by Lisa Cardiff
I twirled his red tie around my wrist, kissing him like it had been years and not mere days since my lips touched his.
“I wish we could run away tomorrow. I don’t want to wait four more months,” he muttered.
A tremor rippled through me. “Me neither…” I mumbled, wanting to drag him out the garage door and steal away before anyone noticed. My errant thoughts faded from my mind when his lips moved down my neck. My body burst to life with every caress, kiss, and puff of air.
He lifted me on to the top of the counter, wedging his legs between mine, and kept kissing me, drinking me in until I was boneless and limp, wondering how I’d find the energy to get off this counter and rejoin the party. Even worse, I was certain my cheeks were flushed and my hair frazzled, but I set out to boycott all my worries of the future tonight, and that was precisely what I intended to do right now.
Glass shattered outside the door, and he broke the kiss, chuckling. “Well someone has piss poor timing.” He pulled me off the counter and handed me the broom from the closet. “Take this in there, and I’ll slip out the garage service door, smoke a cigar before coming back inside.”
My throat dry, and my hands still unsteady, I nodded as he opened the door.
“Em,” he said, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear, “I’ll come find you in an hour at the next meeting spot. The sunroom right?”
“Yeah,” I whispered, watching the garage door close behind him, my heart drunk on love and his skillful kisses.
With a broom clutched in my hand, I rolled open the door. Only Alessandro and Lettie were nearby. Lettie was leaning against the refrigerator with her arms folded across her chest, glaring. Alessandro stood directly across from her, his shoulder braced against the wall with a smirk on his face. Remnants of a broken champagne glass and bubbly liquid coated the floor between them.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
“What happened?” I asked, my gaze ping-ponging between the two of them.
“Yeah, Lettie.” Alessandro kicked a sliver of glass away from his boot-clad feet. “Why don’t you explain how your drink ended up in my face?”
Lettie straightened her shoulders and flipped her long dark hair over her shoulder. “Fuck you.”
“Nah,” he chuckled. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not a big fan of sloppy seconds, or in your case sloppy hundreds. Too bad my dad doesn’t have the same standards.”
Red streaks shot up Lettie’s face and she balled her hands into fists next to her thighs. “I hate you.”
He pressed a hand to his chest. “Say it isn’t so. What will I do without your love?”
“I’m done with this conversation.” Not meeting my eyes, she stormed out of the kitchen, her four-inch heels exploding like bombs against the hardwood floor, and the fabric of her body-hugging emerald green velvet dress pulling taut with every step.
“Of course you are!” he yelled after her.
I dragged the broom over the floor, waiting for Alessandro to explain. When he didn’t say anything, I asked, “So are you going to tell me what that was about?”
He got the dustpan from the mudroom, snatched the broom from my hand, and finished cleaning the mess without answering.
“I guess not,” I said, frustrated with him and Lettie. “So much for us being friends.”
“Jesus, Emilia.” He ran his fingers through his sandy brown hair. “Do you really want to talk about this here?”
“Talk about what?”
He pointed a finger at me, his lips thin and his color high. “I don’t know what you were thinking, but you need to be more discreet.”
“I think you got the two of us confused. I’m not the one who had a full glass of champagne tossed in my face.”
He stalked across the kitchen and tilted up my chin with the tip of his finger, his soft brown eyes full of fire. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on between you and Sal.” I opened my mouth to fire off a sarcastic retort, and he glared in warning. “No, I don’t want to know. The less I know the better, because whatever shit happened in the mudroom needs to end.”
I slapped his hand away from my face, anger and humiliation curling inside my gut. “It’s none of your business. Stay out of it.”
“Emilia, I’m only saying this to you because I like you, and you don’t deserve half the shit your dad does to you, but you and Sal cannot happen. Period. End of story. Your father would kill you if he found out, especially now that he has set up some arrangement with the Masciantonios. And fuck, Sal is already treading on thin ice. My dad only partially trusts him, and if he found you two have been doing whatever, he’d be in your dad’s office arguing to do the honors of fitting Sal for a pair of cement boots and sending him on a long swim in the Hudson.”
My heart skipped a beat, and I blurted out the first lie that popped into my brain. “Sal and I were talking. That’s it. I promise. We should have left the door open. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“Bullshit.” He slanted into me, eliminating any suggestion of space. “I saw you. So did Lettie. She was spying on you, and that bitch is not right in the head. I’d watch your back from now on. I know you’ve got it in your head that she’s your friend, but let me clue you in—Lettie is no one’s friend except her own. She is a sociopath.”
My stomach flipped, and bile inched its way up my throat. My mind scrambled to wrap itself around his words. “What do you mean she was spying on us?”
“She followed Sal in here, and I caught her peeking through the gap in the doorway. That’s why she tossed the glass at me. I told her to mind her own fucking business and get a life.”
“Oh shit,” I whispered.
“Oh shit is right.”
I dug my fingers into the hem of his suit jacket. “What should I do? Do you think she’s talking to my dad right now? I need to find Sal and tell him what’s—”
“No.” He glanced over his shoulder. “She’s more calculating than that. She’ll wait until she can use it to her advantage.”
