by Lisa Cardiff
As a general rule, I never put much stock into what people thought of me. I didn’t care about making friends. I never had a crush on anyone, male or female. I only cared about escaping the arranged marriage looming in my future like a date with the guillotine…until now, and it scared me.
“Ugh.” I jammed the heel of my hand into my forehead.
I needed to pull my head out of my ass. Ten minutes until my birthday party officially started, and instead of thinking about celebrating turning into an adult, I was behaving like a lovesick preteen.
I couldn’t afford to get sidetracked with a stupid crush that could never go anywhere. I owed it to my mom to break my father’s hold on me. She wanted the two of us to start a new life away from him, and I fully intended to fulfill her dying wish.
My cousins Gian and Carmela barged into the house laughing and joking with each other, and I rolled my eyes. Truthfully, I’d always been a little jealous of them. They had a mother, a father, and each other. I had nobody, not since my mom died anyway. My dad acted like a jail warden, not a parent.
“Happy birthday to my favorite dark fairy,” Gian said, ruffling his hand through my hair before drawing me into a tight hug.
As much as there was a wedge of age and awkwardness between my extended family and me, they never failed to treat me kindly. They hugged and kissed me all the time, which wasn’t surprising. The Trassatos were a family of huggers and kissers, showering everyone with love and affection. My father and I were the anomalies, cold to their warmth, dark to their light. I never could figure out what made us different. Maybe it was because my mom wasn’t one of them and never wanted to be. Or maybe because her death had emotionally handicapped both of us.
“Screw you, Gianluca.” I drew out his full name, knowing he disliked it as much as I hated the little nickname he and his sister gave me. So what? I liked the color black. A lot. It fit my mood.
“Pleasant as ever, I see.”
“Gian, be nice. It’s her birthday. You know she doesn’t like that nickname,” Carmela chastised, shoving her long wavy hair over her shoulder and pressing a kiss to each of my cheeks. She’d been dating Rocco for as long as I could remember, and she was beautiful in a sexy way that drove guys crazy. In a nutshell, she was my polar opposite. When people looked past my all black clothing, they called me cute, adorable, and tiny.
Gian grinned. “Jesus, lighten up. I was kidding.”
“Yeah. Whatever.” I raked my middle finger up the side of my face, my smile growing with every centimeter.
Scanning the decorations, his meaty paw came down on my shoulder, and he shivered mockingly. “Holy shit. What happened in here? Did somebody kill Big Bird?”
I cringed. Feathers were scattered on top of the tables like confetti. A spun sugar bird nest filled with brightly colored candy eggs perched on top of the cake. Fake birds hung from the light fixtures, taunting me with their beaks and beady eyes. It was like my personal nightmare had come to life.
“What can I say? I love birds.”
“Uh huh.” Gian popped open the bottle of Limoncello tucked under his arm and filled three plastic glasses with the greenish-yellow syrupy spirit. I loved Limoncello, and luckily for me, he brought the good stuff.
I wasn’t old enough to drink, but our family didn’t care about legalities. I could have a drink on occasion as long as I didn’t abuse the privilege or embarrass my family. My father waxed poetic on more than one occasion about the wisdom of his parents serving him watered down wine with dinner from the time he turned eight. He firmly believed that introducing alcohol in small doses at a younger age reduced the likelihood of overindulging in the future.
Carmela handed Gian and me a glass and raised hers in the air. “Happy Birthday, Emilia, our favorite cousin.”
I tapped both of their glasses and gulped down the fiery sweet liquid. “Another,” I croaked.
Humor shining in his golden eyes, Gian filled my glass again, and I immediately tossed back the contents. I needed it if I wanted to get through this party without either constantly searching for Sal or being reduced to tears by the freakish feathered creature display.
Three and a half shots later—Gian ripped the last one away from my mouth before I could finish it—I roamed the party with a smirk on my face and feeling lighter than I had in years.
