Broken and Beautiful

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Broken and Beautiful Page 77

by Ryan, Kendall


  “You should tell her sometime. She already knows, but it’s nice to hear when someone cares.” Daniel grunted a response, which was more than I’d expected. He was a locked vault when it came to sharing his feelings. “I’m going to help clean up.”

  He followed me, holding a black garbage bag while I disposed of empty paper plates and cups. We worked in silence, his focus often on Muriella, as if he were uncomfortable if she got out of his sight. Daniel was protective of her, overly so, despite the absence of any threat. It seemed a bit stifling, and though I didn’t know him well, I suspected he wouldn’t behave that way without reason. If it bothered Muriella, she didn’t show it.

  Muriella had a Cheshire cat smile when she joined us to clear the tables. “Vivian, why don’t you come over for dinner after this?”

  “Oh, I’d love to, but I’m stuffed.” I patted my stomach, which was filled with the best meal I’d had in weeks. Just thinking about more food made me want to pass out.

  “You’re already tired of Daniel, aren’t you?” She bit her lip to keep from grinning, and I discreetly held out my hand for a low five. When she slapped it, I felt like I had maybe passed the tests she’d put me through. If this kept up, Muriella and I were going to get along famously. Daniel scowled at me and my potential new partner in crime.

  “Let’s put it this way. If I joined you for supper, it wouldn’t be because of him.” His lips thinned, and he shot me a look of caution, which I promptly ignored. “Did he put you up to asking me out?”

  “I did not,” he said, not bothering to hide his irritation.

  Muriella snickered. “No. It was all me. Since you won’t do dinner, we’ll have lunch tomorrow.” This wasn’t a request. The tiny thing was bossing me around. I didn’t mind in the least. It was a chance to do some digging and perhaps make a new friend in the process.

  “Is he coming?” I cut my eyes over to Daniel, feigning disdain.

  “I am.”

  “He is not.”

  “Now that that’s settled, can we meet around noon, Muriella? I have to work, but we shouldn’t be too busy. Most everyone else is off until Monday.”

  “Sounds perfect. Text me the address of your office, and I’ll come to you. Without him.” She pointed at Daniel and narrowed her eyes.

  “I know where you work.” There was no bite to his warning.

  “You won’t interfere,” I told him.

  “Not unless I need to.”

  * * *

  “How much time do we have?” Muriella linked her arm through mine as soon as I met her in the lobby of the Hamerstein building.

  “Standard hour.” I made a face and pushed through the revolving door. We squeezed in the same slot together, earning a look from security standing nearby. “I could really use a liquid lunch.”

  “Maybe someday when you have the afternoon off.”

  “I don’t see that happening any time soon.” I hesitated and looked down the sidewalk in both directions. “Which way?”

  Muriella’s cheeks turned pink. “Straight ahead.” The familiar dark car was parked at the curb. “Hope you don’t mind, but I brought lunch.”

  My brows dipped, but a smile formed on my lips. “One less thing we have to decide.”

  I marched toward the car, and a driver stepped out. I cast a sideways look at Muriella, halfway expecting Daniel to be our chauffeur.

  “I told him no.” And that was all she said on the matter, as if reading my mind.

  The driver held open the back door, and we piled inside the warm interior. I rubbed both of my arms and shivered as I settled into the seat. “It feels like the beach in here.”

  “If it’s too hot—”

  “No. It’s perfect.” I put a hand on Muriella’s knee when she reached for the temperature control.

  “Anywhere in particular you’d like to go? The park isn’t too far,” she suggested.

  “Why don’t we picnic in here?”

  A broad smile lit her face. She leaned forward, and the driver turned around. “We need to be back here in fifty minutes, so anywhere you’d like to drive to accomplish that.”

  “I’ll take the scenic route,” the man returned, his expression stoic, though his tone was light.

