When Smiles Fade

by Paige Dearth

  The condo turned out to be as tastefully decorated as his apartment in the city, with explosions of Caribbean color on the walls that gave it the feel of a resort straight out of Luxury Travel magazine, the latest issue of which Salvatore had bought for her to look at once he’d shared his plans about the trip.

  After they settled in, Salvatore accompanied Emma and Izzy down to the beach while Macie decided to stay at the condo. Isabella immediately ran off with her bucket and shovel to play in the sand, while he and Emma settled themselves at the bar on the beach. As day faded into night, they enjoyed the feel of the warm, silky breeze against their skin. From the moment they arrived, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Emma felt that people here were more relaxed. Strangers talked to each other with ease, eager to share their contentment at being on the island. The wonder of finding herself in so special a place cast a rosy glow on everything and everyone, making them all appear perfect.

  After dinner that night, Emma and Salvatore took a stroll on the beach. The waves from the ocean, sun-warmed all day, lapped over the tops of their bare feet. He pulled her to him and kissed her gently. Then they found a private spot on the beach and sat together.

  “This is the way we live, Em,” he murmured. “You could be a part of this life with me forever, if that’s what you wanted.”

  Emma didn’t quite understand what he meant. Was he asking her to marry him?

  “I don’t know what that means,” she confessed. “We’re together now and I don’t have any plans on leaving.”

  “Well, that’s all I meant,” Salvatore whispered softly. “I want you to stay. I promise you will always be taken care of and have the best things money can buy.”

  Emma was surprised at the depth of her disappointment that he hadn’t asked her to marry him. First, marriage wasn’t something she’d ever wanted, not after seeing what had happened between her own parents. Why, then, had she nurtured such expectations in the first place? Since when had she gotten so soft, so vulnerable? Second, what had possessed her to even imagine he would want to marry someone like her? Salvatore was, after all, a powerful man who belonged to one of Philadelphia’s first families. Why would he ever marry some nonentity from Norristown? What had made her harbor such absurd notions? Had she had too much to drink?

  Emma sat next to him in silence, wondering why she was being so emotionally needy, when she had taught herself to harden her heart against such meaningless things. Salvatore leaned over and kissed her. Slowly they undressed each other and made love on the beach. The whisper of the surf was background music as the waves rolled up the sand and crashed gently just short of where they lay.

  The next morning, Salvatore drove Emma, Izzy, and Macie over to Megan’s Bay on the other side of the island. With a beach that ran a mile long, it was a beautiful place. Izzy played with Salvatore in the water and they built the sandcastle he’d promised her.

  Macie studied Emma secretly trying to understand what it was about her, aside from her obvious beauty that made her so appealing to Salvatore. After their day of shopping, Macie had come to like her more, finding her almost intoxicating. But Salvatore was a strong and powerful man. What was it, she wondered, that made him so infatuated with Emma?

  After much thought, she decided it was Emma’s confidence that had lured him to her. She was so sure of herself, she didn’t seem to care about the opinions others might have of her. She said what she wanted to say when she wanted to say it. Salvatore seemed, in fact, to adore this quality of hers. It wasn’t a quality Macie had ever been allowed to nurture or develop in her life.

  Over the long weekend, she was coming to understand that Emma was, without doubt, a woman of substance. She wasn’t well-educated or well-read. She didn’t use big, complicated words when she spoke. In fact, some of the things she said might have embarrassed men other than Salvatore. Her remarks, for instance, about everything being so expensive or when she openly admitted to the waiter in a fancy restaurant that it was her first time eating lobster might have turned off many. Most men who belonged to Salvatore’s circle would have regarded Emma as white trash and dismissed her as nothing more than some cheap piece of ass. But now, spending so much time with her, Macie could see where Emma’s attraction lay. For all that she lacked in experience and social graces she made up for in charm and confidence. There was, in fact, something close to intimidating in Emma, if you got to know her well: the fact that she feared nothing. She reminded Macie of a female version of Salvatore.

