Kiss of Fire (St. James Family)

by Parker, Lavender

  “No.”

  “Don't let her rattle you. Her bark is bad, but her bite is worse.” Christophe looked past him, his laughing eyes lighting up like a man in love. O'Donovan followed his gaze, and did a double take. A woman that looked very similar to Toni, but older, was striding toward them. Whereas Toni was all skips and graceful, soft movement, this woman was all hard steps and swaying hips. She was tall and commanding, her hair pulled back and her makeup impeccable. She held out her hand and Christophe took it, pulling her close. She said something low in his ear, a hint of a smile on her lips. He whispered back, holding out his drink to her. She took a sip, then they both turned their faces to look at O'Donovan.

  He'd liked to have pretended that he wasn't intimidated by the two of them, but it was difficult. It was obvious they were powerful. And they were Toni's family. Toni's sister immediately zeroed in on him, her light-brown eyes as hard and cold as glass even as she smiled and held out her hand.

  “Annata St. James. Have we met?”

  “Sebastian O'Donovan.” He shook her hand, not surprised at all that she had a strong handshake.

  “Toni's friend,” Christophe said.

  “Oh. Right.” A bit of the coldness left her eyes as she raked them from his head to his toes, taking him in. She had that x-ray vision, too, he mused. It must be a family trait. “Is that an Irish accent?” she asked, taking another sip of Christophe's drink.

  “It is, yeah.”

  “How long have you been in the city?”

  “About 30 years now.”

  “Hmm,” she murmured and he knew she was trying to calculate how old he was. Too old for her baby sister, he guessed. “Well today is your lucky day, Sebastian O'Donovan.”

  “Why's that?” he asked.

  “Because not only do you get to meet Christophe and I, you get to meet Toni's parents and her grandmother.” She laughed, and she looked like Toni so much in that moment that O'Donovan felt himself relax, despite what she'd said. “Toni is going to kill me for this,” she said to Christophe. “Their cab's almost here. The flight was late.”

  Then, as if the night couldn't get any worse, he felt a hand on his elbow.

  “Bastian, I'm beginning to think that you're following me,” Gwen said, her fingers digging into his suit coat. “I thought we agreed in the settlement that I got Manhattan and you got Queens.” Her voice was soft and sweet, but her meaning was anything but. She clutched a little metallic bag to her hip, her body tense.

  “Gwendolyn,” O'Donovan hissed, in a tone he hoped said Fuck off, seconds away from meeting Toni's whole family and not in the mood for his ex-wife's bullshit. But it was too late, as Annata was already giving Gwen the once over.

  “Oh, excuse me, I don't want to be rude,” Gwen stepped around Sebastian and held her hand out. “I'm Gwen O'Donovan.” O'Donovan felt the need for violence growing inside of him. As far as he knew, Gwen had gone back to her maiden name after the divorce. Now all of a sudden she was Gwen O'Donovan?

  Annata and Christophe raised matching eyebrows, and Christophe spoke first. “I'm Christophe Van der Kind and this is my wife, Annata St. James.”

  “Oh,” Gwen said, acting blasé, but he could see the gears shift in her head. She knew the name Van der Kind, sure as shit. How could she not? She read the society papers like it was her job. There was an extra twinkle in her eye as she turned back to O'Donovan. “I'm Bastian's ex-wife. We keep running into each other, strangely enough. I'll tell you, I never expected to see him on opening night for the ballet!” she exclaimed with the fake little society laugh that he hated. Then she yanked a man in a fitted bright blue suit around to face them. “This is my escort, Billy Broderick. He's a fashion designer, maybe you've heard of him?” Billy, looked surprised but recovered quickly, holding his hand out. Christophe obliged him with a shake, but Annata did not. She was giving O'Donovan that cold look again, as if she was recalculating her opinion of him on the spot.

  “If you'll excuse me,” Annata said, turning abruptly and weaving her way through the crowd. Gwen gave O'Donovan a look of suppressed joy, then slid her arm through Billy's.

  “I guess we'll be off to find our seats. Have a good night, Mr. Van der Kind,” she said, ignoring O'Donovan, and her friend glided her away as quickly as she'd come. O'Donovan wished he could boot his dress shoe up where the sun don't shine. Diplomacy his ass. Gwen had done that shit on purpose. Somehow, she knew who Toni was and now she was going to torture him with the information. Christophe clinked his glass with O'Donovan's, then tossed back the rest of his drink.

