyes even as she tried to hide it by looking away. “They’re never going to let me be with him now. Not after everything … and now, with our families working together. Well, what’s the point, Andino?”
He made a noncommittal noise. “The point, is that you never give up. Not until someone puts you in the ground, and at least then, you know the rest was worth it because you did all you could. Don’t you remember what I told you that night when your brothers showed up and took you away?”
Siena nodded. “Yeah.”
“What was it?”
“This isn’t forever.”
Damn right.
“Keep that in mind.” Andino waved a hand at the exit door down the corridor that led outside the building instead of to the yoga class. “Care to surprise John with me? I think he could use a smile. If so, let’s go. We’re running out of daylight.”
Siena didn’t need to be told again.
TEN
How was it even May?
Haven blinked at the calendar on her phone for a third time even though the date still hadn’t changed. It seemed like the entire month of April passed her by without any sort of warning, and here she was, in a whole new month.
“So, yes, another inspection,” the realtor said.
She finally looked away from her phone at that to give the man her attention. It was him mentioning the date that had put her in this goddamn daze in the first place. She simply meant to check her phone to see how long it had been since she started this process for the buyer who offered her well above the asking price for the club, and instead, got lost in wondering how an entire month passed her by.
“Another one?”
“The buyer assures this will be the last one. You should get a call sometime this week to set up an appoint—”
Haven made a frustrated noise, and tossed her phone to the bar. “Yes, an appointment that will take weeks to actually show up, and get done. It’ll be into June before that actually happens. You said I would have this place sold by now.”
The realtor shrugged, and his face remained passive. “You very well might have sold it by now, but you chose what I would call an investor instead of a passionate buyer. They do their homework, and they don’t mind dragging out the process. We can still go back to the original offers—one was willing to wait, if you changed your mind.”
The thought was appealing. Maybe a bit too much, really. Haven was absolutely willing to take the cut in money if it meant she could get out of New York quicker, and down to Florida where her mother was still sick, and in need of help. At the same time, the idea made her feel selfish as hell.
Her mother was still sick. Her parents still needed help. Financial help, even if they weren’t openly telling her that. Shit, Haven had seen all the medical bills from the first round of cancer years ago, and how it crushed her parents under its substantial weight.
They couldn’t afford for her to take the drop in price.
“What would you like me to do?” the man asked.
Haven didn’t answer him right away, instead taking a moment to glance away, so he couldn’t see her face while she gathered her thoughts. She took in the empty club’s floor, and all the tables and chairs that were waiting to be filled for the night. She had another two hours before the club would open, but she thought coming in early might help to take her mind off things if she stayed busy.
A fleeting hope, apparently.
Her mind was still as chaotic and confused as it ever was, now. That seemed to be her one constant. The thing she couldn’t escape from no matter how hard she tried.
She had to keep busy—or try, even if it was a failed effort—because if she didn’t, then she focused on all the things that weren’t happening in her life. Like Andino, and his missing presence over the last month.
He didn’t call, but he did send a text once in a while. He never showed up at her club, or house.
He had sent her one vase of flowers on her birthday with another one of his notes attached in the middle of April, but other than that … radio silence. She was being smart, and taking that for what it was.
This thing between them was dying.
Or … it was already dead.
Haven wasn’t really sure which one applied, but nonetheless, it was happening. His distance, even if he occasionally did reach out, made her think that perhaps he knew the truth, too. Especially if she wasn’t engaging him.
Not that she didn’t want to.
Christ.
Haven wanted Andino more than anything, but she also didn’t want to be hurt over and over again. Too much had happened between them for her to just … forget it all. Whether or not he understood that was a whole other matter.
“Well?” the realtor asked again. “What would you like me to do?”
It almost amused Haven how all she needed to do was get Andino on the brain, and suddenly, nothing else mattered. Work and life flew away because he took up all the space in her mind and heart, and left no room for anything else.
Why did it have to be like this?
“Try,” Haven said pointedly as she turned her gaze back on the man sitting at her bar, “to get the buyer to speed things along. I don’t want to go back to another offer if I don’t have to. So yeah, try to get him—or her—to speed things up.”