“Why do you think she followed me?”
“Who knows? She’s weird about Sal, though.”
“Why? Were they…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence. The image of Sal doing anything with Lettie made my stomach lurch. He’d warned me away from her more than once, and I wondered if it had more to do with keeping a secret than her being a bad friend.
He shrugged. “Who knows? Lettie’s like a spider, luring people into her web. Maybe she got to Sal at some point.”
The glow from being with Sal had dimmed, and all the happiness inside of me following his promise to leave with me shriveled up and died. I felt lost. Alone. Confused. Like I’d lost my favorite possession.
“Hey.” Alessandro squeezed my upper arms and pressed a kiss to each of my cheeks, snapping me out of my fog. “Don’t look so sad. I’ve never seen them do anything other than talk. If anything, Sal was colder to her than I ever was when he lived with us. He barely acknowledged her presence. I’m just throwin’ theories out there for why she’s so interested in the two of you.”
Air whooshed out of my lungs and I nodded, feeling marginally better. “Yeah. Who knows?” I cleared my throat to wash away the sour taste in my mouth. “Thanks for the warning. I’m going to say goodbye to everyone and go to bed. I think I’m done for the night.”
He stepped back, releasing me from his hold. “That’s probably a good idea.”
“When do you head back to school?”
“Not for a couple of weeks, but I’m leaving my dad’s house the day after Christmas.”
“Where are you headed?”
“To LA. I’m meeting up with some friends for the New Year, so I won’t see you again for a while. You know I go to extremes to avoid everything to do with my father.”
“Must be nice to have so much freedom.”
His eyes darkened, and his lips curved downward. “Don’t be fooled. We all have baggage, and trust me, the grass isn’t always greener.”
“You too, Emilia.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
The possibility something had happened between Sal and Lettie gnawed at my gut long after Sandro dropped that bomb on me. For the next hour, I studied Sal and Lettie’s behavior, looking for hints of the truth. Sadly, my efforts failed to shed light on anything. Sal didn’t once glance in Lettie’s direction, and Lettie’s husband made sure she didn’t leave his side.
Apparently old habits die hard, because part of me pitied her when I saw his fingers dig into Lettie’s hip or anger flash across his face. She’d done something to piss him off, which wasn’t all that usual. As far as I could tell, nothing she did seemed to please him. I had no clue why he’d married her, or stayed married for that matter. Maybe it was about control.
Unlike in the past, I didn’t approach them and attempt to relieve the tension. She’d suffer when they returned to the privacy of their house. I had no desire to come to her aid tonight, though. That probably made me a terrible person, and I couldn’t find it in my heart to care. All of our shared confidences and laughs took on a sinister bent. Lettie had her own agenda, one that included stepping all over me if it helped her, and I’d never trust her again.
Ten minutes before Sal and I were supposed to meet at the next pre-arranged mistletoe location, he caught my eye. Frowning, he cocked his head and pointed to the front entryway. I shook my head and went back to the kitchen where I could slip up the service stairs and into my bedroom without calling attention to my absence. I needed to get my thoughts in order before I talked to him and that meant spending some time alone.
Instead of finding clarity in the privacy of my room, I found another black and white wrapped present from Marcello sitting on my desk. He hadn’t sent me anything except a note or two since the bracelet. My heart sped up as I peeled off the wrapping paper. I found a framed black and white headshot of my mom inside. In the lower right-hand corner, she had written:
“All my love, Ava Accorso.”
Marcello had taped another note to the back of the frame. Part of me wanted to ignore it or dump it in the trash. With my dream of Sal and me riding off into the sunset hanging by a thread, I didn’t know if I could handle any more unsettling news tonight. I unlocked my top desk drawer, kicking around the idea of saving it for another day.
Fuck it.
I unfolded it. If anything, the letter would take my mind off Sal and Lettie.
Emilia,
I came across this picture last month, and I wanted to give it to you in person. Unfortunately, my sister had an accident, and I had to stick around to help her despite all her protests that she’d be fine alone. It’s probably better this way. I could only stay in New York for a couple of days because of business commitments. I’ll have more free time in spring.
Merry Christmas,
Marcello.
P.S. I heard your family calls you the dark fairy. Should I be worried? When I was a kid someone told the story of the Orculli who are cannibalistic fairies that live in the clouds of Italy and eat unsuspecting humans.
Laughing, I pulled out a piece of paper to respond.
Marcello,
My mom told me the story of the Orculli, and I can safely say you won’t confuse me with them. I’m pretty sure the Orculli are male, bearded, fae giants who smell like rotting carcasses. At a little over five feet, I could hardly be confused for a giant, and I assure you that I don’t have anything resembling a beard on my face. As for my smell, while nobody has complained, people can be cruel backstabbing jerks so who knows?
Wait! Upon further reflection, I’ve decided to confess I’m half Orculli, complete with a beard and cannibalistic tendencies. The smell gene hasn’t presented itself though, so you won’t have to hold your nose when we’re in the same room, but I’ve heard that might change with age kind of like cheese.
