“No! I was organizing my closet.” I couldn’t look Max in the eye.
“For two days? Girl, please, everyone knows you didn’t get on any of the vans on Sunday. So what happened?” He smirked as if he had just uncovered the secret to life.
The gossip mill was already churning so I thought I might as well tell him. I had to confide in someone. “We…hung out.”
“You fucked him, didn’t you?”
I could feel my cheeks burning. “Um…well. Yes.”
Max let out a whoop and I grabbed his hands, pulling him in to shoosh him. “Be quiet, Max.”
He leaned back in his chair, satisfied that he got it out of me. “So how was it? Is he hung like a horse? I bet he’s a good kisser. Is he? Tell me everything.”
I downed the rest of my martini and signaled to the bartender for another. “Whoa, relax. I don’t even have a good buzz yet.”
He gave me a look, arching his eyebrow and tapping his fingers impatiently against the marble surface of the bar. “Spill the tea, Raven.”
I cleared my throat as if that were supposed to help the words come out any easier and with less embarrassment. I wasn’t a prude, but I had never had sex like that before in my life. Sex that would make any woman blush.
“It was amazing. Perfect,” I stated as Max threw me another ‘oh, you gotta do better than that’ look. “Okay it was fucking hot. He was good at everything. I’ve never been touched like that before.”
Max’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “Oh, we are going to need a round of shots. Damn, girl, I’m kind of jealous of your Italian sex fest now.”
I giggled. It was definitely worthy of envy. I left out the part about him tying me up and how big his dick was. I had to save some secrets for myself. “You should be. It was epic,” I teased.
Three martinis and two rounds of sambuca shots later, my head was spinning. “Let’s get some air. Wanna walk through Central Park? I still haven’t seen it at night.”
Max nearly choked on his last martini olive. “Are you for real? Do you wanna get mugged?”
I laughed so loud, I snorted. “Max, it’s barely 8 PM. I think we’ll be fine.”
Max shook his head. “No, I have a better idea. Let’s go check out the new speakeasy in Grammercy. I heard they are having a burlesque show tonight.”
I groaned and reached for my purse. “You know how long that line is going to be. I hate lines.”
Max hopped up off the bar stool and twirled me around. “Good thing I know the door guy. He already put us on the list.”
“Okay, stop spinning me or I’m going to puke all over you. Fine. Since it’s clear you pre meditated this, how can I refuse?” I was definitely feeling this buzz. Why not keep it going?
The brisk walk and fresh air did wonders for the dizziness. Six blocks later, we waltzed up to the front door of Cherry Juice and just as Max claimed, we were on the list and let in immediately. It was a good thing he had pull because the line was wrapped around the block.
Inside, the music pulsed against the melodic voice of a scantily clad singer. Her ruby red hair was pinned in curls to her head like something out of a French Noir film. She wore a colorful beaded bustier and a short poufy skirt. Short enough that it revealed her black lace garters and thigh highs. Six inch black stiletto pumps with red soles completed the look—a shade of red that matched her lips.
“Wow, this place is awesome,” I yelled over the music.
Max grinned wide. “Right? I told you. You know I’d never take you anywhere less than fabulous.”
We slinked our way through the crowd to get to the bar and ordered two old fashions. The chiseled bartender, wearing only black pants and a bow tie—no shirt—hand crafted the drinks in front of us using blood oranges, Italian cherries, and dry ice to give the drinks a smoke effect. They tasted as delicious as they looked.
Max and I squeezed into a corner booth near the stage to get a better view of the show. I was mesmerized by the singer in front of us. The sway of her hips seemed to match the rasp in her voice as if she lived on a diet of whiskey and cigarettes. And it was sexy. The only type of entertainment in Maplewood was either karaoke nights at the Rusty Nail, or the sad pathetic cries, falsely advertised as love songs, from Miller Wyatt, busking in the town square.
