Suckered

by Gina LaManna

  “A Violet Society project?”

  Anthony nodded. “Barroni couldn’t be there for me, so he spent a boatload of money and shipped me off to boarding school in the United States. I ran away before I ever stepped foot in that school. That’s when I pulled my first job.”

  “You pulled a job in America?”

  “Well, sort of,” he said. “I broke into the boarding school I was supposed to attend, stole back the money, and returned it to Barroni in a suitcase. I figured if I wasn’t going to school, Barroni deserved his money back.”

  “You both scare me and awe me,” I said. “I’m guessing somewhere about then is when you adopted the little shack in Stillwater? And then Carlos?”

  “You know the rest.” Anthony nodded. “For the record, that’s the only time I ever stole something I didn’t need. I’m not a monster.”

  “I wouldn’t marry a monster.”

  He kissed me on the forehead. “I don’t know why you are marrying me, but I try not to ask too many questions. Until you say I do, I’m worried you’ll see me for who I really am and run away.”

  “I worry the same thing.” I turned to face him. “That you’ll see the real me someday, and all of my flaws. But I do see the real you.”

  He turned his eyes down, stared at the rocks.

  I rested my fingertips against his chin and forced him to look at me. “You’re kind, and you’re generous. You had a really difficult life growing up, and you dealt with it the best you could. Frankly, I don’t know how you turned out so awesome after all of this.”

  He smiled, but it was a sad one. “The one person I could never find—in all of my searches—was my sister. Barroni said she went to a better life, and that it was best if we didn’t interfere.”

  “What was her name?” I asked.

  “Well, fancy seeing you here,” a new voice said. “What are you guys up to?”

  I shielded my eyes against the glowing sun. “Alessandra?”

  She smiled. “It’s really good to see you again, Lacey. You too, Anthony.”

  I squinted at her. Now that Fashion Week was over, she’d lost the stilettos. However, she’d kept the black jeans and added dark, stylish sunglasses and a striped tank top. Still far more trendy than my wildest dreams.

  I blinked again. “I thought you were going home?”

  Anthony looked at me, his mouth parted.

  I clapped a hand over my lips. “I am sorry, that was so rude.” Leaping from Anthony’s lap, I gave her an extra squeezy hug to make up for it. “I’m just surprised to see you here. Did you decide to stay longer?”

  Allie bit her lip, scuffing her black tennis shoes against the ground. “No, not really.”

  I probably looked confused on the outside. Because I definitely felt confused on the inside. “Oh?”

  “I mean, yes, I suppose.” She sighed and turned, looking at the pastel blue door, behind which existed the screaming kids and hollering grandmother. Then in the same voice as Anthony—dark, wispy like smoke—she spoke. “I thought I was coming home.”

  Anthony’s back stiffened. “Home?”

  She nodded. “I’m adopted and…”

  “Alessandra…” Anthony stood up. “That’s your real name? Not Allie?”

  She nodded. “The name I was born with—at least, that’s what my adopted parents tell me.”

  “Do you know your last name?” Anthony asked. “The last name you were born with, I mean?”

  “My last name is Miller, but before…” She shifted her weight from one foot to the next. “No. All I know is that someone in my family was connected with The Violet Society.”

  “How do you know that?” Anthony rose to his feet. “How can you possibly know that?”

  “Because of this.” She reached for the necklace resting on her collarbone and held it out. “The symbol. I identified it a while back, and I have been obsessed ever since. I’ve been to almost every heist sighting known to the general public, and still nothing.”

  “Who are you looking for?” Anthony narrowed his eyes. “His name?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. Nobody knows. But I’ve done a lot of research, and I have a theory for what it might have been…”

  “What is it?” Anthony asked.

  Alessandra reached into her purse. From inside she pulled a photograph. I leaned closer to see it. Pictured in ink the color of dust was a family of four. A handsome father, a round, smiling mother. In the mother’s arms was a baby no more than a few weeks old. Next to her, almost as tall as her chin, stood a boy. A boy whose eyes stared back at me now.

