by Piper Rayne
“I ran into Enzo and he asked me to come.”
“Why did you?”
“Right now, I have no clue.”
He slowly applies pressure to my elbow, directing me to turn around and face him. “Stay.”
I stare at him for a moment and nod. “Okay.”
“Thanks,” he says and steps aside, waiting for me to head back in front of him. When I do, he places his hand on the small of my back.
To anyone else, it’d mean nothing. We’re Italian, and Italians touch one another. But we’re stuck in this growing cyclone whirling around and around, finding one another one minute and swearing off each other the next. We’re not made for stable ground, but I crave it just the same.
After a night of laughs and good food with the Mancinis, Dom put me in a taxi and sent me back to my hotel. I fell asleep dissecting everything he did or said. It was one of those nights that made me think we’d be great together. Until right before he closed the cab door and told me he’d handle the dissolution of our marriage when he got back to New York and would be in touch.
Now I’m sitting in the airport, praying we’re not all on the same flight. My phone ringing distracts me.
“Hello,” I answer.
“Hey,” Lulu says.
“How are the kids?” I ask.
“I don’t call you to talk about my kids unless they’re pissing me off. So how was Vegas? Do anything crazy?”
“You know what they say, ‘What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.’”
“Except you tell your best friend. I have three kids under the age of eight. Throw me a bone here.”
I exhale. “I saw the Mancini brothers.”
There’s dead silence, and let me tell you, Lulu is rarely quiet. “All of them?”
What she’s really asking is whether or not I saw Dom, while at the same time telling me that if I did, I’d better have kicked him in the balls for her. “Yes.”
“How are Enzo and Carm?” she asks. “Blanca there too? Let’s just talk about those Mancinis before my blood pressure gets any higher and they have to induce.”
“Someone’s in a mood.”
“I told Vinny if he knocks me up one more time, I’m going to give him the vasectomy myself and there’ll be no local.”
I laugh.
“His ma told him that birth control is bad, but if we’re so insistent, then it should be on me. She actually said that he should leave his options open.”
“I thought Catholics were against divorce?’ I joke with a chuckle.
“Only when they wanna be, I guess.” A little voice comes up behind her and asks her something. “Daddy can do it.” I hear more whining in the background. “I swear he’s fully capable. Go and give him the pouty lip.”
I laugh, a little jealous of the life my best friend has. Yeah, it’s crazy, but Vinny loves her so much and their kids are adorable. Here I am with a fifteen-year-old who acts as though hugging me is the same as petting a wild lion. My little guy is grown and doesn’t need me anymore.
“Now, where were we?” Lulu says, getting back on track. “Oh yeah, tell me you got some good sex in Vegas and share all the details. Because the only thing I got is Vinny nailing me Sunday morning in the bathroom while we pretended we were showering before my ma came over to grab us for church.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Bullshit. I know you.” I hear some water running in the background then the sound of a bell or an alarm of some kind. She’s probably doing laundry or a million other things while talking to me.
I pick at a piece of imaginary lint on my T-shirt. “Why would I lie?”
“I’m thinking it’s because you slept with Dominic Mancini. If that’s the case, spare me the details.” There’s annoyance in her tone, and I haven’t even been honest with her about what happened.
I squeeze the phone a little harder and confess my sins. “I did sleep with him, but I also married him.”
Nothing has felt more freeing than releasing those words into the world.
“Haha. Funny.”
“I’m serious,” I say.
“What?” There’s some commotion on her end of the phone, then she says, “I’m fine. Auntie Val is just playing a game and it’s not a very funny one.”
“I wanna play,” one of the kids says.
“I’m not playing a game. At the moment, I’m Valentina Mancini.” I shouldn’t like the way that sounds, but how many times did I write that on my notebooks during high school?
“It does sound better than your maiden name, but you should’ve gone after Carm or Enzo.”
I’m silent because she knows why that would never happen.
“But your eyes were always on Dom. Stupid, ego-driven, workaholic Dom.”
“Lulu,” I sigh.
“I know. I know. I’m sorry, I just can’t believe it. What are you gonna do now that you’re married? I’m assuming a lot of alcohol went into that decision. Then again, knowing the two of you, maybe not.”
This is Lucia. I trust her with my biggest secrets, and this one is the biggest of them all. If word gets back to Ma about me being married again… I can’t even imagine. A daughter with two divorces? The shame. The guilt. The despair.
“Give him a break. He really is a good guy.” I cross my legs and check the sign with my boarding time because I want to get out of this place.
“I know Dom is a good guy. He just doesn’t know where his priorities lay.”
“He gave me space to make my decision.”
I can’t fault Dom. We’d promised one another a no-strings hook-up that was all about sex and not at all about feelings. We were doing so well until last summer in the Hamptons. Then my ex came knocking and asking for a second chance.
“Like a doofus,” Lulu says.
“Doofus,” a little voice mimics.
“That’s not a word for you to say,” she says.
“See? You’re not being a very good role model.”