  “Women,” Christophe said, finally, with a knowing smile. “Those blitz attacks will get you every time.”

  ***

  “Oh my God!” Toni couldn't help the tears from springing in her eyes at the sight of her parents and granny standing beside Annata and Christophe. The show was over, and she hadn't fallen flat on her face or had a wardrobe malfunction. She'd done well. Beyond well. She'd kicked ass, just like O'Donovan said she would. One performance down, thirty-four more to go. She'd changed into a wraparound black dress and flats, and cleaned herself up as much as possible, in preparation for after-show drinks with Nat, Christophe, and O'Donovan, but this was much better. She flung herself into her father's arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Oh, Daddy, you didn't have to come!”

  “I know we didn't have to, but we did.” Rodrick St. James said, his usually harsh countenance lighting up in a smile. “So there.”

  “What did you think?” she asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Her parents were always harder on her than most, but she appreciated it. How else was she going to succeed unless she was always pushing herself?

  “Very good,” her mother, Marietta, spoke up. “You looked so beautiful out there.” She dabbed at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief, looking effortlessly elegant in a cream pantsuit and pearls. “I wasn't a huge fan of the costume, but it looked good on you.”

  “I didn't know we'd have to wait so long to see you, baby,” Granny said, from a borrowed wheelchair. “We could have come a lot later and been fine.” She laughed her deep full-body laugh, and Toni bent to kiss her powdered cheek.

  “I can't believe you're all here! I can't believe you kept it a secret from me.” She pointed at Annata, narrowing her eyes. “You did this, didn't you?”

  “Guilty,” Annata said with a smile. “The Lilac Fairy is a big fucking deal, remember?”

  “What about you?” Toni pointed at Christophe. “Did you keep it from me, too?”

  “I'm innocent,” Christophe laughed. Toni rolled her eyes, finally spying O'Donovan at the edge of the group. A slight tremor of fear went through her. He'd been thrown into the lion's cage, meeting her whole family at once. It wasn't fair to him, but then again, it wasn't up to her. She caught his eyes and lifted her shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. It was what it was. He shrugged back in response, accepting it, seemingly. She smiled and held out her hand for him. He took it and she squeezed.

  “What did you think?” she stood on her tiptoes and asked in his ear.

  “I liked your part,” he said.

  “That's the only the part that matters,” she said with a giggle. His hand dropped to her ass and squeezed, and she felt better. As long as they were together, they were fine, she reminded herself. She turned back to her family. “Everybody, I know you've probably all met him, but this is my... friend Sebastian O'Donovan.”

  “We met your white boy, baby,” Granny called out. “Now get me out of this chair.” O'Donovan chuckled low beside her and she gave him a faux horrified look as her father helped her grandmother out of the dreaded wheelchair. Her grandmother liked to pretend that she wasn't almost 90-years-old and could walk on her own, aided by her trusty burled oak cane, of course. They walked slowly to the door, O'Donovan and Toni making up the rear.

  “Let's lose them and go smoke,” she whispered, entwining her hand with his. “All I wanted to do tonight was get high and do dirty things to my man.”

 
“Dirty things, huh?” He threw her a side look and she lifted his hand to her mouth. Glancing ahead and seeing that no one was paying attention to her, she sucked his middle finger into her mouth, flicking her eyes to his. Lust darkened his face and she groaned inwardly. She glanced around, wondering if there was somewhere they could duck into.

  “Toni?” her sister's voice interrupted her attempt at seducing O'Donovan, and she dropped his hand abruptly. “We're going to go up across the street to the Chowder house. Just some place close so they don't have to stay out too late.”

  “Okay, whatever you want,” Toni said, too quickly. Beside her, O'Donovan laughed, the sound low and slow and sexy, making her wish for those dirty things even more. He pinched her ass and held open the door for her. They followed her family across the courtyard, past the fountain and through the crowd dispersing after the show. It was a humid night, the air damp with the hint of rain, but nothing could affect Toni's mood that night. This was how she always wanted it to be—all of her favorite people by her side, laughing and in good moods. What could be better than that?