  The partition between the front and back seats hummed as it rose. Muriella shifted a basket to the hump on the floorboard between us. I kicked off my shoes and turned to face her, tucking one leg up under me.

  “I’ve never been on a picnic,” I announced.

  She looked startled, but quickly recovered, removing containers from her basket. “Neither have I, in a car.” She opened the lid, the smell of fresh baked bread hitting my nostrils. “I hope you like roasted vegetable sandwiches.”

  “Beats the hell out of cereal.”

  Muriella paused and gave me a strange look before she began assembling the sandwiches. I marveled at how simple and beautiful she made it look.

  “Here you go.” She passed me a plate, and I set it in my lap.

  “Hope there’s plenty of napkins.” She rummaged in the bag and gave me a stack. “I won’t be held responsible for the mess I make.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “I didn’t think about how messy this would be.”

  I picked up the sandwich, and a drop of dark liquid landed on my plate. We looked at each other and burst into giggles.

  “Maybe a balsamic reduction wasn’t the best idea,” she muttered.

  I took a bite and shook my head. “Oh yes it was.” Had I ever eaten anything this good? Not lately, that was for damn sure.

  She blushed and hid her smile behind her own bite. Once she swallowed, she set her sandwich down and wiped her mouth. “So after the internship, will you stay in New York or head back to Texas?”

  “Someone would have to drag me back to Dallas kicking and screaming.” I popped a chip in my mouth. “These homemade?”

  She nodded before cocking her head to the side. “I thought people from Texas didn’t like to be anywhere else.”

  “That’s usually true, but I can’t go back.”

  Concern filled her eyes. “Are you in trouble?” she asked quietly.

  I grinned. “Always.” Her shoulders relaxed and she tucked a leg under her, mirroring my position. “Don’t tell me you’d already miss me if I was gone?”

  “I have a feeling I wouldn’t be the only one,” she said under her breath.

  “Do you and Daniel live together?” I hadn’t quite figured out their relationship yet. What the hell? Might as well find out what I could.

  “I’m in the apartment below his.”

  “Is that how y’all know each other?”

  A shadow crossed her face, and I regretted the question. “No.” Her eyes met mine. “He saved my life.”

  My brows shot to my hair line. I shoved another bite of sandwich into my mouth because I didn’t know what to say to that. A million questions zipped through my brain, but I didn’t give voice to any of them. Muriella would tell me what she wanted me to know in her own time.

  “My father won’t speak to me,” I finally said after eating in silence for a few minutes. “That’s one reason I won’t go back.”

  “That’s not always a bad thing.”

  The woman constantly said the unexpected. Where I came from, I was expected to do what my parents wanted with a smile on my face. Damn sure wasn’t supposed to make a stink about it. But I wasn’t going to apologize when it was my daddy who was in the wrong.

  “You ever been married?” I asked, changing the subject.

  Her posture went rigid, and her hands froze halfway to her mouth. “No,” she said softly. Sadness flashed in her eyes.

  “Me neither.” I cocked my head to the side. “Would your parents ever try to force you into a marriage you didn’t want?”

  “My father absolutely would.”

  Damn. She’d gotten me again with her answers. I shrugged. “Then maybe I overreacted when mine did,” I muttered.

  “You should never, ever, let anyo
ne else control your life,” she said with a vehemence that told me I was getting into tricky territory.

  I set aside my empty plate and edged closer to her. It was time for a little girl talk. “Now tell me everything I need to know about Daniel.”

  She laughed, and though I liked that it felt like I could talk to Muriella about anything, I was glad to be back on safer ground.

  “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

  I threw my hands up. “That was a big help.”

  Her smile broadened. “How about chocolate chip cookies? Would those help?”

  I clutched my chest. “M, you really know how to get to a girl.” I fluttered my lashes and she swatted at my knee. “I mean it. You wooed me on the first date.”

  “Did I say I had cookies? This cold weather must be getting to me,” she said innocently.