As Max murmured in my ear about having to use the bathroom, I spotted a familiar blonde, making her way over to our table. As soon as Max wandered off, she approached.
“Raven is it? So lovely to see you again. We met at Ozi’s party a few nights ago.” Camille. The mystery woman who got under Ozi’s skin and disappeared shortly after he pulled her aside to discuss “business.”
“Yes, I remember. Nice to see you again too.”
Her skin was flawless, suggesting she was around my age, but the layers of emotion in her eyes reflected someone older. It was impossible to tell.
“May I join you?” Camille asked.
“Well, actually my friend will be right back.”
The way she slithered into the booth ignoring my response let me know that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
I scooted over so that I could face her directly instead of being nestled against her side by side. “How long have you known Ozi—I mean Mr. Fabiano?”
Her red stained lips curled into a smirk. “It’s okay, Raven. You don’t have to put on an act. I saw the way he looked at you. Anyone with half a brain can see that you two are sleeping together.”
I nearly choked on my drink. “Is it that obvious?” I stammered.
Camille rested her hand over mine. “Relax, dear. I, of all people, understand the magnetic pull to that…man. He has a way of making every woman feel like they are the only one in the room. Trouble is, there’s always another woman in the room. Just be careful. I’d hate to see you end up like me.”
I jerked my hand away from hers. “What are you implying? Were you two together?” I was suddenly feeling out of my league, realizing this drop dead gorgeous woman had to be one of Ozi’s exes.
“Yes. A long time ago. I don’t like to talk about it often.” She dipped her eyelashes down and stared into her dirty martini.
My curiosity was piqued. Between the way he manhandled her at his party to the sad look on her face now, I had to know more. I had to know who I was getting involved with. “I don’t mean to pry, but can you tell me what happened?”
“I trusted him and he betrayed me,” she spat.
“He cheated on you?” I asked a little too loudly. A couple patrons turned their heads in our direction for a split second before going back to their conversations.
Camille studied my face for a minute before letting out a sigh. “Sadly…yes. He is not the one woman type, Raven. If I were you, I’d reconsider spending time with him. He is sexy and charming and extremely good in bed, but he will only break your heart.”
I felt crushed. Like someone knocked the wind out of me. Maybe she was just jealous? Maybe she was lying? “Well, thanks for the heads up. You should probably go. My friend will be back any second.”
She smiled and nodded as she slid out of the booth. “I know it’s none of my business, but next time you see him, ask him about me. His answer will be all the truth that you need. Ask him if he betrayed me.” She turned to leave but stopped, turning back around. “Oh and Raven, if you ever want to leave Dolce Sale, I can offer you a position at my new restaurant. I’d love to have someone as talented as you on staff.” She tossed a business card at me before strutting off.
When Max came back twenty minutes later, I had polished off two more old fashions. “What took you so long?”
He groaned. “Aside from the line to the restroom being a mile long, I ran into an ex on the way out. Sorry, girl. What did I miss?”
“Exes must be the theme of the evening,” I replied curtly.
Max’s eyes widened and he began looking around. “Your ex is here?”
“No. Not mine. Ozi’s. The blonde from the party the other nigh
t. She took it upon herself to issue me a warning.”
Max signaled to the server for another round. “Ooh spicy. Did she try to stake her claim on him or something? Tell you to back off? I love a good catfight.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “No. Quite the opposite actually. She said he cheated on her and that I should stay away from him. Then she offered me a job.”
“You should talk to Ozi. Look, I know he’s a player. Always has been. But players don’t usually commit themselves just to cheat. They don’t have to commit to begin with. And the way Ozi looks at you, well, it’s pretty obvious that he’s into you.”
“I hope you’re right because I just can’t get involved in a situation like that again. I’m still barely recovering from Alex. My heart can’t take anymore breaking.” The singer had slowed it down and was now crooning into the mic about unrequited love and lost chances. Between her voice and the multiple old fashions I’d consumed in the past hour, I had to fight the urge to cry.