  By the time Alessandra whispered the last name, all three of us had put the puzzle pieces together. I stepped back, snatching the picture as it fell from Alessandra’s hands.

  “Alessandra,” he said, in an accent that rolled from the tongue, Anthony’s native language flowing as natural as the waves behind us. “Is this you?”

  She swallowed. “I don’t know, I…think so. I thought that if I came here, maybe I’d feel something, maybe I’d just know…”

  We all three looked toward that blue door. When Alessandra turned back, her eyes brimmed with tears. “Was this your home, too?”

  Anthony opened his arms, a smile splitting his face wide open, bright as the first day of spring after a long, hard winter.

  Alessandra stepped forward, her head hardly coming up to his chest now that she’d ditched her high heels for flats, the two embracing so strongly it brought tears to my own eyes. Which said a lot, since I’d already cried today. I was so engrossed in the reunion I almost wiped my face with the photograph, catching myself in the nick of time and using my shirt instead.

  Anthony noticed my movement and spread his arms wider. I ran into the dogpile and felt Anthony’s arm clasp around my back as I burrowed in, the sweet scent of roses and sugar reminding me that I still hadn’t bought new perfume.

  When we finally stepped back, I probably looked like a zombie in a horror movie—mascara everywhere—while Alessandra resembled a porcelain doll, all dewy eyes and shy smiles.

  “Well,” she said, exhaling a breath and raising her arms in pure joy. “Isn’t this exciting? Tell me everything!”

  ** **

  “This is the best vacation ever,” Meg said. “I love everything about this trip. What do you think, Allie?”

  Alessandra laughed as the limousine pulled onto the side of the road. “I can’t agree more.”

  “We’re gonna eat in a cave,” Meg said. “I always knew I had a real strong connection with my ancestors. You know the ones, the cave women.”

  Alessandra was still new enough to give Meg the benefit of the doubt, and she offered a polite laugh.

  I shook my head, but nothing could spoil my mood today. All of us—the entire Luzzi crew plus Lizabeth, Harold, and Alessandra—had dressed in formal wear for the event. Carlos had booked us a dinner at one of his favorite restaurants, supposedly the most romantic restaurant in the world.

  The Grotto, it was called, the restaurant built into a cave over the water. Reservations were required months in advance for everyone who wasn’t Carlos, and many a wedding had been held here. I knew because I’d Googled photos on the way over and drooled over the gorgeous images.

  “Okay, so maybe this is fancier than cave people,” Meg said, as we entered the stunning space. “Good thing I put on a dress. I even combed my hair. Lacey, why don’t you get married here?”

  I almost swallowed my tongue. “Oh, well, I hadn’t really thought about it.”

  “When are you getting married?” Allie’s eyes glittered with excitement. “I am so happy you’ll be my sister-in-law. Sort of,” she backtracked, her eyes finding Anthony. “Too forward. I’m really sorry.”

  “Of course not!” I squeezed her shoulder. “Get used to us. You’ll feel like family in no time, believe me. I’ve been in your shoes.”

  We’d explained everything to Alessandra all afternoon. How I’d found the Family, how Anthony’d found
the Family… everything we could cram over a luxurious plate of cheeses, jams, house wines, and meats spread on crackers. She’d explained her life as best she could with our limited time, and voila, Anthony had a sister. Then it’d been time for dinner, and all serious conversation was halted for another time. Tonight was a night for celebrating.

  “So when are you getting married?” Meg asked, blinking her eyes innocently. “I believe you dodged the question.”

  I coughed. “No date set yet.”

  “Can I borrow you for a second?” Anthony grabbed my hand, pulling me away before I could make up some other excuse. “Go on in, ladies.”

  Allie caught on quickly, looping her arm through Meg’s and following Clay, Nora, and Carlos to a far table. They were whispering and giggling before we were out of earshot.

  “They get along well,” I said. “Anthony, you have a very cool sister.”

  He rested his hand on my back, leading me down to the edge of the water. Only when we were close enough to dunk our toes in the soft spray did he halt. Together, we sat on a relatively smooth rock, our legs hanging out over the purest of blue waters.

