“One day,” I whisper in her ear.
Lily blinks at me, then bites her lip, trying to hide a smile.
————————
Where can I take her?
We’re back in her room, drying off and getting dressed. I should be preoccupied with Lily’s bare tits, but I can’t stop staring out the window. Every car that drives by, every neighbor walking their dog, arouses my suspicions. One thing I know, we can’t stay in one place for too long. That increases the likelihood of the Salvatores tracking Lily down.
Of course, they don’t know anything yet. They don’t know John’s dead, that Lily witnessed it, and that I pulled the trigger. We’re ahead now, and we need to stay that way.
These thoughts are storming through my head as I stare out the window. I don’t realize Lily’s standing behind me until she clears her throat. She’s fully dressed, and doing that blinking.
“So, um, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she starts, rubbing the back of her neck. “There’s this work thing in Manhattan. It’s a really important meeting, and I need to be there.”
“Manhattan?” I say, then pause to turn it over in my head.
Lily raises her shoulders defensively. “If I don’t go, I could get fired. You can come with me, watch me every second.”
“When’s the meeting?”
Lily blinks, surprised. “Wednesday morning.”
I turn back to the window, leaning against the frame. “That’s in three days.”
“I should’ve told you sooner,” Lily says.
I force myself to get a grip and act casual. I can’t tell Lily that she’s in danger of being tortured. It would scare her, and when people are scared, they do reckless things. I open my mouth wide, then turn back to her with a charming smile.
“Let’s go now.”
Lily’s silent for a few moments, her mouth hanging open. I’m sure she expected me to say she couldn’t go at all.
“Now?” she asks.
I step toward her and take her hands. “We’ll make a little trip out of it.” I bend down and bite the bottom of her lip.
Lily’s shoulders relax. She runs her fingers through my hair. “Mateo, you sound so…normal.”
I shrug, keeping my smile. “Maybe I want to be normal with you.”
I mean that, even though there’s nothing normal about this situation.
Lily pulls back, shaking her head. “I can’t just…leave.”
“Why not?”
“What would my parents say?”
I cock an eyebrow. “You need their permission?”
Lily narrows her eyes with a mischievous smile. Without a word, she goes to her dresser and begins packing her bag.
————————
“This is the hotel you chose?” Lily asks.
A man in a nice suit and top hat opens the door for us. We step into the marble floored lobby. There’s a pianist in the corner, filling the vast space with soft music. The walls are paneled in dark wood, and a huge, sparkling chandelier hangs from the ceiling.
“I’m not getting bedbugs,” I say.
Lily scoffs, her eyes on the chandelier. “You could’ve found something more reasonable that doesn’t have bedbugs.”
“Maybe I’m trying to impress you,” I whisper in her ear.
Lily nudges me in the side with her elbow. “The pool hall business must be very good to you.”
I give her a wink, then walk up to the front desk and hand the woman sitting there my credit card. While the clerk types away on her computer, I reach around and discreetly grab Lily’s ass. She slaps my hand, giggling.
The woman looks up from her computer with a friendly smile. “Mr. and Mrs. Costa, welcome. Your room number is 403.” She hands over the keys. “Enjoy your stay. If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”
Lily eyes me as we step into the elevator.
“Mr. and Mrs. Costa?” she asks, accusingly.
“It’s always best to travel under an alias.”
“You have a credit card and everything,” Lily says. “Is that my alias too? Mrs. Costa?”
“Avery Costa, to be exact,” Mateo says. “You’re not Italian. Costa’s your married name.”
Lily nods slowly. “You’ve thought this through.”
“It was Leo, actually.”
“I thought Leo wanted to kill me.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Leo’s all talk. You see, he’s trying to protect you.”
Lily blinks rapidly, stepping away. “Protect me from what?”
My mouth freezes in this ridiculous smile. I need to stop fucking talking. Luckily, the elevator doors open with a loud ding. I walk out, dropping the conversation.
————————
Lily didn’t want to do any of the tourist stuff, which is fine with me. Having grown up in Jersey, both of us have seen the Empire Statement Building and Statue of Liberty enough times to last us a lifetime.
We’re strolling around the upscale neighborhoods surrounding Central Park. Lily admires the architecture, snapping pictures with her phone. She points out which buildings are pre- and post- war. I can’t tell the difference myself.
I see every person on the busy street, looking for threats, or people following us. Luckily, all I see are regular New Yorkers going about their days.
When I see Lily, taking in everything with a peaceful smile on her face, I feel threatened in another way. It’s easy to pretend Lily’s my possession, but the truth is, she has a life here, a job, and an apartment in Brooklyn.
“The streets are so dirty,” I say, kicking a piece of trash out of my path. “People just leave their garbage on the side of the road?”
“And our hometown is so pristine?” Lily asks.
“No,” I admit. “But it has more charm, which makes up for it.”
Lily looks up at the sky, her eyes sparkling. “I think this is a beautiful city.”
I shrug. “It’s okay.”
We round a corner, and Lily stops in her tracks. She grabs my hand, then drags me into a pizza shop. It’s a plain, dingy little place.
“Trust me,” Lily says, then orders two slices of pepperoni.