People patted me on the head asked me questions about my piano lessons and what I’d been up to in the past month or two. I offered a bunch of meaningless responses because my only plan was escaping this life, and I could only imagine the look on their faces if I blurted out the truth.
When nine o’clock rolled around and Sal still hadn’t made an appearance, I slipped out the back door and curled up beneath my favorite tree. I had tea parties with imaginary friends in this same spot, climbed the tree to study the stars, took shelter in the branches when I didn’t want to hear my parents fighting, and grieved beneath it when my mom died. It was the one place where my days didn’t feel so heavy.
Staring back at the yellow lights of the home I shared with my dad, the brisk spring air pebbling my skin, I finally let the disappointment come. I couldn’t explain why I cared Sal hadn’t bothered to show his face tonight. He hadn’t given me any indication he wanted to be friends or anything else for that matter.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Hey, what’s the birthday girl doing out here?”
My stomach flipped at the sound of Sal’s voice. I glanced up and caught him striding across the yellowed grass without a care in the world. He crouched down in front of me, a box wrapped in brown paper with a pink feather boa knotted around it dangling from one hand. Too busy looking him up and down because I could scarcely believe he was real, I didn’t say a word for a long beat. Sal was here at my house for my birthday party. Holy crap. He actually came.
“Just getting some air,” I finally answered.
“You look sad. Are you going to tell me what’s goin’ on? Did someone upset you?”
His question hung in the air, and without evaluating the consequences, I blurted out the truth. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
He rubbed his hand along his jaw. “Yeah, sorry about that. I had some stuff to take care of. It took longer than I expected, but I come bearing gifts.”
He held up the box, rattled it, and set it down next to me.
“Thank you.”
“Come on.” He tapped the top of the box with a finger. “Open it up. I want to know if you like it.”
“Right now?”
“No, next week.” He smirked, his brownish green eyes dancing with far too much amusement. “What do ya think?”
“Jerk,” I mumbled, tearing the pink boa off the package and draping it around my neck despite my total hatred of everything feathered. I ripped into the wrapping paper and opened the box. “Binoculars?”
“Yup. I figured you could do all the spying or bird watching you wanted without straining your eyes.”
I nodded, pulling out the binoculars. “Wow. Thanks.”
I held them to my eyes, pretending to test them out even though I couldn’t see a damn thing in the dark. Truthfully, I was doing my best to disguise the rush of too revealing emotions surely carved into my face. Until I opened Sal’s present, I didn’t realize how much I missed actually receiving a gift someone put thought into.
My family had given up trying to buy me anything years ago when they figured out I religiously returned all their gifts for money if possible. While I appreciated their efforts, I was more concerned with padding my escape fund. After two years, they all caught on and started stuffing some cash in an envelope, saving all of us the hassle.
“You like ‘em?”
“Yeah.” My voice splintered, and I pulled them away from my face. “I really do.”
Sal pushed my hair behind my ears and tipped my face toward the inky sky with two roughened fingers. “You have the most beautiful neck I’ve ever seen. You should wear your hair tied back like this more often. You remind
me of a ballerina, all dainty and fine boned.”
Awareness flickered across his face, and all I could think was that he wanted to kiss me. Neither of us moved, and I held my breath, silently praying he would do it. He didn’t. The tips of his fingers painted a line from the bottom of my ear to the hollow of my neck.
“Thanks,” I whispered, hedging toward him until I could see every golden and mossy green fleck in his eyes.
He cleared his throat and his hand dropped to my lap, his fingers playing with mine. “Did you get everything you wanted?”
I debated my answer for a split second and lifted my chin. “No. Not yet, but I’m hoping there are still some surprises in store for me. Maybe you can help me. I am the birthday girl after all. I’m pretty sure you have a duty to make all my wishes come true.”
“Hmm. Is that right?”
“Would I lie to you?”
One side of his mouth hooked up and I swear on everything holy my stomach fluttered. “That’s up for debate, but I’ll play along for now. What do you want?”
