Secrets She Keeps

by Amarie Avant

  Smile cocky, I do believe it’s time to present myself and take what rightfully belongs to me.

  “Valentino, mi amore! I've been looking for you, Caro,” My father’s oldest sister, Isadora, holds out her hands. Next to her is her daughter, Isabella, who has chosen a silk white-glove of a dress. But my aunt is dressed in black ruffles and lace, as if her ensemble should have been a testament of Tony’s disgrace for marrying without the family’s approval. I’ve seen aunt Isadora in similar attire when my dad married. Yet still, there’s a smile on her face. My observation is that she’s been persuaded by the pianist belting out a romantic tune in Italian, or God forbid Lolita has won her over.

  Isadora stands at all of five-feet, but embraces me tightly as I near. I bestow kisses on her cheek.

  “Zia, sei bellissima,” I tell my aunt just how beautiful she looks.

  “Oh no, no,” Isadora's much too modest to believe in her own beauty, but her weathered, olive colored face reddens just a tad as she smiles.

  I’m greeting Isabella with a kiss to the cheek when my aunt continues, “My little brother, his wife is very, very, very gorgeous. And her daughter! Valentino, we must introduce her to cousin Vinny.”

  Isabella laughs softly in my ear. “Yes, ma is spot on. Vinny would be a lovely match for Reese.”

  “Over my dead body,” I say, stepping back to glare in Isabella’s twinkling eyes. I turn a smile toward Isadora. My aunt has orchestrated at least a million matches and once was the town matchmaker in Cosenza, Italy when she and her twelve younger brothers and sisters were growing up. All of them save for Tony met and married their wives due to the luck granted by Isadora.

  I’ve heard word that my father, who isn’t the youngest sibling by far, had been on her list for years, but was much too introverted back then. He had to be mid-fifties when he met and caught the attention of my younger mother, it took a while for Isadora, as head of the family, to visit from Cosenza. Although our entire family has ample businesses in Italy, and she had money and time at her disposal. Despite the fact that my mother had as much culture and a wealth of education, her PhD in world studies didn’t excuse the fact that she wasn’t a native Italian. Mom was a blonde who so happened to have a few drops of Sicilian blood and lived in New York.

  I believe my mother was pregnant with me when Isadora made her first trip. Though my aunt treated me with the same love as her own, I might have been a few years old at the time my aunt felt obliged enough to grant her approval to my parents.

  I rub Isadora’s cheek and say, “Oh no, cousin Vincenzo is family. They’re related now.”

  Her soft, tiny wrinkled hand pats on top of my own. “Yes, yes. Vinny is only your second-cousin, Tino. It will work. Isabella, tell your cousin.” A woman not to be persuaded, she looks up at her daughter, who is almost an entire foot taller, and gives a quick nod for Isabella to stand in agreement.

  “Yes, cousin Vinny would love Reese I'm sure.” Isabella winks, and then her voice lowers, since Isadora has to wear a hearing aid. “Don’t be such a brat. Ma truly is right, Vinny will love the sweet, little Reese. And trust me, my ma has tried to hock Reese off on one of my knucklehead brothers, but I reminded her how taboo this would be, given how close we all are with Uncle Tony. Therefore, Vinny wins by default.” Isabella looks me up and down, fully aware of the forbidden relationship. “On the other hand, brat, you might just be correct in that Vinny is not a good fit, seeing that Reese has herself a ten-thousand-dollar suit. How much is yours worth, a meager five-kay?”

  “Oh yeah, okay,” I pat Isabella's shoulder as my aunt says, “Reese!”

  I turn around and Reese and The Stiff are standing there.

  Isadora takes Reese’s hands in hers. “I was just telling Tino, that you and Vinny would make a perfect couple.” My aunt, ever the touch-feely person she is, now clasps Reese's cheeks in her hands. Isadora has no qualms with making a love connection between someone who is betrothed to be married if she doesn't sense their connection, so she disregards Reese’s date.

  “Oh, you'll have to introduce me to Vinny,” Reese smiles, humoring my senile aunt.

  “Tino? Somebody’s cousin Vinny?” The Stiff says under his breath, “Who’s next, De Niro, Al Pacino?”

