Accidental Witness

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Accidental Witness Page 11

by Sam Mariano


  “Uh, sort of,” he says. “Her mom’s a maid. Maria. Cherie helps out.”

  “So, she lives here?”

  “In the servants’ quarters,” he says with a nod, reaching for his wine to take a sip.

  “There are servants’ quarters?” I question, watching him with wide eyes. Now that he’s had a drink, I think I might, too. I thought maybe Elise poured it by mistake, but Mateo doesn’t seem to care.

  Biting back a smile, Vince says, “I’ll take you on a tour after dinner.”

  “I have so much to learn,” I say, under my breath.

  “That’s an understatement,” Adrian murmurs.

  ---

  After dinner, Vince gives me the tour, as promised. There’s an indoor pool for when it’s too cold to swim in the one outside, a gym, an obscene number of suites for family members to live in, a library, a movie theater room, and so many other rooms that many of them are practically empty. When we get to the servants’ quarters, it gets homier. I wasn’t sure what to expect of a servants’ quarter, but it’s basically a house within a house. There’s a separate hallway behind the kitchen leading to it, and like a house, it has a living room, dining room, and kitchen all in an open space. Down a hall there are four bedrooms and two bathrooms, all occupied.

  “Who all lives here?” I ask him.

  “Marie, Cherie, Elise, and Mateo’s nanny, Ju.”

  “Mateo’s nanny?”

  Nodding, he tells me, “He has a daughter, Isabella.”

  “She wasn’t at dinner,” I say with a frown.

  “She takes dinner with the nanny.”

  “Well, I didn’t even realize he was married. His wife wasn’t at dinner?”

  “He’s not. They were never married, but Beth isn’t around anymore.”

  I wonder why, but I don’t ask. He goes to lead me out, but I glance back, noticing a staircase. “What’s upstairs?”

  “Mateo’s dad.”

  My eyes widen in surprise. “He keeps his dad with the servants? Isn’t he the actual boss of the family?”

  “Until he dies,” Vince verifies. “There’s no love lost there. Mateo’s… Mateo, but his dad was a real lunatic. He didn’t even want anything to do with this life when he was younger, but he ended up married to a woman who didn’t love him and she eventually cheated on him, got pregnant, no one knew who the dad was—I guess the whole situation sort of made him… cruel. I could tell you horror stories about what he did to her and Mateo’s mom, but I’ll spare you. Suffice it to say, they’re both dead, and Mateo’s mom killed herself just to get away from him.”

  “Jesus,” I whisper, feeling an unexpected swell of sympathy for Mateo. “How old was he?”

  “Five. And he found her.”

  My stomach starts to feel ill just trying to picture what that must have been like for such a young child. Sadness washes over me, sort of ruining me for the tour.

  “Why don’t we do the grounds outside tomorrow after dinner?” I suggest, knowing that’s next. “I actually do have some homework before bed, and I’d kind of just like to chill out for a little bit. It’s been a long day.”

  He tucks me into his side, dropping a kiss on top of my head. “Yeah, it has.”

  ---

  Funnily enough, Vince and I spend our first full night together not having sex. After I finish my homework, we cuddle on the couch and watch some TV. When he loses interest, he starts pestering me until we’re kissing and touching, but it’s less sexual and more comforting just to be with each other.

  I obviously didn’t bring anything to sleep in, so he gives me one of his T-shirts for tonight.

  When we turn off the lights and climb into bed, I curl up in his arms and we talk until I drift to sleep.

  Waking up the next morning is a little jarring, because I’m not used to waking up in strange places. Vince is already in the shower, and when he gets out, he tells me there’ll be breakfast waiting downstairs.

  Breakfast is usually a Pop-Tart, a bowl of cereal, or a cup of yogurt, depending on how much time I have. Breakfast at Vince’s house is eggs with bacon, home fries, toast, and little bowls of fruit. Also orange juice poured from a crystal decanter. It’s a hard life.

  Mateo’s not around, but Cherie is at the table this time, studying some handwritten notes while she eats. She doesn’t even look up when I come in.

