The Promise (The 'Burg Series)

by Kristen Ashley

  “Mrs. Zambino,” I called, and she looked back at me. I crossed my legs and held her eyes as I said straight out, “You were right.”

  “I’m always right,” she returned, and I grinned again. “But what in particular was I right about this time?”

  “Love is never wrong.”

  She studied me, but I could swear her eyes got soft.

  “I’m lucky,” I said quietly. “Havin’ an old woman across the street who’ll give me wisdom.”

  She looked toward her TV.

  “Mrs. Zambino,” I called again, and she looked to me. “It took a while, but you started it, so you gotta know: I look in the mirror now and see what you see.”

  Yes. Definitely. Her eyes were soft.

  “Frankie,” she whispered.

  “Do you know what I see when I look at you?” I asked.

  She pressed her lips together.

  “Pure beauty,” I said softly.

  That was when I saw her eyes get bright a second before I saw her chin lift and heard her mouth say, “If you think you can get into my will by bein’ sweet to me, forget it. I got enough girls fightin’ over my jewelry and handbags. I’ll pick a piece for you to get when I die and you’ll like it.”

  “Of course I will, you have great taste,” I told her.

  “I know I do,” she returned.

  That was when I burst out laughing.

  * * * * *

  The instant the waiter left our table, I grabbed my Champagne glass, glued my eyes to Benny across from me, put my glass to my lips, and belted it back.

  All of it.

  Benny burst out laughing.

  We were at Giuseppe’s. I was wearing a phenomenal dress I knew was phenomenal because we were late for our reservation, seeing as Benny banged me against the wall about a nanosecond after he saw me in it.

  We were there to celebrate our new kitchen, which was a bit crazy, seeing as I didn’t want to be in a restaurant. I’d had enough of restaurants and takeaway and microwave meals the last month Benny spent working on the kitchen.

  What I wanted was to use my fabulous new stove and stare into my scarily expensive, new stainless-steel fridge until it started beeping (then close the door, open it, and stare into the cavernous space again).

  But Benny wanted to celebrate at Giuseppe’s.

  And Giuseppe’s was Giuseppe’s.

  So who was I to say no?

  Ben reached to the Champagne bottle and started to refill my glass, saying, “Glad we had a good week at the restaurant so I don’t have to take out a loan to pay our check tonight.”

  Every week was a good week at Vinnie and Benny’s Pizzeria.

  But I didn’t say that.

  I said, “Most fortunate.”

  He shoved the bottle back into the bucket, then shoved his hand into his inside jacket pocket, all this saying, “Also glad business is steady so I could pay for the new kitchen I know you love but still bitched about, and so I could get you this.”

  That was when he set a diamond ring at the top of my place setting.

  I stared at the cushion-cut diamond surrounded with little diamonds twinkling in the candlelight. A ring that was not small or understated. A ring that was about flash and impact.

  A ring that was perfect for me.

  Then my eyes shot to Benny, the man who was perfect for me.

  His brows rose, but his eyes were locked to mine as his deep, easy voice asked, “Wanna spend the rest of your life with me?”

  My breath stopped.

  “Frankie?” he called.

  I didn’t move or speak. I just sat frozen in my chair staring at my Benny Bianchi.

  “Cara,” he whispered.

  “Did you have to ask?” I whispered back, and his lips curved up.

  “No.”

  “Will you put the ring on me?”

  That was when he gave me a full-on, beautiful Benny Bianchi smile.

  “Yeah.”

  I licked my lips and held out my hand.

  Ben reached out and picked up the ring. He slid it on my finger and, swear to God, I felt an electric charge over every centimeter of skin as he glided it to the base.

  When he was done, his fingers curled around the side of my hand with the pad of his thumb pressed to the diamond, but his eyes stayed on mine.

  “You gonna down another glass of Champagne?” he asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “You wanna do that after you kiss me?”

  “Most definitely.”

  We sat there, Ben holding my hand, his thumb pressed to the diamond he just laid on me, and neither of us moved. We just looked into each other eyes.