  “Lacey, I’ve been thinking.”

  “Hold on a second,” I said, shifting so that Baby Arnold’s foot wasn’t poking me in a sensitive place. I shifted the doll to the side, smiling as I patted his sleeping head. We’d even dressed Arnold in a suit for the occasion, and I had to admit he was sort of cute. “Okay, better.”

  “I want to marry you.” Anthony took my hands in his.

  “I do too,” I said, my eyes flicking upward in shock. “I mean, you. I want to marry you. I couldn’t marry myself, that’s just ludicrous,” I mumbled. “Oh, um…do you mean now?”

  “You can pick any date, and I’ll agree,” Anthony said. “I don’t care. I just care about me, and you, and about making things right.”

  “We are right,” I said, snuggling into his warmth. “If things get any more right, I might explode.”

  Anthony laughed, slid his arm over my shoulder. He rubbed my chilly skin, exposed from the sleeveless, long dress that flowed down to my feet in an airy, gold color.

  “He’s pretty handsome, don’t you think?” I poked a toe over at Arnold. “We did good, watching over him.”

  I felt Anthony flinch. “I don’t know about good, but he’s still alive.”

  “That’s saying something, I suppose.”

  Sounds of a party filtered down to us. Lizabeth and Harold were in the middle of some formal dance to an Italian-sounding song, twirling across the stone floor. I could make out Meg sneaking champagne and appetizers from a server’s tray left on the counter, while Alessandra spoke in low tones with Carlos and Nora. Clay leaned over the railing, watching Baby Arnold with a glare so intense it almost set the plastic on fire.

  “We should get back,” I said. “As much as I’d like to stay here all night.”

  But Anthony wasn’t ready to go yet. He cinched his arms closer, resting my head against his chest. The breeze ruffled my hair, the last of the sunshine warming my face. Maybe we didn’t have to go quite yet.

  “Family’s not so scary, is it?” he asked, almost to himself.

  I snuck a glance at his face. He wore a conflicted expression as he looked at Baby Arnold. Then he tilted his face toward the restaurant, the sight of everyone gathered together pulling a smile from his lips.

  “I don’t think family is scary at all,” I said. “In fact, I think we’ve got the very best one.”

  Anthony stared at me for a long, long time. So long that I eventually shivered under his gaze.

  “What are you looking at?” I glanced down to make sure I didn’t have a glob of ketchup on my clothes. As far as I could tell, however, my face and dress were free from debris. I glanced at Arnold next, but he was just as ugly as usual.

  “Do you trust me?” Anthony asked.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Come with me, then.”

  “Where? Now?”

  He held out a hand. “Just trust me.”

  I looked back toward the cave, spotting Meg as she leaned over the railing. She was doing some sort of crazy winking thing with her eyes, and I couldn’t tell if she was aiming it at me or Anthony. “Do you think Meg is okay?”

  “Yes,” he said, a little too quickly. He stood, waiting until I placed my hand in his, then guided me to my feet. “What do you say about an adventure?”

  “I say…” I looked up at Meg to make sure she hadn’t fallen over the ledge.

  She’d disappeared, leaving the rest of the group to mingle, chat, and sip champagne in the space before dinner.

  “Everyone is waiting for us. Are you sure we can’t do this later?” I hesitated at Anthony’s crestfallen expression. “Okay, never mind. Let’s go.”

  ** **

  “Where do you plan on going with this?” I tapped a rusty old bike near the front of the restaurant with my toe. “It looks like a hunk of junk.”

  “I wanted to get you a nice car, but unfortunately, nice cars don’t go where we’re going.” Anthony bent over, pulled up the bicycle. “I’ll get on first, and you can sit on my lap.”

  “This is something me and Meg would do,” I said, as Anthony situated himself on the bike seat. It was something out of a 1930’s Italian movie starring two little kids. Not two full grown adults. “Me and you don’t do these sorts of things.”

  “First time for everything.” He patted his lap. “I had to be creative.”

  “Creative,” I muttered, situating myself awkwardly on Anthony’s lap. My feet dangled, searching for pedals and finding air. “This is very creative; I’ll give you that.”