  “Vince didn’t leave already, did he?” I ask, since I expected him at the table.

  Finally looking up, she says, “Oh, no, not yet. He’s in with Mateo.” After another minute of studying her notes, she finally stuffs them back inside a folder. “How was your first night as a mob wife?” she asks, lightly.

  I laugh shortly, caught off guard. “I wouldn’t call myself a mob wife, but last night was nice. Much nicer than the early parts of the day,” I add, derisively.

  “Yeah. I’m glad it more or less worked out for you, though. I don’t know all the details, but I know Vince was really worried about Mateo ever finding out about you.”

  I stab a quartered strawberry, not offering anything more on that since my life sort of depends on my discretion.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Wait, you want me to have dinner with who?”

  It’s been weird trying to explain this to my mother, but since I have to leave soon for dinner at Vince’s (and I assume Mateo is expecting a response), it has to be done.

  “It’s Vince’s cousin. He’s Vince’s guardian, I guess. Vince doesn’t live with his parents.”

  “Who raises him?” she asks, frowning.

  That’s a good question, actually. Though, thinking back over the wine and the lack of weirdness about him having his girlfriend sleep over in his bed, it doesn’t seem like they treat him like a kid.

  Shaking my head slightly, I say, “Anyway, can you go or not? He wanted me to invite you, and I’ll have to let him know tonight so he can make arrangements.”

  “That place is expensive,” she tells me, clearly wondering if I’ve lost my mind.

  “He’s paying. They have money.”

  “Well, yeah,” she says, since that much is obvious. “Gee, I don’t know, Mia. Is this safe? I always heard that family was bad news.”

  Safe was too strong a word to use, considering I’d spent much of the night before lying in bed, remembering how it felt to have Mateo’s gun resting on my forehead. Instead of that, I say, “It’s safe. It’s fine. You’ll like him.”

  I expected her to agree, and she doesn’t disappoint. She did have plans with Brax, but the prospect of dolling up to go entertain a mob boss at a restaurant she can’t afford is more excitement than she can resist. Once she agrees, I tell her I need to borrow a dress for dinner tonight, and go to raid her closet.

  As soon as I get out of the shower, however, Mom is outside the door, practically bouncing with excitement.

  Tucking my towel, I frown at her. “What is wrong with you?”

  “I don’t think you need to borrow a dress,” she says, sing-song.

  “What?”

  Flashing me an exuberant grin, she takes off down the hall. I follow, warily. On the couch, there’s a Nordstrom shopping bag and two garment bags draped across the back. A note is tied around the handle of the bags, a rich, creamy business card with gold edges. In bold black, it says simply:

  “Open it, open it,” my mom says, more excited than I am.

  I roll my eyes at her, but I can’t stifle a smile myself. It’s not often I get presents, and I have a good feeling about these ones. Peeking inside, I find two shoe boxes. I pull out the one on top, labeled Jimmy Choo. My mom is already losing her shit, and I haven’t even taken the lid off to see what they look like.

  “Do you know how much those cost?” she demands.

  They’re beautiful—a burgundy-purple suede pair of heels.

  My mom grabs them, inspecting them like they might be fake. I move on to the second box, but I don’t need to read the name to know what kind they are—the bold red soles of the
shiny black pointy toe pumps tells me right away they’re Louboutins. They’re also instantly my favorite, with a fancy criss-cross strap on the front

  “I’m wearing these,” I tell her.

  “Tonight or tomorrow?”

  “Both. To school. To buy groceries. When I die. Forever. I’m never going to take them off.”

  Grinning, she takes them and admires them with a series of little gasps as she rotates them, admiring them from every angle.

  There’s a dress in each garment bag, one a short, dark blue sequined dress I’ll have to pour myself into, the other a nude fit and flare dress with black lace overlay and a plunging neckline.

  “He done good,” my mom announces solemnly.

  “Oh yeah,” I say, nodding in agreement.

  “You’ve only been dating a month, right? I think he spent more on you right here than Brax’s spent on me ever. Marry this boy.”

