by Ward, H. M.
"All but broke? I thought you had a trust fund?"
"I do. That's rich people speak for Pete Ferro is a moron and walked away from a multibillion-dollar empire. My trust fund is peanuts in comparison, but it's enough for me and you. I can't buy you a mansion—"
"I don't want a mansion. I just want you to be happy, Peter." My brains are starting to work again and I remember something Sean said. "Why did Sean think that I wanted something?"
"Sean always thinks everyone wants something. Just be glad he isn't riding with us. Come on. Let's get out of here. I'll grab you breakfast and we can head up to my mom's place and see what Jon did. It's not far from here. We can get to your parents' house by dinner." He pauses and shakes his head. "Maybe we should ditch Sean and head to your house now."
Peter is trying so hard to take care of me, and I adore him for it. For some reason the stuff with Sean feels like it's all or nothing. Peter wants his brother's help when I go home, and I want Dean to stay away from me. There has to be a reason why Sean is taking a detour to their mom's house, but I have no idea what it is. Either way, Peter needs Sean. "No, it's all right and we'd have to stop and grab lunch anyway. If you want to see Jon, we can go. Honestly, I'm not looking forward to what's waiting for me at home. Adding a few extra hours to the trip might help me deal with it a little bit better."
Peter presses his forehead to mine. "I'll help you through whatever lies ahead."
CHAPTER 21
The estate is breathtaking with manicured grounds spreading in every direction. An old stone mansion sits in the center of the property and sprawls as long as a city block. The house is nestled between the trees, and we have to take a long winding driveway to reach the front doors. I suppose it's so the house can't be seen from the road. I would have driven past it if Peter didn't tell me where to turn. I'm familiar with this part of Long Island, but I had no idea there were houses like this out here. I thought that most of the mansions were modern and on the south shore. Apparently there are rich people who prefer the other side of the island with the rocks and hills. The turkey notices that we stopped and cranes his neck to look out the window.
"What are we going to do with him?" I jab my thumb at the vulture in the backseat as I cut the engine.
Peter seems nervous, but he covers his apprehension quickly and walks around to open my door. We're in a circle drive in front of enormous wooden doors that form an arch at the top. It looks like a castle.
Okay, I'm just going to admit it. I had no idea this was Peter's life. He seems normal, and the people who live here can't possibly be average. Everything about the exterior of this house is larger than life. It makes me think of the inhabitants as royalty, not savvy businesspeople.
I glance at Peter. I have no idea how his family made money or where it came from. There are some people who were born with generations of wealth beneath them. That must be Peter's situation because I don't recall hearing anything specific. He's old money and he's in my crappy little car with a bird of prey in the backseat.
Nerves course through my body so fast that I can barely hold myself still. It's the Chihuahua effect. Those high-strung little dogs are always quivering. Peter offers his hand and pulls me out of the car. He leaves the door open, and the turkey hops out of the backseat and wanders off.
Peter grins at the bird. "Enjoy yourself," he says to the animal. A man appears out of nowhere and slips into my car. Peter left the keys in the ignition.
"Hey! What are you—" My voice is too high and panicky. The guy slams the door shut and starts to drive away. I try to lunge away from Peter, but he holds me back.
"Sidney, he works here. He's taking your car to the garages. You're not in the 'hood. Calm down." Peter has that knowing smirk on his face, like he realizes that I had every intention of running after my car. I nod and rub my hands over my arms.
"Sorry, I had no idea. I had no idea about any of this. What is your mother going to say about you and me? Should we even be here?"
Peter leans in and kisses the tip of my nose. "She'll think you're amazing, because you are. It's what you think of them that worries me." Before Peter can elaborate, a male voice hollers at him.
"Peter! Is that you? Holy shit!" The man is moving toward us from the side lawn. His walk turns into a sprint and then a full run. As he gets closer, I do a double take. Dark hair, bright blue eyes, and that same build as Peter and Sean. Unlike Sean or Peter, this guy is all smiles—full wattage with nothing held back. This man looks like he could easily run down the beach and never break a sweat. Every bit of him is toned, and running like that doesn't faze him at all. I expect him to stop when he's within a foot of us, but he doesn't. Peter gets steam plowed and pulled into a man hug. There's a lot of back slapping and a slew of questions.