XO
Emilia, the half Orculli
P.S. I eagerly await your immediate rejection of our engagement/marriage.
I fell asleep that night with a smile on my face thinking of my ridiculous response. A week went by before I received another letter from him.
Emilia the half Orculli,
Have you heard of laser hair removal? I’m sure we can do something to get rid of your excess hair, and I’ve seen that picture of your mom, so I’m sure I’ll be happy with what’s underneath. As for the cannibalistic tendencies, I’m not opposed to a few love bites as long as you don’t draw blood. I’m positive we can come up with a compromise. I’ve been told I’m a good problem solver.
Marcello the Wise
I waited five days to reply to him. I didn’t want him to think I liked exchanging letters with him.
Marcello the Wise,
What kind of compromise were you considering? I’m not into human sacrifice. It’s messy, so I do my best to restrict my diet to animals and other fairies these days. It’s not always easy, and sometimes I can’t help myself. You should keep your distance if you want to stay safe. I think Chicago and New York are far enough apart, so rest assured, you will remain intact as long as you don’t seek me out.
Emilia the Bloodthirsty
Three days later came his answer.
Emilia the Bloodthirsty,
Would you agree to wear a muzzle when you have the urge to eat something other than animals or fairies? By the way, where does one find a fairy to offer up to a half-Occulli these days? I stumbled on an article on making a fairy trap. Perhaps I should investigate this so I have one ready when we meet in a couple of months. I’d hate for our relationship to end before its starts because you were hungry.
Marcello the Fairy Trapping Apprentice
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
Sal flung open my bedroom door without knocking. “When are you going to stop ignoring me?”
Not answering him for a second, I reread my last letter to Marcello.
Marcello the Fairy Trapping Apprentice,
No need to expend any effort trapping a fairy. In all honesty, I hate winged creatures. All of them. Birds, bugs, bats, butterflies. Even fairies. (I don’t have wings so I’m not self-hating.) They all give me the creeps so you’ll have to come up with a different title for yourself.
Emilia the Wing Hater
I had no clue why I continued to write Marcello. No, that wasn’t entirely true. I hated to admit it, but I kind of liked having somebody to talk to that wasn’t in my everyday life. Sometime over the last month, he’d stopped being the enemy and turned into a confidant of sorts. Maybe even a friend, and if he were my friend, he might agree to let me go. We’d part ways without any hard feelings, and my dad couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
“I’ve been busy.” I stuffed the letter into the top drawer of my desk and faced him. “I haven’t been ignoring you.”
“Come on, Emilia. Don’t play games with me.” Sal shifted his hip, leaning against my doorframe. “You blew me off on Christmas Eve, and you haven’t said more than hello and goodbye to me in nearly a month. Did you dump me without bothering to tell me?”
Staring blankly at the wall above his head, I struggled to put my feelings into words. He was right. I had been avoiding him. Truthfully, I couldn’t get the conversation with Alessandro out of my head. His words were tattooed in my brain. While his accusation wasn’t enough to talk me out of wanting Sal, it hung over me, taunting me with the possibility of it being the truth.
As badly as I wanted to ask Sal about his history with Lettie, I hadn’t found the courage to do it. If he confessed to having some sort of relationship with her, I didn’t know if I could get past it. I hated the thought of her having a claim on Sal, no matter how insignificant.
Even worse, I needed to tell Sal Lettie and Alessandro saw us, and that would bring up a whole other set of issues. Deep in my gut, I dreaded the possibility Sal would flake on me,
and I’d be on my own again, spinning my wheels, struggling to break free.
“Don’t exaggerate. I’ve talked to you. I even kissed you goodnight last week.” I drew one of my knees into my chest and wrapped my arms around it. “And my father’s been around a lot lately so it’s not as if we’ve had many opportunities to hang out or anything. It’s like he senses I’m going to take off and he’s watching me like a hawk.”
He crossed the room and sat on the edge of my bed. “Kisses on the cheek don’t count, but your dad’s gone all day today so you can kiss me all you want. I won’t complain.”
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry at the prospect of being around Sal uninterrupted for hours on end. He wouldn’t let me hide from him today without an explanation.
“So he said. Who knows, though? My dad could pop in here any second. You know how he is.”
“Did I push you too hard? Is that what this is about?”
I glanced at him quickly, then returned my attention to the tips of my gray painted toenails. “I’ve already told you I’m fine with what happened between us.”
“Fine with it.” He chuckled quietly. “Now that’s a ringing endorsement if I’ve ever heard one. Just so you know, my ego took a huge nosedive and it might never recover.”
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes, unsuccessfully fighting the urge to smile. “You didn’t push me into anything I didn’t want. In fact, it’s probably the other way around. You’re always saying no, and I’m always trying to change your mind. I think our roles have reversed.”
“I knew my sarcastic girl was still in there somewhere.” Wrapping his foot around the leg of my chair, he scooted me close enough that his breath grazed the side of my face. “Now are you going to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours or do I have to pry it out of you piece by piece?”