  Reese rolls her eyes.

  I grab his slender, soft hand, “I’m Tino. Valentino Evan Zaccaro.”

  “I...” His voice comes out in a screech, hand shaking just slightly due to overactive nerves and how tight my grip is.

  “Come again?” I lean in closer.

  “Grayson. Daniel. Vandecamp,” he chokes each word out one at a time.

  “So you're the chump dating my sister,” I say, head cocked just slightly.

  He glances down at our hands. The tips of his fingers are blood-red, puffed and pulsating. Then he gives me a pleading look. “Sort of.”

  I let his hand go. Grayson mouths an obscenity. His limp hand is cradled against his three-piece-two-button-suit. But, I suppose it’s the Italian in me because I’m just as touchy and feely as Aunt Isadora. My hands latch onto his shoulders, fingers clamping down onto frailty.

  “Sort of?” I inquire, head cocked just so, I stare him straight in the eye. “You don't strike me as a man who isn't full of… himself, Mr. Vandecamp. What is it, together or not?”

  “Together. We... We're together.” His gaze shifts to plead with Reese for help, but my aunt can talk for days. She's rather convincing and I'm sure she'll need a couple days to get Reese interested in my no-good cousin Vincenzo.

  While Isadora happily mentions that there’s a room with Reese’s name on it in her home, I let his shoulders go. He does one quick shoulder roll, thin lips set in a grimace.

  My smile is carved in cement by now, “You'll be good to her?”

  He slowly nods.

  “If I go through all the motions of welcoming you to the family, and you have no intentions–”

  “Evan, what are you two chatting about? Football?” Reese turns her attention to us. She glares at me, aware of the tension.

  I nod for Grayson to answer.

  “Ju... Just how much I love you, Reese.” Grayson barely gets the words out before clearing his throat. He teeter-totters in his leather shoes and this time does a double shoulder roll.

  She gives him a sardonic stare. “Well, have fun, chatting,” she mumbles.

  I think I see a fragmented smile on her face as she turns around and walks toward another set of family. Grayson doesn’t take her advice, nope, he runs along after her like one of those purebred pups.

  I want to inquire why Reese isn't happy about Grayson verbally saying he loves her. I don’t believe I abused him into professing such words. When he’d claimed to love her, there was no shift in his gaze as usual. No other nonverbal cues to implicate he just said the words for show. What's going on with these two? Something tells me that Reese didn't cheat on The Stiff with me. Would she bring the douchebag if he’d cheated on her?

  Of course, Reese is all mouth. The moment she advised that I should bring another date, I wanted to grab her by the ponytail, place her over my knee and give her ass a good thrashing. Yet to be accompanied by someone she detests is beyond me.

  Before she can reach the next set of family, I stalk over to them. A set of my cousins who’d connected eyes with Reese, begins to step forward. They cease what seemed to be the beginning of a comical dialogue when I grab her arm. I issue an order in her mate’s direction. “Grayson, go get my sister something to drink.”

  He eyes her and then me.

  She nods. “Yes, a mojito would be nice.”

  He sulks toward the open bar, and I invade the space between Reese and I. Not too close, but close enough to thwart any other person’s intentions to engage with us.

  “What are you doing?” She says, smile stiff, eyes scanning the veranda.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Okay, shoot.” Reese bites her lip. And as if to take the edge off her guilt of being tied to her stepbrother,
she adds, “Everyone is chatting.”

  “Not here.” My mouth caresses her ear as I growl. And then I’ve grabbed her forearm, guiding her down to the second level of the veranda, there’s one more deck before the ground level of tennis courts.

  The tartness has taken a nosedive as Reese murmurs, “Not a good idea.”

  “Who’s The Stiff?”

  “I'm sure Grayson made an effort to introduce himself with all of his accolades but then again you tried to break his entire hand then proceeded to massage his shoulders.”

  I chuckle softly. “You noticed.”

  “Hell yeah, I noticed,” she says, eyes continuing to rove around the place.

  “You don't like him.”

  “I assume that's not a question, Evan.”

  “Yes, but by all means, correct me if my body language analysis can use some brushing up on.” I pull her into an alcove area which is shrouded by palm trees. The neckline of her dress leaves me begging for more, my fingertips graze across her chest. “Oh look, you've stepped away from The Stiff and in my presence, your heartbeat has increased.”