"Where have you been? Are you all right? What are you doing here?" The guy steps back and looks Peter over. Joy is painted across his face, and he can't stop beaming. Peter has that half smirk he wears when he's excited and nervous. "Damn, it's good to see you, again!"
"You, too, Jonathan. You've grown up. I mean, look at you."
Jonathan grins, revealing a dimple that matches Peter's perfectly. His silky chestnut hair is a bit longer than Peter's and curls the slightest amount at the ends, giving him that sexy bedhead supermodels would kill for. The thing that's the most striking about him isn't the awesome hair, the chiseled features, or his radiant blue gaze—it's that smile. It's almost mocking and makes me want to talk to him more to find out what's caused that sexy smirk to appear on his beautiful face.
After a moment, Jonathan looks over at me. He brushes his hair out of his eyes and really sees me for the first time. He glances between Peter and me, quickly putting things together. "Where are my manners? Jonathan Ferro. I'm this guy's younger brother." He extends his hand, so I do the same, anticipating a firm shake, but Jonathan takes my palm and lifts it to his lips, and kisses the back of my hand. As I suck in a breath, my body goes rigid.
As I stand there in shock, thinking that rich people are weird, Peter laughs and slaps his brother away. "Cut it out, Jon! You're going to freak her out."
Jon grins at me, looking up from under dark lashes, and blushes slightly. "I'm just messing with you. So, Pete, who is this beautiful woman?" He tucks his hands under his arms after folding them against his chest. I glance between the two. They look so much alike, but the eyes are different. Although they are the same color, Jon's don't have that haunted look that Peter and Sean carry around.
Peter pulls me in front of him and wraps his arms around me, making it extremely clear that we are not friends, we're more than that. "This is Sidney Colleli. We're on our way to see her family in Jersey."
Jon blinks and the smile falls off his face. "Are you guys getting married or something? Because Mom won't give her blessing after—"
Peter cuts off his younger brother. "No, we're not engaged or anything like that." Peter sounds wistful, rather than horrified, which bodes well. He earned some points for not freaking out. "Actually, Sidney's mom is dying. We're meeting Sean here for lunch."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Sidney. That's rough." Jonathan takes a long, slow breath and looks at Peter. "Do you want your title back?"
Peter laughs like that's the funniest thing he's ever heard. "Hell no. You keep it."
"Did Mom know you were coming?"
Peter shakes his head. "No, I wasn't sure if I'd need to head this way, so I didn't say anything."
Jon gives his brother a delighted smile. "Well, you couldn't have picked a better day to stop for lunch. Dad has trophy number forty-seven here, and if Sean is coming—fireworks, bro. It'll be awesome! Come on."
I glance at Peter, wondering what Jon means, but the guy already took off. "Does he run everywhere?"
Peter nods. "Pretty much. That was my younger brother, the idiot—that's what my dad calls him."
"Nice." Actually, it's anything but nice.
"Yeah. Jon kind of earned a reputation for being, ah, how shall we say
this, impulsive. If he sees something he wants, he gets it. There's no forethought at all or at least not any that we've seen. He still acts like a kid, living life fast and hard. He wants every beautiful woman that crosses his path. If I wasn't standing here, he would have hit on you with a dazzling array of flattery. He's good like that, which is why he keeps getting himself in trouble. I hoped Jon would settle down a little when I left and take on some responsibilities, but apparently not. Sean wants to slap some sense into him. Jon must have done something crazier than usual this time."
I'm still caught on the fact that the Ferro brothers' features are so strikingly similar. It's like the three of them stepped out of the same mold. "How old is Jon? You guys look like triplets. It's kind of freaky."
Peter gives me a shy grin. "Yeah, we get that a lot. Sean is a little older, about a year, and Jon is about four years younger. He just started college when I left, so that makes him a junior next fall, assuming he went to class."
I smirk and look over at him as we walk toward that massive front door. Peter laces his fingers together with mine. I keep talking although nerves are filling my stomach. "I bet you always went to class, didn't you?"