  On their last evening on the island, Salvatore took Emma out to dinner at the Old Stone Farmhouse. She admired how the stone steps descended into an open-air courtyard where small tables were set with expensive white linens. Along the main building’s stone walls, tucked away under arched alcoves built of stone, were plush sofas, where people sat eating and drinking heavily.

  Salvatore led her to the front entrance of the farmhouse and they were ushered to a table that sat underneath an open window. The ambiance of the old but immaculately maintained building and the warm breeze wafting through the open windows made Emma feel as if she’d stepped into an altered reality, another universe altogether. The staff people bustled around them as if they were royalty, the most special individuals on earth. The manager invited them to the kitchen to meet the chef, and as they walked through the farmhouse and into the lower level of the building, the tantalizing aromas of food greeted them. Salvatore stopped Emma on their way down to the kitchen so that they could sign their names on the wall in the long hallway, a tradition both the restaurant owner and his patrons found enchanting.

  Once they were back at their table, Salvatore ordered them a delicious meal of steak and lobster. When they had finished their main courses, they moved out to the open stone terrace to have dessert.

  Their waitress, Autumn, approached them with big grin. “How was your meal?” she asked.

  Emma gushed, “It was wonderful! This is the nicest place I’ve ever eaten.” Instantly curious about the waitress who was around her own age, she asked, “Did you grow up here?”

  “No, actually I was born and raised in Maine,” Autumn replied, pleasantly surprised that a customer was taking an interest in her. “I just moved here a couple of months ago. I was offered a job on a boat that does snorkeling excursions and I couldn’t resist. So this is a part-time job for me, you know, until business picks up. Right now, we live on the boat.” She seemed a little embarrassed by her own situation.

  Emma was amazed by the courage and spirit of this girl who had set out on her own to make a life for herself. She wondered if things would have been different had she taken Gracie far away from home. Maybe she would still be alive today. She felt guilt-stricken for not having thought things through before leaving home and seeking refuge in the streets.

  Salvatore saw a shroud of sadness cloud Emma’s eyes. “What is it, Bella?” he asked, concerned.

  “Nothing,” she replied wistfully. “I was just thinking that if I’d made different choices, maybe Gracie would still be alive today. I still miss her so much.”

  He reached over and took her hand. “I’m sure you did everything you could to protect her,” he soothed. “Sometimes things just happen. I learned when I was very young that you can’t live with regret. She knew you loved her.”

  Emma simply nodded as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

  When they’d finished their dessert and the bill came, Emma leaned into Salvatore.

  “Please give Autumn a good tip,” she urged. “I know where she is in her life and it’s a tough place. She needs the money.”

  “Of course, an extra special tip just from you then,” Salvatore promised, placing an extra $200 with the bill.

  The Old Stone Farmhouse would remain for Emma a cherished memory for years to come. In the silence of occasional bouts of loneliness, she would remember that night and the girl she’d met, the one who had made a very different choice from her own.

  Chapter Eighty-Seven

 
Back in Philadelphia, life returned to normal for Emma. Men were always coming and going in Salvatore’s apartment and she started feeling more and more like his wife instead of his live-in girlfriend. However, although they’d been living together for almost a year, he had never taken her to meet his father. She often wondered if he was ashamed of her in some way or afraid that if his family asked about her history, there would be mayhem when she revealed the sordid details of her background as a stripper. The thought kept playing in her mind, and eventually she decided she would put the question to him bluntly.

  They had just returned home from dinner and were in their bedroom getting undressed when Emma blurted out, “Salvatore, when am I going to meet your mom and dad?”

  Her candor and directness never ceased to amaze him. He had noticed how she never attempted to ease her way into a discussion by beating about the bush before coming to the point, but boldly broached the topic, however difficult it might be.