  When this lasted awhile, Ben prompted, “You wanna do that before the waiter comes back, interrupts the most important moment in my life, and pisses me off?”

  The most important moment in my life.

  God.

  Benny.

  I moved, but Benny didn’t let go of my hand and he continued not to let it go, even as I rounded the table and he shoved his chair back.

  We were in Giuseppe’s. This demanded decorum.

  But I didn’t care.

  I sat in his lap, slid the fingers of my free hand in his amazing hair, while he pressed the hand he held to his chest. Once situated as close as I could get to my man, I tipped my head and kissed my brand-new fiancé.

  When I was done, Ben didn’t let me up. He cupped the back of my head, pressed my forehead to his, and kept hold of my eyes.

  “Never loved another woman. Not in my life,” he said quietly, and my breath went funny. “Waited until I got it right,” he went on. His hand squeezed mine, he moved so the tip of his nose skimmed mine, and he finished, “I got it right.”

  God.

  Benny.

  “Honey,” I whispered.

  “Love you, Frankie,” he whispered back.

  “Love you too, Benny.”

  I watched his eyes smile, then this time, he kissed me.

  When he was done, he pulled an inch away and declared, “Told Ma I was givin’ you Aunt Mary’s ring. Gotta be you who tells her you didn’t want it.”

  I jerked back and snapped, “Benny!”

  Then I was jerked forward, held tight in his arms, in his lap, and I listened just as I felt Benny Bianchi burst out laughing against the skin of my neck.

  Oh well.

  Whatever.

  So Theresa would be mad at me about the ring.

  She’d get over it.

  * * * * *

  I sat curled in the corner of Gina’s couch in her living room, Sal in his armchair beside me.

  Benny was in the kitchen helping Gina get after-dinner coffees for everybody.

  This was because he was awesome.

  This was also because he was doing what I’d asked him to do before we went over to Sal and Gina’s for dinner.

  “Proud of that boy,” Sal said, and I looked to him. “Went large. My Frankie, she deserves a man who’ll go big.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about until he reached out and touched the kick-ass diamond on my finger that was on the hand I had lying on the armrest close to him.

  “Yeah, he’s awesome,” I agreed.

  Sal looked from my ring to my eyes, his warm with happiness for me, and he said, “Yeah.”

  I had to admit, I loved it that Sal loved Benny for me.

  And now it was time.

  “Speaking of my ring,” I started, straightening a little in the couch and turning fully to Sal.

  “Frankie, amata, it’s okay,” Sal said softly.

  “I—”

  “Gina and I understand.”

  “Sal, if you’d—”

  “We’re just glad Benny brought you over for dinner tonight so we could have our moment to celebrate your good news with the two of you.”

  “Sal—”

  He reached out his hand and curled it around mine. “Happy for you, Francesca.”

  “Can I say something?” I asked.


  He steadily kept my gaze and nodded.

  “I talked to Vinnie and Theresa.”

  “You don’t—”

  “Sal,” I cut him off quietly. “Please let me finish.”

  He shut up.

  “Benny talked to them with me.”

  When I said no more, Sal nodded.

  “They understand.”

  “It’s a joyous day for them, you and Benny, and Gina and I don’t—”

  I interrupted him again.

  “They understand and agree that, if you want to do it, you should give me away.”

  Sal went still.

  I went on.

  “It was Benny’s idea.”

  Sal stared at me.

  Suddenly, I felt funny.

  “Dad still isn’t talking to me, partly because I’m not talking to him, and anyway, he really didn’t earn that honor. But if that’s weird to you—” I began.

  That was when, suddenly, my hand was jerked, making my arm lurch painfully right before I was out of the couch, on my feet, and in Sal’s tight embrace.

  He still said nothing. He just kept hold of me.

  So I asked, “Can I take that as a yes?”

  He continued his silence, but he gave me a squeeze that took the breath right out of me.

  I took that as a yes.