  “Hand over the goods, sister.” I held out my hand, and she passed me a cookie. “They’re still warm,” I said in awe.

  She gave me a smug look. “You’re really impressed now.”

  “No doubt.” I grabbed her hand and examined her fingers before I held up mine. “Nice nail polish.”

  “Should I be afraid that we think alike?” She mock-shuddered, and I swiped a piece of her cookie. “Hey!”

  I broke off some of my own and gave it to her. “So when are we doing this again?”

  “Tomorrow works for me.”

  * * *

  On December fourteenth, a Friday after work, Daniel was waiting for me outside the office, already shrugging out of his cashmere coat when I pushed out into the falling snow. I accepted it with only a little protest, all for effect. I loved the way he smelled, and every time that coat was wrapped around me, it was a gift I wasn’t going to reject. Before we started for the subway station, I changed into my ballet shoes, which were horrible on the wet sidewalks. It was the next step in our routine when he met me after work. Daniel still held his breath every time I leaned on him for balance. I hadn’t decided which part I liked better—being surrounded by his scent or taking his breath away.

  “I’d rather Muriella were here, but I guess you’ll do. At least you’re good for a coat,” I said, tucking my hand in the crook of his arm to keep it warm.

  “I’m glad to know I’m useful for something,” he muttered dryly. He hadn’t mentioned my lack of a jacket again, which I appreciated. I’d been saving for one, but my money didn’t go very far. “Muriella would be pleased to hear you prefer her company to mine, but I suspect she probably already knows.”

  “You sound jealous, Mr. Elliott.”

  “Please and jealous. Two words I don’t do.” We descended the stairs into the subway at a leisurely pace, oblivious to the people flowing around us on both sides.

  “You’ve broadened your vocabulary to include please,” I corrected him. He cast a side-eye, and I flashed him a mischievous grin as I broke free to pass through the turnstile, today without protest from the machine. He offered his arm to me once we were clear, and I took it as we fell back in step together. “How many compliments did I get this week?”

  “For what?” he asked warily.

  “Your improved courting skills. I bet the women you’ve taken out are impressed.”

  “None.”

  I stopped walking, earning a few curses from people behind me, and put my hands on my hips. “You’re kidding. I thought we were making baby steps toward improving your lady skills.”

  “I’m not trying to improve my—how did you put it?—‘lady skills.’” He began to walk again. I didn’t follow him immediately, waiting for him to notice I wasn’t beside him. It didn’t take long. He turned his head, gave me a look to get my ass in gear, to which I rolled my eyes and shook my head. He mouthed, Please, eyes glittering, and I closed the gap between us.

  “See how easy it is to get what you want?”

  It was his turn to roll his eyes. “At the risk of inflating your already large ego, you are the only person I will ever utter that word to.” Something inside of me puffed up, and I bit my lip so I didn’t let my grin show.

  “A wise choice, sir,” I returned, pulling him along so we’d make my train.

  It was standing room only, so I grasped a loop hanging from the metal bar, wobbling when the car started to move. Daniel put his arm around my waist to steady me. It was a reflex. His natural instinct was to protect me. “I don’t need you.”

  “I’m well aware of that fact.” There was a lightness in his tone I liked. It had been nearly two months since the charity event, and he kept trying, hadn’t given up on me. Something was changing between us. He proved day by day that he wasn’t above earning my time instead of expecting it.

  “Why are you riding the subway when you could be chauffeured around the city?”

  “Because you’re on the subway, and glutton for punishment that I am, I find I enjoy your company.”

  “Of course you do,” I said as if he’d stated the obvious. Inside, however, everything started to tingle. He snorted and discreetly pulled me closer. As if he were commanding the train, it came to an abrupt stop, and I stumbled, bumping into his muscular frame. People moved around us, but we just stood there, staring at one another.

  “Are you going to cut me some slack?” he asked.

  “What do you think?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Probably right.” I furrowed my brow. “For what exactly am I supposed to cut you slack?”