Max squeezed my hand. “Talk to him before jumping to any conclusions. He might surprise you.”
I blinked back tears and scolded myself in my mind for being so emotional. No one wants to be the sad crying girl at the bar.
“And as far as the job offer, you better not even think of leaving Dolce Sale. If you’re not there, Tori will start picking on me again,” Max teased.
“Oh, so I’m your human shield? Nice to know I’m appreciated for something,” I joked back.
“You know I love you, girl.” He winked and sucked down the rest of his drink.
I tried my best to push Camille out of my mind for the rest of the night, but her voice lingered in the back of my mind. Ozi was super secretive and he had women throwing themselves at him all the time. Not more than two weeks ago, I waited on him and that busty blonde that couldn’t keep her hands off him. Did I really expect him to change his ways for me? Or was Camille right? Was I just another notch on his belt?
Maplewood, Connecticut was even smaller than I had pictured. The welcome sign we passed declared a population of three thousand. It was no wonder that Raven was like a fish out of water in New York City.
Cassius typed away on his laptop as I sped through the woodsy terrain. “I’m not sure what I’m looking for exactly. Maybe it’s just a coincidence that the hacker was in Maplewood?”
I gave him a long sideways look. “Seriously? It’s also really fucking weird that her parents didn’t see anything wrong with her sister marrying her ex. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something not right about any of it.”
Cassius shut his laptop with a bang. “So they’re a dysfunctional family. You’ve just described every human we’ve ever met. I still don’t get why you’re so keen on digging around. What do you think you’re going to find?”
I gripped the steering wheel tight enough without snapping it off. Even after all these years, I had to remind myself of my own strength. “Well, hopefully more about this hacker. But aside from that, I like Raven. I want to pursue something with her. It’s been a long time since I’ve even entertained that with a woman. But something is off. Trust me. If I let her into our world, I need to know that she won’t be in any danger.”
Cassius nodded. “Well, I did some digging into her internship. I wanted to see how she was selected and how she was able to afford the plane ticket to Italy. But there was no record of it. She claims she was at your winery in Italy and she clearly has an extensive knowledge of wine, but there’s no actual record of her being there.”
Fuck. “Okay. I’ll ask her about it when we get back. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.” Maybe she borrowed money from a friend?
Cassius groaned and lit up a cigar. “Fuck, Ozi. You’re starting to sound like Lux.” He puffed smoke circles in perfect rings toward the windshield.
I opened the sunroof to get some air. “What happened with Lux was different and you know it. That’s not going to happen to me. Raven is nothing like Lilith or Camille for that matter.” Lux was an incubus—a demon who feeds off of sex—and Lilith was his maker. She made him fall in love with her and then abandoned him. He shut off his emotions and has kept them off ever since.
I pulled into a parking spot in front of the Rusty Nail. In my two hundred years on this planet, I’d learned a handful of things that stuck with me. One of them was if you wanted information on someone or something, it was probably wise to ask the bartender.
Cassius and I stood out like sore thumbs as we exited my hundred thousand dollar black sedan in our three piece suits. The Rusty Nail was exactly what it sounded like—dark, dingy, and crawling with nosy locals that didn’t take kindly to outsiders. They drank us in, scanning us from head to toe as if we had just come to steal their first born children.
I wiped the crumbs off a bar stool with my silk handkerchief and took a seat. Cassius did the same but only half-sat, keeping his eyes glued on the perimeter behind me. His wild streak would not allow him to be comfortable anywhere. Not in human spaces at least.
The stocky bartender, wearing a red flannel shirt and dark denim jeans, leaned against the wall, and glared at us. “Just passing through?”
I unbuttoned my collar. “Something like that. We’ll take two shots of your finest whiskey.”
The bartender moved slow toward the bottles. He slammed two shot glasses down in front of us and poured out something that looked like dirty water. “Fine isn’t something we carry around here. This is what we got.”