“So, um, I’m eighteen now and all, and I-I…”
My courage stalled and I couldn’t get the request out of my mouth. I rolled my neck in a circle, unscrambling the tangled thoughts clouding my brain. He could say no, and without a doubt, I’d feel uncomfortable every time we ran into each other, and that was all right. I didn’t plan to remain under my father’s roof for more than another year anyway.
“I want a birthday kiss,” I blurted before my pride had the chance to edit my request.
His hand abandoned mine. “You do?”
“From you,” I added, heat crawling up my neck. Thank God for the darkness.
He glanced at the house and rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s not gonna happen.”
“Why?”
“Well, for starters, I think your dad would put a bullet between my eyes.”
“My dad is holed up in the study with the rest of the men drinking bourbon and smoking cigars.”
“That explains why it looked like a girls only party inside.”
“Yep.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled, taking me in and clearly deliberating the pros and cons of my request.
“In that case…” He tugged on my sleeve, pulling me closer to him. “I think I need to do my duty and grant the birthday girl her wish.”
“You do,” I rasped out, my eyelids heavy, my heart racing, and my lips tingling in anticipation.
Not a second later, his lips were on mine and a quick gasp flew out of my lungs, searing a path right past my parted lips. The kiss was so gentle I questioned whether I imagined it. He lingered there, not taking it any further. When he started to lean back, I whimpered, desperate for him to keep going and do something forbidden.
“Not enough?” His voice sounded gravelly and his eyes darkened.
My fingers dug into the tight weave of his dark shirt, my breaths choppy.
“Noted,” he whispered, his lips slanting against mine. They were warm and smooth and tasted smoky with a hint of honey. Every brush sent chills down my spine and doubled my heartbeat.
His tongue swiped across the seam of my lips before working its way inside my mouth. I moaned, and it was like throwing gasoline on fire. His arms circled my body and my back collided with the roughened bark of the tree. His hands moved up and down my sides, and my fingers speared into his thick waves. I transferred every emotion inside of me into that kiss: happiness, awe, loneliness, and a touch of anger and helplessness.
Sal’s hips wedged between mine, his mouth traveling to the pulse points next to my ear and at the hollow of my neck. His hands snuck under the hem of my dress and my leg muscles contracted beneath his fingers. Even in my lust-intoxicated state, I knew this didn’t resemble a sweet birthday kiss. I needed to pull the plug on this half-baked idea before my father got a wild hair up his ass and came outside looking for me. Only I couldn’t.
And like some divine creature heard my warring sentiments, Sal’s phone rang. He pulled back, chilly air quickly replacing the sizzling warmth of his body. With his heavy eyelids and his bee-stung mouth, he certainly lived up to all the stupid daydreams that had monopolized my brain over the past month. I still couldn’t believe he actually came to my birthday party out of all of the places he could be on a Friday night, and he kissed me out of all of the women he knows.
Best birthday present ever.
“I’m sorry.” He raked his teeth over his lower lip. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”
His apology hit my chest with the force of a punch. I’d rather he said nothing than apologize. Outside of Gian and Carmela, everyone treated me with kid gloves, and I suspected it had to do with who my father was more than anything else.
“No worries. It was the perfect first kiss.” He frowned, and I rushed to alleviate his fears. “There’s no reason to freak out. I won’t tell anyone.” I made an invisible x over my heart. “I promise.”
He glanced over his shoulder, studying my house. “I need to get back to work. I only had a quick break, but I wanted to give you that present and say happy birthday.”
“Oh, okay. So when will I see you again?”
“Soon, I’m sure.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead and climbed to his feet. “Ciao, tesoro. Vivere una vita bella.”
“Bye, Sal.” He vanished around the side of the house to the front yard, his dark clothing and hair blending like a specter into the starless sky.