"I'm the Goody Two-shoes of the family. Sean's the black sheep—or he sacrificed the black sheep when he sold his soul—and Jon's Jon. That pretty much sums it up."
"You're the straight-and-narrow brother? My God, who would have thought it?"
Peter laughs and squeezes my hand tight. "It's all in comparison, babe. Compared to Sean, I'm sane and civil. Compared to Jon I'm responsible and levelheaded. Compared to you, well, nothing compares to you so let's just say I'm lucky and leave it at that." He leans in and gives me a peck on the cheek.
CHAPTER 22
I'm sitting at a long table with light-colored linens. There's an enormous bouquet at the center with every shade of pink you can imagine. A long crystal stem holds the arrangement off the table so it doesn't block our line of sight. Brightly colored roses are the focal points with little crystals dripping over the sides—or maybe those are diamonds. The flatware is a matching shade of pale gold. I poke the knife with my finger, wondering how heavy it is.
Peter is seated across from me, and I'm right next to my favorite person again—Sean Ferro. As he lifts his napkin, Sean speaks softly so no one except me can hear his words. "Assessing whether or not it will fit in your purse?"
"Bite me."
"I'll have the guards strip-search you on the way out if any of the flatware goes missing."
What a dick. It's like he's trying to start a fight with me on purpose. I redirect my barb with a comment that should shut him up. "I see you messed things up with Avery. Smooth move, Ferro." I'm not calling him by his first name to his face. It feels too intimate, as if I actually like him or something.
I smile at Peter, who is glaring at Sean. Sean looks perfectly civil, but everyone knows it's a facade.
Sean's voice is flat. "She had to work."
I blink at him, shocked. Work means more clients, which means she's with another guy right now. Avery didn't want another guy; she wanted Sean. I shouldn't say it, but I can't help it. "What did you do?" I barely know Avery, but I feel so bad for her. Sean doesn't bother answering me, not that I thought he would. "She deserves better."
"Agreed." Sean's single word packs a punch, and I have no sharp retort. He doesn't look at me for the rest of the meal. The man is an enigma with a dash of psycho.
The Ferros have a tradition of requiring all the children to be seated first, prior to their parents. Peter told me that it's supposed to promote family unity or something like that. I'm surprised that Sean is here with us. He's been such a bastard that I can't imagine him bending to anyone's wishes. Jonathan leans forward with both his elbows on the table and looks completely bored. Maybe that kid is like a high-strung collie and prefers running over sitting. I wonder what his story is, what the guy did to piss off his entire family because Jon seems utterly calm considering his mother is going to throttle him at any moment. Then again, the despondent, emotionally disconnected thing seems to be a Ferro trait. All three of them have it to some extent, even Peter. As for Jon and Sean, that's where the similarities stop—well, except for the heartbreak stamp plastered across their foreheads. I wonder if Sean was given a warm greeting like Peter. If so, I didn't see it.
A few moments after we are seated, the patriarch enters the room. Mr. Ferro is well past his prime with silvery hair and a broad smile on his face. Fit isn't the right word to describe him, but he's not overweight either. To make matters more interesting, there's a woman on his arm who is close to my age. She's wearing a clingy silver dress that dips insanely low, showing off very ample cleavage. She smiles at the boys and waves the tips of her fingers at everyone except me.
Jonathan mirrors her little wave and winks, but the other guys ignore her as if she'll be gone in a week. I watch Jon straighten as his father walks into the room. At first I think it's out of respect, but the way Jon's eyes light up when he sees the mistress makes me wonder if the youngest Ferro is crazy enough to steal his father's girlfriend. Damn, and I thought my family is messed up. Where is Mrs. Ferro, and why does she put up with this crap? I'd like to ask that question, but I don't. Instead I sit still with a polite smile on my face and wonder why Peter came back here.
When Mr. Ferro sits down and spies Sean, he's surprised, but when he glances at Peter, he's stunned. His shocked features instantly morph into a huge smile. Mr. Ferro rises, steps away from Boobie Barbie, and rounds the table. Just as Peter stands up, Mr. Ferro gives him a bear hug similar to the one Jon gave earlier. "Pete! It's so good to see you!"