We stand at the table. I look at the slice sitting on a paper plate, thinking it’s nothing special. Lily watches as I take a bite. I don’t want to like it, but damn, I can’t help closing my eyes and groaning while chewing this slice of heaven. The crust is crisp and brown on the bottom, and doughy in the middle. The cheese is perfectly chewy, and there’s flavor in all the right places. I throw the slice on the paper plate, lifting my arms in defeat.
“You got me,” I admit. “Mama mia, this is a masterpiece.”
“There are a dozen other pizza shops that are at least as good as this,” Lily says. “And that’s only the Italian food. There’s German, Polish, Thai, Spanish, Vietnamese-“
“All right,” I say, cutting her off before she names every nationality on earth. “I get the picture.”
Lily gasps orgasmically as she takes a bite of her pizza.
“Oh,” she says, throwing her hands up. “You have to try the cannoli.”
She rushes up to the counter to order the dessert. I watch her ass in those tight jeans while I eat my pizza. Maybe it’s the apple shape of Lily’s ass and the taste of this amazing marinara going to my head, but I start to think, maybe I can stay here, start over, with her.
Chapter Nine
————————
Lily
It’s the day of the interview. I haven’t thought about it in the few days we’ve been here. I haven’t gone over questions in my head, or fretted over every detail of my outfit. I’ve always loved the city, and found it so easy to get caught up in the magic of it. And the effect is even more pronounced with Mateo around.
I stare at myself in the mirror while straightening my hair, and admit to myself what I’ve been afraid of. What I’m feeling for Mateo is real. It’s not a quick hookup. With him around, wa
tching me, I’ve never felt so sure of myself, so powerful. Maybe it’s because I know he wouldn’t let anything hurt me.
But I started this relationship with a lie. He thinks I have some impressive job, and an apartment in Brooklyn. Thank God he thought it was too dangerous to go to an apartment registered under my real name, then I’d be caught in my lie.
I need to tell him the truth. We need to start out clean.
“Mateo,” I say, walking out of the bathroom.
I’m fully dressed in my blouse, skirt, and matching jacket. Mateo turns from the window he’s been intently staring out of. When he sees me, he curls his upper lip.
“Look at you,” he says, taking broad steps towards me. He slips his arms through the jacket, rubbing the silk blouse at my waist. “You know what I want to do?” I shake my head, eager to hear what’s on his mind. He leans close to my ear and whispers. “I want to crawl under that skirt, and leave kisses on the insides of your thighs.”
His hot breath on my ear makes me shudder. A tinge of moisture appears in my panties.
“Later,” I say, pushing against his chest.
Mateo smacks my ass. “Definitely later.”
He goes back to the window and studies the street below. I don’t know what’s going on with him. Whenever we’re in the room, he’s staring out of that window. Maybe he just likes the view of the park.
“I need to tell you something.” I force the words out.
Mateo doesn’t look at me. “Okay. What?”
I fold my hands in front of me and look at the floor. “This isn’t a meeting I’m going to.”
This gets his attention. Mateo whirls around, and takes a few quick steps towards me.
“Then what is it? I don’t like surprises, Lily. I’m supposed to be protecting you.”
There’s that word again, I think idly. Protecting. Not watching.
“It’s nothing major,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I am going to Bellview Marketing Group. But it’s not a meeting. It’s a job interview.”
“Wait. You don’t work there?”
“No,” I say softly.
Mateo swings his head from side to side, squinting in confusion.
“You don’t live here,” he says.
“No,” I mouth.
Mateo paces to the other side of the room. I open my mouth and words fall out.
“I’m sorry I lied to you. I guess, when I first saw you at the club, I didn’t want to tell you I was unemployed and living with my parents.”
I laugh, self-deprecatingly. Mateo is silent for what feels like a long time. He folds his hands in front of his mouth, and speaks, finally.
“I was dreading the day you had to come back to the city, to your job. I didn’t know that you were trying to get out of Jersey.”
I hold my hands on my hips. This shouldn’t be that big of a deal. “I have been for a long time.”
Mateo looks to the side, shaking his head in disbelief. “Even now? After everything? I don’t get it Lily. There’s nothing tying you here.”
“There’s nothing in Jersey either-“ I snap my mouth shut, then try to recover. “I mean, there wasn’t. Until you.”
“What do you think this is?” Mateo wags his hand between us. “Some temporary thing?”
“No,” I say, quickly. “I wasn’t sure what it was, what you thought it was.”
Suddenly everything is off balance. I sit down on the sofa to catch my breath. A voice rings through my head.
You shouldn’t be with him. He’s dangerous.
Thunk. Remember the sound of a dead man’s head hitting the desk? Remember the pool of blood that formed on top of the paperwork?
I lean forward, burying my face in my hands.
“This has been the most confusing week of my life,” I moan.
“I wasn’t confused. Until now.”
I’m catatonic on the sofa, unsure of whether I should beg for Mateo’s forgiveness, or run like hell from him. I check the time.
“Shit,” I say, straightening my skirt as I stand up. “I have to go.”
I grab my purse and make my way to the door. To my surprise, Mateo walks to the door too.