CHAPTER FIVE
I slinked inside the kitchen door of my house, hoping to avoid any witnesses and bolt up the service stairs to my bedroom. I slammed the back door shut behind me, and pressed one of my hands to my still tingling lips. I held back a giggle. I couldn’t believe he kissed me, like really kissed me. Other than his apology at the end, the moment couldn’t have been more mind-blowing.
“You like him, don’t you?”
My arm dropped to my side. Letizia DiMartino stood in front of the white farm sink, staring out the window. Most people called her Lettie. She’d married one of my dad’s capos, Pietro, five years ago. I went to the wedding, and I remembered thinking she looked so somber even when she smiled.
After cutting the cake, I found her crying in the bathroom, and she confessed that she didn’t want to marry Pietro. When I asked her why she did it, she shrugged and said she didn’t have a choice. I told her I’d run away before I married an old man. She said I was braver than her. For some reason, that moment stuck in my psyche as an omen of what would happen if I didn’t escape this life before my father succeeded in marrying me off to some stranger.
Over the years she always made a point to talk to me. She was ten years older than me, so we were in completely different places in our lives, albeit that didn’t prevent us from becoming unlikely confidants. We bonded over our shared misery. She desperately wanted out of her marriage, and I wanted to make a new life in another place where I didn’t have to worry about being a Trassato. While I wouldn’t call us best friends, my father gave me some freedom to hang around her because of her connection to Pietro and the Family.
“Who?”
A sly grin came over her face. “Sal. Who else would I be talking about?”
“Oh.” I traced the crevice in the herringbone set hardwood with the toe of my black ballet flats. “I didn’t realize you knew him.”
“Yeah. You didn’t know he lived with us a while back?”
“No. You never said anything.”
She shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal. Pietro moved Sal’s family into our guesthouse after his dad died. I think he wanted to make sure they landed on their feet.”
“They still live there?”
“No. Once Sal graduated from high school, Angelo took him under his wing, and they moved out shortly after that. I heard Sal rented a little apartment for his mom and brother.”
“Oh.” My shoulders sunk, and I bit my lower lip. “So you know him well then.”
Something resembling jealousy flared
in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t like the idea of Sal being friends with Lettie. She was older, sophisticated, and in my opinion much prettier than me. Not a piece of her long shiny hair dared to fall out of place. Her makeup invariably hit the right note between not enough and way too much. She had one of those smiles that lit up a room. Ugh. I didn’t want to think about it.
“Somewhat. Although I don’t think anyone knows Sal all that well. We hung out on occasion, but he spent most of the time doing whatever it took to get into Pietro’s good graces.”
“Yeah, um, I guess that makes sense.”
“So what’s going on between you two?”
“Nothing really. He had a meeting with my father, and we talked in passing. We’ve run into each other a couple of times since then, and he’s nice. You could say we’re friends.”
“It looked like more than that to me.”
That comment answered the question lingering in my mind about whether she had seen us kissing. Flames rolled up my face, and I caught her eye before quickly looking away. As much as I wanted to trust Lettie, she was kind of a wildcard, and I couldn’t risk anything getting back to my father. Without exception, he shut down any interaction with the opposite sex if they weren’t related to me.
“Trust me. It wasn’t a big deal. I don’t expect anything to come out of it. You know how my dad is. He keeps me under lock and key most of the time except for those dumb piano lessons and family social events.”
She arched an eyebrow. “If you say so.”
“Even if I wanted something to happen between Sal and me, and I don’t, it would be impossible. Knowing my dad, he’s probably going to force me to marry some connected asshole in Chicago or maybe the Mickey Mouse Mafia in LA if I’m lucky. I’d love to get far away from this place.”
I laughed off my statement despite the fact it was so close to the truth, my stomach literally rolled with nausea. While the great Dominick Trassato hadn’t come right out and told me of his intentions, I overheard enough to know he had been negotiating my marriage to Master Marcello, whoever the hell that was, since before my mom died. My father could plot and plan until his face turned blue though, because I’d never marry someone beholden to him.