  I roll my eyes at her, but I can’t hold back a smile, holding up my very own pretty dress.

  ---

  For some reason, instead of sending Vince, they send a town car to pick me up. I can only imagine it’s to impress my mom, and boy, does it work. She stands on the front porch with her eyes popping out of her head, practically salivating as I climb into the backseat in my pretty new dress and sky-high Louboutins.

  I allow myself to get excited on the drive over, and by the time I get there, I feel like Cinderella at the ball. The driver even opens my door for me.

  Adrian answers the door, Elise trailing behind him. “I was coming!”

  Smiling at her affectionately, he says, “You do enough.”

  She smiles warmly, lightly touching his arm before she turns to head back to whatever she was doing.

  “She’s pretty,” I remark, none too innocently.

  For some reason, I don’t expect him to remain soft, and say, “Yeah, she is.” Missing a beat, he asks, “Looking for Vince?”

  “I am.” On impulse, because I feel like he’s more human right now, I do a little twirl and point to my shoes. “Like my new outfit?”

  “Very pretty,” he says gruffly, with an obligatory nod.

  I beam and follow him, but I slow down when he heads for the study.

  “Is he with Mateo? I should probably wait.”

  “Nah, come on in. We’re not doing anything important.”

  There are more of them tonight—Mateo perched on the edge of his desk with a glass of amber liquid, Alec from the night before in one of the arm chairs around the area rug, a third guy I haven’t met—but clearly a Morelli, by the look of him—pouring himself a drink from a crystal decanter. Vince is in an arm chair across from Alec, and without more than a moment’s hesitation, I run over and hop in his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck and showering his face with a bunch of little kisses.

  The guy I don’t recognize laughs, saying, “Vince’s girlfriend, I presume?”

  “That’s her,” Mateo confirms, voice laced with amusement.

  Vince grins at me as I finally pull back, shifting the drink I didn’t notice in his hand. Thankfully he didn’t spill any of it on me. “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s that for?”

  “You’re the best,” I tell him, simply. “You deserve a million face kisses.”

  “For?”

  Eyes widening, I lean back and indicate my whole body. “The dresses. And the shoes—oh my God, I’m going to marry these shoes. Thank you so much.”

  He hasn’t stopped smiling, but it’s certainly dimmed, and there’s a crease of confusion in his brow. “What are you talking about? What dress? This dress?”

  My enthusiasm stops short. The room has gone quiet. Adrian passes behind Vince and I glance at him, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. I glance at the next man I can see, the newcomer, clearly in the dark, but paying attention as the scene unfolds. Then I look at Mateo, and he’s the only one still amused.

  Stomach sinking, my smile finally falls.

  Raising his glass in my direction, Mateo winks. “You’re welcome.”

  The silent tension in the room grows, and I slowly look back at Vince, pasting on a more apologetic smile. “I guess I should’ve asked,” I murmur quietly.

  Shaking his head very slightly, he says, “Natural to assume the person you’re sleeping with is the one buying you gifts.”

  Instead of having the decency to feel bad for Vince’s discomfort, Mateo tells me, “I’ll take an I.O.U. on the million face kisses, by the way. Seems like we’d be late to dinner otherwise.”

  He doesn’t shove me off his lap, like he probably wants to, but Vince does throw back the rest of the liquid in his glass.

  I wish I didn’t feel trapped in his lap now. Getting up feels like a rebuff, but sitting here while this awkwardness lingers is pure torture.

  Adrian takes Vince’s glass and refills it, bringing it right back.

  “Good man,” Vince says, putting a good dent in that one, too.

  Another tense minute passes before I give up. Leaning in to give him one last kiss on the cheek, I say, “I’m gonna go see if they need help in the kitchen.”

  “The maids have it under control,” Mateo says.

  “Then I’m going to pee,” I reply, promptly.

  “Bathroom’s broken.”

  “Then I’m going to drown myself in the pool.”

  Smirking, Mateo says, “Have Elise grab you a towel.”