  “What I’m about to say.” He radiated confidence, his mesmerizing eyes drawing me in, and I saw something in them I never expected, something I imagined was rare. Excitement.

  “I’m listening.”

  “You were right.”

  “So far so good.”

  “Don’t you want to know what about?”

  I leaned closer. “Absolutely, but I’m not going to beg.” Our eyes battled, and I felt he could see through me all the way to my innermost core.

  He let that opening slide. “A woman worth spending time with doesn’t fall at your feet right away. She demands attention but doesn’t need it. Makes you earn her respect and in turn earns yours.” My heart pounded in my ears as he spoke. “It’s wanting to know the little things about her—that she tucks her hair behind her ear when I say something she likes, and one side of her mouth turns down when I say something she doesn’t. That she gives not for what she will receive, but simply because it’s the desire of her heart to do for others.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He got me. Understood exactly what I wanted and was giving it to me. I held my breath as he continued.

  “It’s knowing how much she loves her old ballet slippers, and how much sweeter that will make it when I finally take them off.” He paused, and I dug my nails into my palms at the implication.

  “Knowing she’s determined and stubborn and won’t do anything she doesn’t want to, it’ll mean so much more when she says yes. It will be an affirmation that she finds me worthy.” He tugged me closer, erasing what little distance was left between us. “I never gave a damn about any of this with anyone before. But with you, Vivian, every time I find out something new about you, I want to know more.” I looked up at him silently, afraid to say anything that might break the spell he’d cast over the space we occupied. “I’d like to spend the day with you tomorrow. The entire day, with no expectations beyond the pleasure of your company and seeing how many times I can get you to do this.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and my heart skipped a beat…or twelve. “Please.”

  I fixed a smug look on my face to hide the fact that I was spinning. “You almost blew it, Princess.” I dug my index finger into his chest. “You saved yourself at the last second.”

  “So is that a yes?”

  “That is a yes.”

  13

  Daniel

  Present

  “It’s been a long time.”

  I cringed inwardly at the voice I’d never forget no matter how much time elapsed.

&nbs
p; “Not long enough,” I said, full well meaning it.

  Cold laughter echoed through the warehouse. “You look just like your old man.” There were few things he could say that were more insulting. “Must have gotten your smarts from your mother.”

  “What do you want, Angelone?” I widened my stance as he made a broad circle, looking around into the dark shadows.

  “Interesting choice of meeting place,” he commented when he stopped. The look he gave me was pointed. He knew why I’d bought the warehouse, understood my need for power over the past.

  “Figured you were familiar with it.”

  His lip curled up. “We’re on your turf now, huh?” I was still a scared shitless kid in his eyes and he the big, bad don. He was wrong. I wasn’t even close to the same boy that had stood before him all those years ago.

  “Get to the point,” I prompted, itching to do something as he paced.

  “Don’t believe I’m here to catch up with my property?”

  “I belong to no one,” I grated out, the familiar flicker of my temper igniting.

  Angelone tapped his index finger to his lips. Time had been kind to him. He hadn’t aged all that much from the last time I’d seen him nearly thirty years ago. The air of authority still swirled around him. Only this time, I wasn’t afraid of anything he could do to me.

  “Hmm. I believe you do, Elliott. You traded one life of servitude with me for another with Salvatore. That motherfucker has you by the balls.”

  I clenched my fists at my sides, which only made Angelone grin.

  “And if it isn’t Salvatore, then that pretty little girl—what’s her name? Ah, Vivian. It’s Vivian, isn’t it?” I took a step forward, and his smile only broadened. He was goading me. I knew it. Yet it took every bit of my restraint not to tackle the fucker. “She is a lovely piece,” he mused.

  I wanted to bash his skull on the concrete floor until he never had another thought about her again. Instead, I ground my teeth and waited impatiently for him to get to the fucking point.

  “You owe me.”

 

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