I knew I should have brought my flask. Something told me he had better booze but wanted to make sure we didn’t stick around. “Saluti.” I lifted the glass to my lips and downed it back before I could gag. Cassius didn’t touch it.
The bartender exchanged a chuckle with another patron, a squirrely guy who looked like he hadn’t bathed in days. “What brings you through our neck of the woods?”
I smiled, tight lipped. “I’m glad you asked. I’m doing some research on the town and its prominent families. I was hoping you could tell me about the Monroe farm?”
He chewed on a toothpick, tossing it back and forth across his chapped lips. “What kind of research? You one of those big city detectives or something?”
“No, on the contrary. I’m a professor. I teach history. Thought I’d focus on small towns this semester.” It was so easy to lie to them. Humans would believe anything to suit the narrative in their heads. Especially the one that removes any possible threat.
The bartender leaned back against the register, folding his arms to his chest. “The Monroe farm is just up the hill. Nothing much to tell. They keep to themselves.”
Cassius picked up his glass finally and sniffed it before knocking it back. “How long have they been in Maplewood?” he asked, his voice gruff.
The bartender shrugged. “Long as I can remember. Not much of them left though. They got a couple daughters. One moved away to a big city I heard. The other one won’t even go to the store by herself.”
Nothing new. “Anything unusual about them?” I persisted. There had to be something.
The bartender looked up at the ceiling and scratched his chin. “Not that I reckon. Unless you count how their oldest one looks nothing like the rest of them. Rumor had it, she was the milkman’s daughter if you catch my drift?” He winked and chuckled.
Now we’re getting somewhere. “Oh? Go on.” I placed a hundred dollar bill down on the bar.
His eyes lit up. “Yeah. I remember now. When Mrs. Monroe was pregnant with her, we never saw her. Not once. Mr. Monroe wouldn’t let anyone inside their house for nine months. When she finally came out, the kid looked older than a newborn.”
“And nobody asked or questioned them?” I asked.
The bartender shrugged again. “Not our place. They are a respectable family. And we mind our business around here.”
I slapped another hundred on the bar. “Well, thank you for your time.” I gave a Cassius a nod.
“You ain’t a professor, are ya?” The bartende
r swooped up the hundreds just in case I changed my mind.
He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box but he was smarter than I’d given him credit for. “Have a good day.” I smiled and gave him a nod before walking out.
As I pulled the car out of the parking lot, Cassius had his laptop open again, furiously typing away on it.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Cassius didn’t break eye contact with the screen. “That she was adopted? Yeah. I was searching the wrong databases before.”
“You’re still not going to find anything. You heard the man. Her mom hid inside to disguise the fact that Raven was adopted. It wasn’t legit. There’s not going to be a record of the adoption.”
Cassius looked up. “So what are you saying? That she was stolen?”
“Or left on their doorstep. Either way, it explains why they have very little love for her. Bastards.”
“So what does any of this have to do with you?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe nothing. But I highly doubt this family would have been willing to pay Raven’s way to Italy just so she could learn about wine. Check the winery records again. I want a complete list of everyone who was staffed at the time Raven was there.”
“You got it.”
As Cassius clicked away on the keyboard, I drove toward the direction of the Monroe farm. I had to see this family for myself.
“Oh, shit,” Cassius said.
“What?” My heart was racing.
“I found something. Pull over,” Cassius commanded.
I nestled the car on the shoulder. “What is it?”
“While there’s no record of Raven as an intern that summer, there was a plane ticket bought in her name, round trip to Italy.”
“Bought by who?” I snapped.
“Oh, fuck. You are not going to believe this.”
“Tell. Me. Right. Now.” The tips of my fangs were pushing through my gums.
Cassius used the back of his hand to wipe the sweat off his brow. “It was…Enzo.”
What the fuck?
After I Fall (Immortal Billionaires Book 1) Page 12