“Please. Gia said fuck yesterday. We’re not doing a stellar job, but they’re alive and healthy.”
This is why I love Lulu. While I tried to follow all the rules with Ryder, Lulu has a two-year-old who still uses a bottle and a three-year-old who sleeps with her every night and has yet to go to preschool because she can’t get him potty-trained. I guess the best of friends are opposites.
“Well, she is her mama.”
“I say she’s Vinny.” Lucia laughs. “Okay, I have to get back on the mom clock, but have a safe flight and call me when you get back because I want all the details.”
“Needless to say, this stays between us.”
“Well duh.” One of her kids cries in the background. “Hey, Val?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think that maybe…”
“No, Lulu, it’s not a sign that we’re meant to be together. It’s just a sign that we need to cut the cord between us before one of us never recovers or we take down the whole world while trying to make something happen that shouldn’t.”
She sighs. Because she and Vinny found each other young, she believes you can actually find your soul mate when you’re still a child. It’s just not as easy as movies make it out to be, though I wish it were.
“See you soon.”
“Love you,” she says.
“Love you.”
I click off and pull up Ryder’s name to send him a text message.
Me: I’m about to get on the plane. Dinner tonight? Sushi?
Ryder: (a thumbs up emoji)
That about sums up our mother-and-son relationship these days. Not that I expect a fifteen-year-old to have a lot of conversation with his mother. When I was his age, all I thought about was boys. One in particular. Guess not much has changed.
Chapter Five
Dominic
* * *
I might be the only person who comes into work on Monday morning in a good mood. I’m usually happy to start a new work week, but today my mood is soured becaus
e my first line of business is calling a lawyer. A divorce attorney, to be exact. Whether they’re any good is a mystery because I can’t ask for a referral from someone. Which leaves my fate in the hands of Google.
I press the button on my phone that connects directly to my assistant’s. “Ash, hold my calls.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Mancini.”
Ash is a professional. I could ask her for a referral, but I can’t take the chance of this getting out.
I pick up the phone and dial the number on my computer screen. The ad looks professional and the reviews are mostly positive. A receptionist answers and puts me on hold before I can get a word in. I hang tight while listening to the music, leaning back in my chair. I grow impatient after a minute or so, and my gaze wanders to my office window, where I see my co-worker Nell approaching.
My eyes catch hers, and a small smirk tilts the corners of her lips. She takes liberties with the dress code here. I’m surprised HR hasn’t spoken to her yet about her short skirts and blouses that dip too far down. She’s flirtatious and doesn’t play hard to get if you get my drift.
She stops in front of Ash, who probably knows exactly what’s transpired between the two of us since she’s my assistant and smarter than most. I see Nell’s curves and sultry demeanor and all I can think of is Valentina. She’d never carry herself like Nell. Whether that’s good or bad, I don’t know, though my gut says it’s a good thing.
The timer on my phone says I’ve been waiting a few minutes now. Any company who keeps me waiting that long can forget my business.
I hang up as Nell bypasses Ash, walking into my office uninvited. Ash stands, obviously saying something to Nell, but I raise my hand that it’s okay. Nell shuts my office door behind her and stands there as if she’s my favorite vice and ready to tempt me.
“How was Vegas?” she asks.
I’m not immune to Ash’s displeasure as she slowly turns around and sits at her desk. She’s judging us both.
I lean back in my chair. “Good.”
“Miss me?” She swings her hips, placing one leg in front of the other until she reaches my desk. It’s seductive, but something feels different from when I saw her last week.
“It was a bachelor party in Vegas. I was shoulder-deep in strippers.” I laugh it off because truth is that I didn’t think of Nell once while I was away. Shitty, I’m aware.
“And none of them made you wish I was with you? Maybe I could have given you a lap dance with the stripper.” She sits in the chair in front of me, crossing her legs and arching her back.
“I didn’t get a lap dance.”
Yeah, I’m dodging.
“You’re making me sad.” She puts on a frown to match her baby voice.
I did find this appealing at some point, right? “Sorry, I’m swamped with work, what with taking some time off. Don’t have time to chat.”
Her gaze scours my body for a sign that I’m interested. I’m not at the moment because I have to figure out how to get unmarried before I entertain sleeping with Nell again. If that’s even something I want to do.
“My place tonight?” she asks.
“Can’t. Work. But later this week maybe.” I can get a quickie divorce by Friday, right?
“Don’t play cat and mouse with me, Dom. I don’t do the chasing.” She stands and exits my office, swaying her hips so hard I’m surprised she doesn’t need to make a chiropractor’s appointment.
I’m dialing the next divorce attorney with a high rating on Google when my cell phone rings. Valentina. I hang up my office phone, walk over to my office door and shut it, then swipe my finger across the screen.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Hey.” Her soft voice holds a hitch as though she’s upset. Unfortunately, I can probably decipher when she’s upset easier than when she’s happy. But that comes from trying to be her savior most of my life.
“What’s wrong?” I sit back down in my chair.