“You’re coming with me?” I ask.
Mateo doesn’t say a word as he walks out into the hallway.
————————
For the entire five block walk, Mateo stays a few steps behind me. We don’t say a word to each other. I hadn’t expected him to react that way to my little white lie. It’s like he thinks I’m going to leave him. All this time, I couldn’t fathom why Mateo would give me the time of day. Maybe that’s exactly how he feels about me.
The skyscraper that houses Bellview Marketing Group is made almost entirely of glass. Everything is see-through except the floors and ceilings. I can even see the receptionist’s elegant legs crossed beneath her desk.
And I can clearly see Mateo standing on the street below, whipping his head to watch everyone that passes by. Why would he need to follow me here? He knows I’m not going to talk.
I rub my temples, taking a few deep breaths. I’m so distracted, I know I’m going to blow this interview.
I’m led to conference room with six people sitting around a large table. The receptionist goes around introducing everyone. I forget the names as soon as I hear them, except for the gray haired man in the pinstripe suit. His name is Joe Bryant, the Executive Director, who I hope to one day executive assist.
I sit down, primly crossing my legs. A few of the executives start with a little small talk. It’s just like the hundreds of job interviews I’ve been on. Everyone is cheerful and kind, even though they probably have no intention of giving me the job. They only difference is I’m not sweating profusely underneath my arms. Maybe it’s because I can’t focus on a word anyone is saying.
After the usual chat about my education and experience, Mr. Bryant starts on the standard questions.
“Where do you see yourself in five years?”
The question strikes me as funny. I laugh, perhaps a little too loud.
“You know, I had a five year plan once,” I say, to a few stray laughs. “That went up in smoke.”
Mr. Bryant glances back at his clipboard, then at me.
“So, where do you see yourself, then?”
I shrug dramatically. “I can’t answer that question because I don’t know. I could be unemployed and living with my parents, or, I don’t know, dead.”
The executives exchange dark glances. A chill runs up my spine after the words leave my mouth. It seems, my brain has been working subconsciously to put the pieces of the puzzle together, and my utterance of the word dead was the last clue it needed.
“That’s a new one,” Mr. Bryant says. His smile is deep, showing the lines around his mouth. “Moving on. What is your biggest flaw?”
The question seems so mundane, so utterly ridiculous. I don’t want to be in here anymore. I need to talk to Mateo.
“I work too hard,” I spit. “Isn’t that what you usually hear?”
“Yes, that’s the usual response.” Mr. Bryant takes off his glasses, and leans towards me, his chin resting thoughtfully on his hand. “I’d still like to hear your honest answer.”
“Okay,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I’m crazy, okay? But as far as you’re concerned, in a good way. I keep schedules, charts, and graphs of everything. You name it. My monthly cycles, meals I’m going to prepare the following week, the career trajectory of my favorite celebrities. I double, triple, quadruple check everything. There will never be a mistake on my watch, believe that. I might not sleep at night. I might be wound up tight like a knot. But I get the work done.”
When I stop talking, I breathe heavily. I didn’t realize how forceful I was being, or how much I was moving my arms.
Fuck, I curse inwardly. This was your only chance, and you blew it. But none of it matters anyway. Something bad is going on.
“Excuse me,” I say, abruptly.
The executives recoil when
I suddenly stand.
“Pardon me. I have to go.” I rush out, apologizing as I walk over their toes.
The receptionist looks up in confusion as I fly out of the conference room, all the way to the elevator. I tap my foot impatiently on the way down. When the elevator doors open, I start running again.
Mateo senses me when I’m a few feet away. He whirls around, holding his fists up defensively. He puts them down when he sees it’s me. I don’t stop. I run until I slam into his chest.
“You’re keeping something from me,” I yell. “What is it?”
“Hey, will you keep it down?” Mateo says.
We start to get a few glances from people on the street, but I don’t care.
“Something’s going on. What are you scared of? Why are you always looking out the window, and acting so paranoid?”
“Lily,” Mateo says, grabbing my shoulders. “Shut the fuck up, okay? Someone might hear you.”
I stare straight into his eyes. “Who? Who’s after me?”
Mateo’s eyes soften with compassion. He takes my hands and kisses my knuckles.
“Let’s get away from here,” he says. “I’ll tell you everything.”
————————
I watch my feet as we walk through Central Park, dwelling on what Mateo’s has just told me. I can’t stop picturing my severed fingers wrapped up in a pretty box, or my parents getting pictures of my mangled body through the mail. A twig breaks in the breeze, and I jump. I realize I don’t feel safe anymore, even with Mateo.
“I won’t let them get to you,” Mateo says, his voice heavy with determination. “We need to get you far away from here. Away from me. It’s the safest thing.”
I stay quiet, just watching my feet. Step, step, step, step. One foot in front of the other. When were the Salvatores going to jump out of the woods and grab me. Now?
Now?
Mateo punches his palm, obviously frustrated. My phone buzzes in my jacket pocket. I don’t know why, but I answer it.
“Ms. Barnes? This is Joe Bryant. How are you doing?”
Witness: A Dark Mafia Romance (Romano Brothers Book 2) Page 8