  “Fuck yourself, Evan.” Reese slaps my hand away.

  “No can do, this hand wasn't meant to pleasure me, Reese. It was meant to pleasure you, and only you, babe.” I reach out. She swats me like an irksome fly. But my hand grabs onto her breast. The gasp crashing through those just parted lips liquefies into a soft moan as I twirl Reese before me. Her dress flies up in the wind.

  “Boyshorts,” I seethe, wanting to eye those gorgeous ass cheeks.

  But her ass is perfect none the less, it slams back toward my already hardened cock. Now my mouth scours the sugary taste of her neck.

  “Oh, looky here, Reese. You've got goosebumps. I must have that strong of an effect on you," I say snidely, kissing her shoulder. It's not that I want to come off as an asshole, and my emotions have never been toyed with until I set eyes on the lovely Miss Dunham. As my lips have their way with Reese's collarbone, she gasps.

  “I want you so fucking bad, Evan.”

  “That's exactly what I wanted to hear.”

  “Hmmm, what would you have done if I denied you?” Her tone is salacious.

  I bite her shoulder. She gasps. “You can be my bad girl when we get back to my place. No defying me, Reese.”

  She frowns as I lean over and allows my hand to skim down her chest once more. My cock again thumps against her buttocks. Sure discipline is stopping me from ripping her dress to shreds.

  “I’m going to tear this granny dress off your body, Reese,” I declare in her ear, “Then I’m going to spank your ass until it’s red…”

  “Oh God, please don’t stop, Evan. Tell me what you’re gonna do to me,” she pants, licking her lips.

  I push the flying wisps of hair from her face, and nudge a kiss onto her jaw since I can’t reach her lips from this position. “Those lips will be swollen, and I don’t mean because I’ve kissed you so hard, beautiful, I’m going to beat that beautiful, tight pussy of yours until you come all over my dick.”

  “Sheeeee…” She can hardly breathe.

  My hands begin to trek down this godawful dress of hers. “Jesus, I want to fuck you right here, Reese. Tell me I can fuck you right here, babe.”

  Her voice is but a moan.

  “Tell me, Reese,” I demand. “You’re aware that I do not need your permission, beautiful. I own you. I can have you right here, right now.”

  Her ass molds against my cock, and her legs shake. Voice a hushed whisper, she says, “Please. Here… NNNOW!”

  My fingers work their way against the silk of her panties. I push aside the material and my fingers spread her labia. My thumb courses against the nimble, tiny bud coaxing more juices when I know without a shred of doubt that her pussy is already my river.

  “Evvvv… Evan, fuck me,” she groans.

  My fingers plunge inside of her. “Soaking fucking wet, Reese. You are soaking wet for me.”

  I take my other hand and begin to unbuckle my belt as she bounces on my three fingers.

  “Evan, I’m gonna come, baby, it’s been so long since I came.”

  “Shhh,” I mouth into her messy hair. I pull down my zipper, and begin to pull out my cock. “Come for big brother, come all you need to.”

  She’s panting, my fingers are dripping wet, and my erection is damn near ready to burst. I’m just about to shift my cock inside of Reese but stop at the sound of footsteps.

  Faster than a speeding bullet, Reese readjusts her panties, and zooms away from my grasp.

  “What are you doing over here,” Grayson inquires, voice weighted with suspicion.

  From my position around the corner, it seems like she’s trying to coax him back toward the party. “I needed a fresh breath of air. Please don't...”

  Teeth bared, I lean against the fucking wall. Pre-cum shining under the moonlight. “Fuck,” I mouth loudly. I have never experienced the term ‘blue balls,’ and to hell if I undergo such tragedy tonight.

  Grayson’s voice is but a whine, “I thought you agreed with my apology, my love.”

  “Grayson, do not call me that. Ever.”

  Reese pauses, her chin brushes against her collarbone and then stays there, as if she’s stopped herself from glancing over her shoulder.

  “Alright, Reese," his voice is dense with defeat.