  * * * * *

  “Your father is a horse’s ass.”

  This was said by Chrissy, who was sitting at the table next to me.

  It was Benny’s and my engagement party. A huge ’do that Vinnie and Theresa insisted we have since, once Sal agreed to take the honor of giving me away, he horned in and declared he was paying for the entire wedding. Benny and him got into it and the compromise was that Benny and I were going to pay for the rehearsal dinner and honeymoon.

  So when there was nothing left to pay for, Theresa lost her mind and declared we were going to have a huge-ass engagement party. She then set about planning it before she got the official go-ahead from Benny and me.

  Benny found this annoying.

  I liked parties and having a reason to buy a fabulous dress that would make my fiancé get hard, so I absolutely didn’t.

  “What’s this?” Cheryl asked, sitting with Chrissy, Cat, Violet, Asheeka, and me.

  I tore my eyes away from Keira, who’d brought up her very handsome young boyfriend, Jasper Layne, so she could show him off at the party, and looked to Cheryl.

  But Cat, holding her sleeping son, Sean, piped up first.

  “Enzo Senior, our not-so-illustrious dad, bein’ a moron. No surprise.” She looked to me. “It’s Nat who has my panties in a bunch.”

  Mine weren’t.

  I was hurt.

  Genuinely.

  I’d called to share the news and heal the breach. I did it, even though I had a feeling Nat wouldn’t be in a good mood, mostly because she was in the middle of a divorce, living with Ninette, and things weren’t going well.

  Nat being Nat, she had pushed it, but Davey beat the rap, what with the amount of damage he’d sustained and Nat not even having a bruise. But even before, his mom had bailed him out, then he’d kicked Nat’s ass out, changed the locks, and got a second job so he could pay for the attorney he hired to file for divorce.

  She was now working as a stripper, living with a mom who never grew up, and had lost the man she loved—all that on her because she made bad decisions. All she refused to grow up and see her decisions, and change the course of her life, so she just got bitchier.

  She was not feeling family love so when I’d called to heal the breach and ask her to be a bridesmaid, she told me to go fuck myself and, while I was at it, invited me to tell Benny to do the same.

  I told Benny and he not only heard my words, he got a look at my face as I was saying them.

  So he declared, “Now that bitch is dead to you and, tesorina, I mean that.”

  I couldn’t miss the look on his face when he was saying it so I knew he meant it.

  But the truth was, with that, it was up to Nat to heal the breach.

  She wouldn’t and that hurt.

  But that was her decision too.

  Ninette decided to side with Nat, mostly because she wasn’t paying any rent and knew where her bread was buttered.

  That didn’t hurt. I’d long since learned not to let Ninette’s selfishness dig deep.

  I’d asked Enzo Senior to come. He didn’t pick up my call so the invitation was extended on voicemail. He didn’t respond and I was okay with that because I wanted Chrissy and Eva there and I wanted to have a good time without any awkwardness, so in the end, he gave me what I wanted. Enzo Junior couldn’t come because he had zero money, considering how much child support he was paying. But my brother Dino and his family were there, as were Cat and hers.

  As was the rest of mine, the ones who were true, even if they weren’t blood.

  “Suffice it to say, our family’s messy,” I told Cheryl.

  “Whose isn’t?” she asked back, and everyone knew the answer to that.

  Nobody’s.

  Somehow escaping Art and Sela, who had been looking after her, Eva trundled over to her mom and slapped her hands on her thigh, then turned to me and slapped her hands on mine. This meant I picked my baby sister up, put her in my lap, and she shouted, “Fwanquee!”

  I smiled at her, dipped low, and skimmed my nose against hers.

  She giggled, caught sight of Vi, squirmed in my lap, and launched herself into Vi’s arms.

  Something about this made me search the room, and there I found Cal talking with Sal and Vinnie. I kept looking and saw Theresa, who was with Tandy and Kate, holding Angie.

  Cal’s back was to them. He had a beer in hand and his lips curved up at something Sal was saying.