  “Well, that’s a good question,” he responded. “I don’t know. Why do you want to meet them?”

  Given their relationship and the fact that they had lived together for so long, she found his counter-question odd and a bit disconcerting.

  “I don’t know what to say to that,” she replied. “I thought we were a couple. Are you ashamed of me?” she demanded, her tone defiant.

  “Whoa, hold on a minute!” he said, shocked. “Aren’t you being oversensitive? Em, one of the things I love about you is that you aren’t needy. You don’t require constant reassurances. As for the reason for not introducing you to my family, you’re reading something into the matter that isn’t there. I haven’t thought to introduce you because I haven’t told them about you yet.”

  “What!”

  “Listen, Emma,” Salvatore said in a serious tone, “there are good reasons for everything I do. My family is very private and they like to keep it that way. My parents aren’t open to meeting new people. You have to understand that they are very different from normal parents. In my family, you don’t just waltz people in to meet them. There are rules that must be followed. It’s not possible to explain everything to you because there are things I just can’t tell you.”

  Emma was exasperated by his vagueness. “Fine then!” she sulked. “I don’t need to meet them. I can just go on being your dirty little secret!”

  He walked over and wrapped her in his strong embrace. “You are even more beautiful when you’re angry. Do you know that?” he said softly, trying to lighten the mood.

  She shrugged within his arms. “Whatever.”

  “Whatever?” he asked, gingerly raising her chin with a finger to look into her face. “What we have is real, and it’s between the two of us. Meeting my parents doesn’t confirm my love for you in any way. I love you the way you are. I love your spirit and your courage. I even love your nastiness when you don’t like what I’m telling you. It turns me on.”

  Emma was aggravated and refused to look into his eyes. He continued to stare at her until she finally lifted her eyes and met his gaze.

  “Whatever,” she mumbled. “Fine. At least I know you’re a good lay. I have that to hang on to,” she joked.

  “What do you mean ‘a good lay’? I’m a great lay! Hell, girl, I’m the best fucking lay you’ve ever had!” he said, slipping off her thong and rubbing his hand gently between her legs.

  He was a great lover, always making sure that she was satisfied. He was never greedy about sex, and it aroused him just to see her turned on. A soft moan escaped her and she found his lips and began to kiss him with a fiery passion. Then she unbuttoned his shirt and worked her way down his body. When they made love that night, it was more intense than usual. They were both aroused, but it was Emma’s slow, simmering anger over certain words he had uttered that fueled her passion. She knew he belonged to her, even if he wasn’t willing to let her meet his parents. But a red flag had now been waved in front of her. There was a reason he hadn’t told his family about her, and she was disgusted with herself for being so dependent on him. It was time for her to find a way to support Izzy and herself.

  The next morning, when Salvatore came back from the Italian Market with olives, bread, and cheese, Emma was waiting for him in the kitchen.

  “Salvatore,” she began, “it’s time I went out and made my own money again. I was thinking about going back to Doubles.”

  He turned quickly and looked at her. “No! I don’t want you doing that anymore,” he said without mincing words. “I give you everything you need.”

  She looked at him with confidence. “I know you do, but I need to be independent. Which means I have to be able to support Izzy and myself.”

  “So why not get a job waitressing?” he suggested. “You worked in a restaurant for a while. You-you can do that again…”

  He was stammering, grasping at straws. Salvatore adored Emma and wanted to keep her to himself. He couldn’t bear the thought of other men looking at her now that she belonged to him. He wanted to be the only man on earth whom she paid attention to.

  “Listen,” he said thoughtfully, “I’ll talk to a friend of mine who owns a small café in the Italian Market. I’m sure he could use you there. You could work lunches. This way, you could be home for Izzy in the morning and when she gets back from school.”

  Isabella attended the Christopher Columbus Charter School, a school Salvatore had insisted was right for her.