His dad shoots out more questions than Jon. Peter doesn't actually answer any of them. Instead he just smiles and nods. When his father glances at me, Peter takes that as his cue for the introduction.
"Dad, this is Sidney Colleli." Peter sweeps his hand in my direction. Sean completely ignores the introduction and keeps tapping away at the screen on his phone. He took it out as soon as he sat down. I glance at Jon quickly and get a flirtatious nod, complete with charming smile.
Mr. Ferro has an impressed look on his face. "So you're the woman who brought my son back to the land of the living?" He says it like I did something miraculous, like Peter was six feet under. Everyone is looking at me, Sean included.
Was Peter really that far gone? He didn't seem like it when I met him. I knew he was hurting, but the shock on everyone's faces to see Peter here and happy isn't lost on me. "He's a good man."
Sean sounds bored, like my words will make him fall over and go comatose. "Of course he is. He's a Ferro."
"And you!" Mr. Ferro gives Sean a severe look. "You missed your mother's birthday and every major holiday in between."
"My apologies," Sean replies, sounding completely apathetic. "I've been working." Sean is wearing a black sweater that looks to be made of silk and a pair of dark jeans. There are boots on his feet, and his hair is messier than usual. It's a strong contrast between the suit he wore last night.
His father is obviously irritated with Sean. He's about to say something when another voice cuts him off.
"Well, well. Both my prodigal sons have returned." An older woman with golden hair appears. It's cut short and tapered to her head in a fashionable style. The cold depths of her eyes make her appear soulless. There's no light on her face. Maybe she adopted Jonathan, because he's still smirking at the mistress like he plans on hitting on her after lunch.
Mrs. Ferro walks over to Peter slowly, assessing him. A cornflower-blue suit makes her appear regal and utterly proper.
Mr. Ferro's voice is civil, but there's a lot of tension, as if there are decades of unspoken words and worries. "Constance."
Mrs. Ferro inclines her head, but that's all. She walks past Peter without a second look and takes the seat at the head of the table. Mr. Ferro sits sandwiched between his wife and his arm candy. Every single one of them acts like this is totally normal. My mother would have stabbed
my dad with the salad fork if he cheated on her, never mind flaunting some bombshell and bringing her to lunch at our house. What the hell? I glance at Sean, but even he fails to comment on it. Oh my God, if this is normal, no wonder they're so messed up. The tension is so thick that it's choking me.
Mrs. Ferro looks up at me after placing her napkin on her lap. "Who are you?"
I glance at Peter. His mother is a scary woman. Her question sounds more like an invitation to leave. "I'm Peter's girlfriend." I can say that, right? It sounds stupid, but I suppose it's true.
Peter introduces me and is uncharacteristically quiet. His mother looks down her nose from across the table. "I suppose you're here to plead with me, then."
I glance at Peter and then Sean. Jon is smiling like everything is terribly exciting. I shake my head and correct her. "No, I'm not. Actually we're on our way to see my mother."
"Oh, so you're visiting other people's mothers, just not your own?" Her words are tack-sharp. Peter doesn't look up at her. God, no wonder why both Sean and Peter ran fast and far. The woman is horrible. She's an emotional black hole and anyone sitting next to her will be sucked dry. I glance at Mr. Ferro, wondering if that's why he's tethered to the hot chick.
I can't leave it alone. I know I should—Peter's mom has every right to be upset that her son ran off—but it's not like that. "My mother's dying, Mrs. Ferro. Peter wouldn't let me make the drive alone."
Mrs. Ferro stands. Without an explanation, she leaves the table and doesn't look back. Peter tells me that he'll be right back and follows after her.
Sean smirks. "Bravo. You pissed her off in less than five minutes. I don't think I've made her leave a room that quickly. And to think, I wasted all that time coming up with snarky remarks for number forty-seven down there. Apparently we just needed you."
"She said it like we're taking a joy ride to Atlantic City. There are other things going on." My throat is tight. I'm not explaining myself to him. "Excuse me." I get up and walk away from the table. I turn down a hallway and keep walking and have no idea where I'm going.