  My lips curve into a smile, as I delicately place my heavy-laden cock back into my pants. There must be something in the air, because his next statement is filled with a renewed confidence. "Very well, then I will win you back. You know, Reese, you never once said those words to me. I know you love me, and I have always loved you. We have very pertinent things to discuss, though, but one day you’ll be mine again.”

  My jaw clenches. Out of respect for Reese, I stay poised against the stone wall instead of assuring Grayson that their past will never become their future. And what does he need to discuss with her?

  While feeling the first pangs of jealousy since graduating from the eighth grade, reality slams into my chest. Grayson can make amends, he can turn her frown around, he can take her out and introduce her to associates, family, and friends.

  I can't.

  We’re old enough for the stepbrother-stepsister dynamic not to be an issue. Shit, it could be means for a fun conversation over a beer and a chat with friends. But Reese isn’t having it. I know within my heart of hearts, that Reese will continue to fuck me. She has no choice. But telling her I am in love with her out in public would have her mortified. I lean my head back, and take a deep breath. Though Reese has been vague about her upbringing, I have determined her father was an asshole. Most likely abusive and probably created a hostile environment for herself and her mother. Hence her inability to tell that bitch, Grayson, that she loved him when they were hot and heavy.

  Me? Reese has placed it in her mind that telling me she loves me is taboo. She won’t be able to utter the words until my father gets over his fetish with Lolita. Speaking of dad, we never had that conversation about his interest in his new wife or his knowledge of Reese’s father. I’ve called him a few times since Reese and I went to the ranch. He’d either be busy with Lolita or preparing for a board meeting at the museum.

  I step out of the shadows.

  Every step I make toward the lovebirds; I’m bombarded with cousin after cousin after cousin. This isn’t even all the Zaccaros. Some are too busy on the East Coast and then we also have the family in Cosenza who never had a desire to visit the States.

  My pops and his new bride wind up meeting me in the center of the lavish yard. This isn’t the time, nor the place to corner him for being so evasive as of recent. So I shake Tony’s hand, and then pull him in for a hug. “Congrats, old man.”

  He gives my back a hardy pat. “Thanks, Son.”

  An hour later, the hors d'oeuvres have been replaced by the main course. It took about thirty minutes for everyone to venture off the terrace and down toward the tennis courts.

 
There’s a collage of lilies and orchids entwined within the gate’s perimeter, and enough tea and tapered candles to start a Forrest fire. The servers have placed the second course, Italian wedding soup, which is fitting for the occasion, in front of our plates. There are calligraphy place cards, and I’ve been designated to sit with my favorite cousin, Isabella, and her crew of siblings. Isadora is to my left, and Bella to my right.

  When the servants bring the third course, poached salmon, Tony stands up at a sweetheart table across from us all, Lolita is at his side. He holds up a flute. “Firstly, I’d like to thank everyone for coming this evening; it means more than you will ever know for Lolita and I to have the ones we love and care about here to share this special day. Oh heck, we’re already married.”

  The truth spurs a round of laughter. Isadora has turned up her hearing aid, and is laughing at the top of her lungs.

  Once it grows quiet again, he says, “So let’s just call this the second special day in our life. The honor bequeathed to me to present my lovely bride to my family, it’s just enough to make an old man’s heart melt. I can honestly say it wouldn’t have been the same without each and every one of ya… it would’ve been a helluva lot cheaper, but that’s not the point.”

  Everyone laughs at that. Then Lolita stands beside him. Her entire facade is airy and in love. “Oh, Tony, you have made me the happiest woman alive! My family is small,” she continues. “It's been just myself and my little Reese for the longest.” As she begins to mention Reese's father my ears pique.

  At the circular table across from me, Reese arises abruptly. Grayson touches her arm, but Reese shakes her head.

  “My beautiful Reese was only ten when her father met his untimely death…”

  I’m taken aback for a moment, having imagined Reese as no more than a toddler. She’d said that her memory of him was vague at best.

  “Aren't you going?” Isabella inquires under her breath. There are undertones of worry, but my cousin’s primary interest is to boss me.

  “Yes.”

  Her eyebrow rises, waiting for me to make a move. After one of my great-aunts gets up to welcome Lolita into the family with open arms, I make my way to the inside. I grab the first server I see, and ask about Reese providing a quick description.