  The following afternoon, Salvatore told Emma about Sabrina’s Café on Christian Street. “The owner will be waiting for you. He needs a dependable waitress during lunch,” he explained. Emma wasn’t thrilled that Salvatore had arranged a job for her, but was still willing to check it out and see if it was a place where she wanted to work. Later that day, she met the owner, a short, stocky Italian man who was very nice to her but left her feeling uneasy. She wondered why and realized, in retrospect, that he had seemed nervous and too anxious to please her. He had seemed to be trying too hard. Emma didn’t know that Salvatore had convinced the café owner that hiring her would be a favor to him. The café owner was more than eager to please the Mafia boss’s son and, having met Emma, deduced correctly that this beautiful woman was more to Salvatore than a mere acquaintance. He introduced her to the other employees and asked her to return the next day.

  “So how did your meeting go?” Salvatore asked when she returned.

  “It was fine,” she told him. “He’s kind of a nervous little guy, though. Is there something wrong with him?” she pressed, wanting to know more and surmising accurately that the café owner was nervous because of her status as Salvatore’s girlfriend. “Did you tell him I was your girlfriend?”

  “Of course I didn’t tell him that!” he retorted. “I wanted you to get the job on your own merit.”

  The skeptical look remained on her face. “Well, that’s funny, because he didn’t even ask me if I had experience,” she remarked. She turned to Tony, who was enjoying a cup of hot espresso. “Could you please drive me to Ambler tomorrow so that I can pick up my car?” she asked. “I want to be able to drive myself around. It’s time things got back to normal.”

  Tony nodded. “Sure. Whatever you want,” he said, looking over at Salvatore, who seemed unfazed by her request.

  Emma entered the bedroom and sat down on the chair next to the bed. She was tired, but her mind still toyed with the idea of going back to Doubles. She knew she could make so much more money there but was conflicted because of Salvatore’s objections. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she didn’t want him making decisions for her either. She decided to give her job at the café a week and see how it went. If she didn’t like it, she would again broach the topic of going back to Doubles.

  Chapter Eighty-Eight

  When Tony drove Emma past her old apartment in Ambler the next day, her stomach lurched. Katie had moved her car from its usual place and parked it in front of her own apartment. The moment they pulled up to Katie’s place she came running outside and the two young wome
n excitedly greeted each other.

  Katie whispered, “I’ve missed you so much, Em!”

  Emma gave her an affectionate squeeze. “I know, Katie. I’ve missed you too! Everything is so different now, but all in a good way. Izzy is doing great. She’s really happy, and Salvatore treats us well.”

  “I’m happy for you, Em,” her friend replied, smiling at her. “You deserve to be happy. Come inside. I have some cold beers waiting for us.”

  Emma turned and waved good-bye to Tony, who had remained in the car. As he drove off, his gaze lingered protectively on her reflection in his rearview mirror; he had to make sure she was all right. He wanted Emma to be safe and not just because Salvatore would literally kill him if her life was endangered in any way. Tony cared just as much for her well-being, because over the past year he had really come to like her.

  Inside her apartment, where the two women made themselves comfortable, Katie cracked open a Budweiser and handed it to her friend.

  “So what the fuck’s up? Tell me everything!” she begged.

  “Oh my God, there’s so much to tell!” Emma replied. “Salvatore is a great guy and we have incredible sex. He’s hot, he’s powerful, and he’s rich! What more is there?” She gave her friend a teasing glance. Then she turned serious. “I love him, Katie,” she confessed. “The thing is, he hasn’t taken me to meet his parents, and I get the feeling he isn’t ready for it yet. He’s already admitted that he hasn’t told them about me. He’s trying to keep our relationship a secret from them. I did bring up the subject with him, but don’t want to nag him about it and make him feel like I’m some freak who is all needy and shit. I told him I wanted to go back to work at Doubles and he got upset. He said he didn’t want me stripping anymore. So he hooked me up with a waitressing job at a café. Some place his friend owns.”