“I can try, but the buyer’s lawyer is a goddamn pit bull. He’s stuck in what he wants, and he doesn’t budge very much.”
Yes, so she was learning.
Haven was starting to get curious about the mysterious investor behind the company name on the paperwork sitting on the bar. She hadn’t thought to look in to it before—there really wasn’t a need. A part of her wondered what she might find if she did. Was this their normal standard when it came to buying a business? Fuck someone around until they were at their wits end?
Another day.
Now was not the time.
“Just try,” Haven said. “As the saying goes, closed mouths don’t get fed.”
The realtor pushed off the stool with a nod. “I will try.”
That was the best she could ask for.
As the realtor made his way out of the club, Haven seriously considered cracking open one of her top-shelf whiskeys just to take a couple of shots to ease her edginess. It wasn’t like she needed to be in a mood once her workers started filtering in for their shift.
It was only the ringing of Haven’s phone that stopped her from moving behind the bar. She picked up the phone from where she’d tossed it away earlier, and didn’t bother to check the caller ID before answering.
“Haven here.”
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Haven wished she could say that at the sound of her father’s voice, all of her stress fled as fast as it had come. She couldn’t, though. Now, every single time her father called, she found herself on edge thinking that something might have happened to her mom.
It was constant.
It sucked.
“Hey, Dad,” Haven said, keeping her tone cheerful.
Or as much as she could manage.
“How’s Mom?”
“Good,” Neil said. “She had a good day. The treatment wasn’t easy today, but she didn’t get as sick afterward. And she wanted ice cream.”
Haven smiled.
That was good.
Usually, chemo left her mother unwilling to eat entirely. Sometimes, for days after. Sure, the doctors had her on meds that should increase her appetite, but Haven thought it was also a mental thing. No one could have much of a desire to shove food into their mouths when they knew the only thing that was going to happen soon after was the food coming back out … and not very pleasantly.
“That’s great,” Haven said. “Is she around? Let me talk
to her.”
“She’s sleeping right now,” her father said.
Damn.
“Well, don’t wake her up. Let her rest.”
God knew her mother needed it.
“How’s things that way?” Neil asked. “The club doing well?”
“Of course. The realtor was just here. We were going over—”
Her father made a harsh sound on the other end of the line. Fuck. Haven shouldn’t even have brought the realtor up, really. She knew better.
“I wish you wouldn’t sell the club,” her father said quietly. “You worked so hard to save that place after everything, and you shouldn’t just give it up. You know your mother and I will be fine—we want you to live your life, Haven. This is your life.”
“And you’re a part of that,” Haven returned easily. This was the same conversation they had been having for months. Nothing about it had changed. Her parents wanted one thing, but she knew that she had to do another. It was as simple as that. “You and Mom are a big part of my life, and every reason why I took over this club to begin with. And now, things have changed again. I should be where I can be most useful to you and her, but I don’t think that’s here, Dad.”
“You should be happy.”
Haven blinked.
She didn’t know how to tell her father the truth but … she hadn’t been happy for a long time. Sure, her mother’s cancer coming back hadn’t helped with that, but it was mostly everything else going on in her personal life that kept her down.
Her father didn’t need to know that.
“Mae doesn’t want you to sell the club, and uproot your entire life just because she’s sick, Haven,” Neil said, refusing to let this go. “She also wants you to keep living your life. It is not your job to take care of us—we can do that. We have been doing it just fine ever since we left New York.”
But wasn’t that exactly her job?
“Could we talk about this another day?” Haven asked.
When her father wouldn’t let something go, then deflecting onto something else was Haven’s next best defense. She was sure her father knew that she was doing exactly that, but he wasn’t likely to call her out on it.
“For the record,” her father said, “my opinion on this isn’t going to change just because it’s a new day, sweetheart. Neither will your mother’s opinion. It’s more stressful on Mae to think that you’re giving up things you love for no other reason than you think she’s dying. Do you understand that?”