  ---

  Vince is in a pissy mood for the first part of the night, and he’s a little drunk for the second half. I’m still tense through dinner because of it, while Mateo seems quite content. The newcomer’s name is Joey, and apparently he is another of Mateo’s brothers. Elise comes around, but Mateo ignores her tonight, so Adrian doesn’t join Vince in being pissy.

  I feel like I’m going to need a notepad in order to keep track of the politics in this family.

  Francesca makes things worse, innocently remarking, “I like your dress, Mia.”

  “Yeah, it’s great,” says drunk Vince.

  Mateo just grins, taking a sip of his wine.

  It’s not like I ever doubted he was an asshole, but… yeah. The worst part is, it was a nice thing to do, buying me the dresses, but now that I’ve inadvertently humiliated Vince in front of half his family, I can’t even bring myself to thank Mateo. He couldn’t have known I would make such a spectacle, but he did know Vince said he would buy me new dresses when it came up the night before.

  I’m a little embarrassed I didn’t know my own boyfriend’s handwriting from Mateo’s though. He’s never written me anything, and I’ve never even peeked at his notes in class. Mateo could have also signed his name to the card so I knew who they were from, so it’s hard to imagine there wasn’t a certain calculated edge there.

  I won’t let him trick me so easily again.

  ---

  Mateo sends another car to drive me and my mom to the restaurant in the city.

  Brax is watching the kids for the first time, and I imagine them all bro-ing out on the couch, watching football and drinking beers. Mom assured me she whipped up some mac and cheese for dinner before she left, so there was no chance the kids would starve.

  “This is so exciting,” she tells me, conspiratorially, once we get to the restaurant. It’s a nice evening, so we didn’t bring coats, but there is a bite to the wind. Since we didn’t drive though, we’re dropped off right by the door.

  All the way here, she’s drilled me. What are they like? Do they seem like a crime family? How rich are they, anyway?

  I don’t know how to describe the strange culture of the Morelli family, so she has to yank even brief responses out of me.

  Vince and Mateo are already waiting when we get there. Since I wore the other dress already, I’m in the sequined minidress. It’s sexier than I realized at first sight, and it makes my legs appear to go on for days.

  I’m still wearing the Louboutins; I don’t care if they caused trouble, nothing can come between our love.

>   “Oh, wow,” she murmurs, when she spots them at the table. “That is a handsome man.”

  I know she’s talking about Mateo, since she already knew what Vince looked like. I don’t burst her bubble, telling her that he’s also a dick.

  “Hi!” she says, approaching the table with way too much excitement. She’s already embarrassing me, and we haven’t even sat down yet.

  Mateo stands, offering her a warm smile and shaking her hand as he introduces himself. Vince offers me a tepid smile, his gaze lingering on my dress a little too long. I can’t tell if he’s thinking I look good in it, or thinking about where it came from.

  I don’t roll my eyes as Mateo pulls out my mom’s chair for her, but considering she’s already as smitten as a school girl, it’s difficult.

  Turns out I didn’t have to spend all that time wracking my brain, trying to figure out what any of us would talk about at this dinner, because Mateo carries us completely. It feels like he and my mom are on a date, with Vince and me awkwardly chaperoning.

  Once she’s drained her second martini—and he’s already ordered her a third—Mateo offers my mother the dessert menu and steeples his hands on the table.

  “Shelly, I’m so glad we could get together tonight. It’s been a real pleasure meeting you.”

  “I know! It has been. You’re nothing like I imagined. I’m so glad we came, too,” she gushes, mooning at him.

  “There is one more thing I’d like to discuss with you, though. I wanted to wait until you had a pretty good feel for me, but I think you’re pretty comfortable with me,” he says, with a coaxing, in-joke smile.

  My mother laughs, delighted. “Oh yes, I’d say so.”

  “That’s good,” he says, finally glancing over at me. “The main reason I wanted us to get together here tonight is because I have a wonderful opportunity for Mia, but I wanted to run it by you first, make sure you’re on board.”

  “Oh?” Attempting a more serious tone to match his, she leans on the table. “Okay, I’m all ears.”

 

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