  There you go. Cal had finally settled into happiness.

  And that settled happily in my soul.

  “News from the ’burg: Keirry’s boy’s dad is now very taken,” Cheryl told me, and I looked to her.

  “Yeah?”

  “Colt and Feb scenario,” she explained. “Apparently, he fell for a girl years ago. They broke up, now they’re back together and blissfully happy.”

  “Cool for him,” I said.

  “Another one bites the dust,” she replied.

  I smiled at her but caught sight of Eva out of the corner of my eye, launching herself my way and moved just in time to catch her.

  “I work in construction,” Cat stated, cottoning on to what Cheryl did not say but still did. “Lotta guys I could introduce you to.”

  “I live in Indiana,” Cheryl pointed out.

  Cat gave Cheryl a once-over, then replied, “They find total losers. Women…” She shook her head. “You would not believe. I think they’d do long-distance in order to get a live one.”

  “Haul out your cell, bitch, and program my number,” Cheryl ordered.

  Violet looked to me and grinned.

  I grinned back.

  After doing that, my gaze wandered from Violet to across the room.

  There, I saw Benny standing with Mrs. Zambino and half of her bowling posse. It looked like they were all talking at once, but Mrs. Zambino had a death grip on Benny’s arm, even though it appeared she was telling off one of her minions and doing it testily.

  But my man was looking at me.

  I did my best to hold my active sister safe against me, even as I lifted my fingers to my lips and blew him a kiss.

  He caught it and I knew this because, from all the way across the room, I saw his beautiful eyes smile.

  Or maybe I didn’t see it.

  But I knew it happened because I felt it.

  Strange how he could do that. Me sitting with my girls, surrounded by people I love, celebrating my engagement to the best man in the world, holding my baby sister against me, all of that a promise fulfilled, and he did it again.

  With just a look and a feeling.

  Making another promise come true.

  * * * * *

  I s
igned the room service bill and, staring at it, suddenly froze.

  There it was. In black ink.

  Francesca Bianchi.

  I came unfrozen and I did this in order to smile.

  Huge.

  I handed the bill to the staff member with his tip. He dipped his chin and walked out the door. I opened it behind him and resecured the “Do Not Disturb” sign.

  “Jesus, Frankie, you answered the door?” Ben growled, and I turned to watch him walk in, towel around his hips.

  Eyes to the prize.

  There was my prize. Mine to keep for always.

  Benny.

  “You were in the bathroom,” I pointed out.

  “Yeah, for two minutes.”

  “I need Champagne.”

  “And you couldn’t wait two minutes?”

  “No. And it’s rude to make someone wait outside a door for two minutes, not to mention he might have walked away.”

  “You’re in a nightie,” Ben pointed out.

  “I’m sure he’s seen women in less,” I returned, then noted, “You’re in a towel.”

  “I’m a guy. Was he a guy?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes moved the length of me in my little, lacy, clingy, ivory nightie.

  “Christ,” he muttered, going to the Champagne.

  I looked to the windows.

  Vi was right.

  Virgin Gorda was awesome.

  Or at least it looked that way.

  Maybe, before the end of our two-week honeymoon, Ben and I would see more of it than what we could see from our hotel room window.

  Though, I wasn’t holding much hope for that since we’d already been there four days and we hadn’t left our room.

  I heard the Champagne cork pop and looked to my husband.

  He was looking at me.

  “You wanna dirty a glass?” he asked, holding the bottle by its neck.

  “No way,” I answered.

  He grinned at me.

  Then he stalked me.

  I retreated.

  Straight to the bed.

  * * * * *

  Ben handed the menu to the waiter and looked across the table at his wife.

  Big hair. Dark makeup. Beauty by candlelight.

  Then he looked down at her full glass of Champagne, something she hadn’t touched in all the time since the waiter put it in front of her, they looked over their menus, the waiter came back, and they ordered.

  “Not gonna try to break the record for fastest single-person consumption of a bottle of Champagne tonight?” he teased.