“Other than the fact that we got married this weekend and I’ve spent all morning trying to find out if we can claim drunken ignorance and get this annulled rather than get an actual divorce?”
“Yeah, other than that.” I find my lips turning up in a smile.
“Max is…” She stops, for which I’m thankful. I don’t want to hear about her ex-husband as if I’m her friend. I haven’t been just her friend since we were teens. Her soft sigh rings through the phone. “Anyway. Wouldn’t you prefer to get the marriage annulled?”
“What did Max do?” I ask. What can I say? Old habits are hard to break.
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
“Val,” I sigh. “You can always come to me to talk regardless of anything.”
“Just forget it. I found an attorney who will help with the annulment. I know it sounds stupid, but I can’t be a two-time divorcee.”
“I thought I was handling that?”
“No you declared that you were handling it. I’m just as capable.”
I inhale a calming breath. “Okay then, I’m good with an annulment. Then I’m not the divorced guy either.”
I leave the Max thing off the table. He’s like the kitchen sink in our fights. We fight about everything except him when he’s the underlying reason for most of our issues.
She laughs. “You’d think we wouldn’t care about the stigma in this day and age.”
“It’s not just the stigma. Our mas would implode if they got wind of this.”
“True. Okay, I’ll make an appointment. Is there a certain day better than another for you this week or next?”
“I’ll make it work.” I type my password back into my computer to bring up the charts and graphs. The market will open soon, and I need to be prepared. I realize after a moment Val didn’t say anything back. “You still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” she snipes.
“What’s wrong now?”
“Nothing. It’s just… you can clear your schedule for our annulment but not for a dinner date.”
My head falls back on my leather chair and I stare at the ceiling. “I’m sorry I constantly disappoint you.”
She blows out a breath. “I’ll text you the info.”
Click.
I go back over our conversation in my head, trying to figure out where it took a turn for the worse, and realize it was from the moment I answered.
I push a hand through my hair and remember the first time I saw her after the divorce five years ago. She was far from the woman she is now.
It was winter, and her cheeks were rosy. She had on a long coat and furry boots. I’d stopped in for a coffee on my way back to the office to work late, and she was two people in front of me in line. I recognized her immediately. Val has an aura to her, although she’s ignorant to her draw.
She’d ordered her coffee and was lost in her phone, waiting for her name to be called. After I ordered my own, I contemplated ignoring her. I knew she’d gotten divorced and was now a single mom.
I’ve dissected the situation millions of times, wondering if I made the right decision when I approached her.
“Val?” I’d asked, dipping my head to her level.
Her head rose slowly—I knew she’d recognized my voice. A smile pulled at her lips. “Dom.”
The way my name came off her lips made me feel like Superman. As though she needed me more than any time I’d saved her before.
My arms opened on instinct. She fell into my chest, and I held her close. She still smelled the same way—fresh laundry with a hint of berries. It’s the most unique scent I’ve ever encountered.
The barista called her name, and I held up my finger to say we’d be right there.
I managed to get her to a table by the window, and we watched the snow cover the Manhattan streets. The hustle of the city was slower because of the weather, and I let her pour out her heart. She talked about Max and the awful things he’d done, her son who was turning defiant, and the shame of her divorce in her parents’ eyes.
I sat and
listened until she asked, “Dom, why are you not enjoying this? You warned me and…”
She was right. I had warned her about Max. Selfishly, because I wasn’t ready to commit to anyone, but I didn’t want anyone else to have her either. I should be eating the demise of her marriage up with a spoon, but she was hurt, and I’d always had a soft spot for Val.
“I’ll always want the world for you, whether it involves me or not.” I sipped my coffee, feeling like an idiot for saying something romantic, but it was the truth. Her swollen, red-rimmed eyes pulled at my heart.
She sat up straight and wiped her tears with the backs of her fingers. “Weren’t you heading back to work?”
“Nah, it’ll be there tomorrow.”
For the first time in the entire conversation, she smiled. So wide. So big. So genuine. It filled me up in a way not much else can.
We closed down the coffee shop, but at the end of the night, I didn’t ask for her new number. A part of me knew she could turn my life upside down and change everything for me, and I wasn’t ready for it. There was money to make and ladders to climb. Valentina Cavallo had the power to make me change my life choices. And no one likes change.
Chapter Six
Valentina
* * *
I sit at the curbside table of the café across the street from Mazzola Bakery. I have to pop over there to pick up bread for Sunday dinner with my parents. I’m meeting Dom here though because I’m almost positive he has Sunday dinner as well. Might as well get this annulment paperwork dealt with before we have to see our families.
The waitress sets down my coffee, and I’m enjoying it while scrolling through my phone, so I don’t notice Dom approaching. Instead, I overhear the conversation between two women a few tables over, alerting me to his presence.
“That’s Dom Mancini,” one says.
I’m tempted to look over and make sure I don’t recognize them, but I continue sipping my coffee instead.
“He’s the last single one, right?” her friend asks.