  “It’d be too obvious to have a car pull up in front,” Anthony said. “Everyone would’ve noticed, and I wanted to be discreet.”

  “Is that why we had to crawl around the front door?”

  “Clay was looking out the window. If anyone saw us leaving, it would ruin my plans.”

  “Well, according to the chef, we have forty-five minutes before anyone notices we’re gone,” I said, throwing my arms around Anthony’s neck as he began pedaling. “That’s when the food is served and people will sit down. Can we accomplish everything you want in that time frame?”

  A low sound came from his throat, a growl that sent my mind spiraling toward all sorts of fun places. “Not even close, sugar.”

  My face burned red, but luckily, nobody noticed. Because we were alone on an old, rickety bike plowing down a dusty dirt road toward an undisclosed destination. The bicycle had a basket decorated with withered sunflowers, the formerly red paint on the handlebars now chipping and dark.

  Once I figured out how to hold onto Anthony and let him do the rest of the work, the trip was almost pleasant. Except for the whole lack of a seat thing, but if I stared over the ocean and focused on the breathtaking cliffs to our left, I could ignore the discomfort.

  “Have you been here before?” I asked over the sound of the blue-green water dancing against the shore.

  We were alone on an ancient, abandoned path. The ascent had grown steadily steeper as the minutes flew by, little puffs of Anthony’s breath against my neck signaling the increase in difficulty.

  He didn’t answer, probably because he was using his breaths to fuel his legs. So I wrapped myself tighter, enjoyed the sights of the sprawling countryside peppered with grasses and rocks and stubborn flowers poking their heads from the parched ground.

  When we finally came to a stop, I could still see our starting point, the restaurant, peeking over a rocky cliff on the water. What I hadn’t realized was how high we’d gone, the winding road much steeper-looking now that we weren’t on it. No wonder Anthony was out of breath. Even Iron Man would’ve had a hard time biking this hill.

  “What is this place?” I reached for his hand as he set the bike against the ground. “Are you sure we couldn’t have called a cab or something?”

  He pulled me close to him, his arm around my shoulders as he rested his chee
k against my forehead. Looking straight ahead, he stared beyond the expanse of endless water as if contemplating something deep. So I pretended to be thinking, too. Really, I was more concerned about whether we’d make it back in time for the first course.

  Anthony tightened his arms into a long squeeze, pressed a kiss to my forehead, and then took my hand. “I brought you here to get married.”

  “What?” I turned to him, my mouth parted in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

  A sheet of ice ran down my back. Not because I had any doubts about marrying Anthony—but because my brain couldn’t seem to comprehend what he was saying. “I thought we were going to pick a date, plan this whole big wedding. You know, the kind Nora’s been bothering me about, and—”

  “That’s the point of this, Lacey,” Anthony took both of my hands in his, facing me with the gentlest of expressions. “This is your wedding. Our wedding. Not Nora’s, not Meg’s, not anyone’s but yours and mine.”

  My heart began to beat a little bit faster. “But…they’re expecting a ceremony.”

  Anthony shrugged. “So give them a ceremony. Or a party. Or whatever you’d like to call it.”

  “I don’t understand.” My brain wasn’t functioning properly, my fingers limp in Anthony’s hands. “You want to get married…here?”

  A hint of a smile crossed Anthony’s face. “There’s a reason I picked this place. But first, you have to know that if this isn’t what you want…if you want the big ceremony and the fluffy dress and everything, you can have it. Whatever you can dream, Lacey, it’s yours. I’ll make it happen.”

  I swallowed. “Then why now?”

  The shadow of a smile on Anthony’s face faltered. “I hate seeing an occasion that should be a joyous, happy time turn into a nightmare for you. A literal nightmare. You wake up in cold sweats. That’s not the point of all this…” He trailed off, his hand gesturing to the countryside, the ocean, the world. “The point is that I want to be with you now, and forever, and for every second in between. Unless…you’re having doubts about me?”

  “No, not you. Never you.” I raised up on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I’ve never doubted that.”