  They pushed past the line outside and got a quick table when Christophe flashed a smile and said his name. Christophe and Annie were stopped a few times to chat with other well-dressed patrons, surely their friends and colleagues. Toni gave O'Donovan a bored look, but he was no longer paying attention. He was looking around the richly appointed dining room, full of the upper-crust, out on a Saturday night. She slid her arm through his, guiding him through to their table.

  Once they were all seated, Christophe got a bottle of champagne for the table. Toni looked over the menu, eyes widening at the prices. She supposed she should be used to it by now, after going out with her sister and Christophe. She glanced at O'Donovan, but again, he didn't notice her. She was starting to lose him again, she realized. He was getting caught up on the money, she realized. Granny, however, had no such problem. She ordered the lobster.

  “You only live once,” she announced, tapping her cane on the ebony wood floor.

  “Get whatever you want, Dorothy,” Christophe said, ordering a steak. Nat waved off a heavy meal, and got a salad. Even the salads were expensive, Toni thought wryly. She ordered a salad, too, and then turned to O'Donovan, who had barely touched his menu.

  “Let me guess. You want the steak, too?” she asked, dropping a hand to his knee under the table.

  “I'm not hungry,” he said.

  “Not hungry?” Toni asked, eyes wide.

  “Are you juicing?” Toni's mother Marietta said, dipping into their conversation. “I've considered doing a juice fast. All the ladies at church are talking about it.”

  “Back in the day, we used to call it starving yourself,” Granny said.

  “Mommy, those really aren't good for you,” Nat said, sipping her water.

  “O'Donovan is Irish. He would exist on Guinness, Jameson, and beef, if he could,” Toni said. “I don't think juicing is in his future.”

  “So how is the cosmetics game, Annata?” Rodrick St. James said, his order already put in for a lobster as well.

  “Well, it's Toni's night. We don't have to talk business,” Nat said.

  “Mirabelle is now the #2 cosmetics company in the world, thanks to her,” Christophe said, slinging his arm around the back of his wife's chair.

  “We're making a push to the Asian market,” Nat said, not able to help herself. “Did you know that South Korea is the fastest growing market for cosmetics?”

  “We do now,” Toni said, with a smile, running her fingers up O'Donovan's thigh.

  Soon the champagne was flowing and Toni was laughing more than she'd laughed in awhile, if that was possible. Her grandmother was her normally spunky self, the alcohol only making her tongue more loose. In contrast, O'Donovan was quiet throughout dinner, drinking whiskey and giving one-word answers on the off chance someone asked him a question. She could tell something was wrong, but she just played along like it was normal. He was rarely talkative anyway, but he was especially anti-social that night. She found excuses to touch him, wanting to remind him that she was waiting for him, on the other side. She wished he would relax, but she figured it would take time for him to get comfortable with her family.

  Toni wondered what his family was like. He'd mentioned a brother who lived on Long Island. She was sure that family get togethers for the O'Donovans didn't involve going to the ballet and eating seafood and drinking expensive champagne afterwards. She wondered when she would get to meet his family? She'd make them love her, she decided, just like she was going to make O'Donovan love her. She smiled at O'Donovan and he took her hand under the table, running his fingers down her palm. She shivered at the small intimate movement, hoping that it hinted of things to come, when her parents and grandmother returned to their hotel and Nat and Christophe headed home. She wanted nothing more than to fall asleep next to him after making love to him, her head on his chest. That would truly be the perfect end to an already perfect day.

  The dining room hushed and the lights dimmed as the server appeared with a cake lit by sparklers, heading straight for their table. “Congratulations from Mr. and Mrs. Van der Kind on your opening night,” he said said, setting the cake in front of Toni, who looked to Nat and Christophe. They both smiled widely, their faces lit up by of the fiery sparklers.

  “You guys!” Toni exclaimed and Christophe lead them all in loud applause. The whole restaurant joined in and Toni felt herself blush. She blew out the candles, her heart beating a mile a minute. The hubbub died down and Toni found herself giggling uncontrollably. “I hate you guys.”

  “Congratulations little sister,” Nat said, sliding a narrow gold box tied with a white ribbon across the table.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Just open it,” Nat said, bringing her water to her lips. Toni looked at O'Donovan, who was staring at her, and untied the ribbon. Inside the box were a set of keys. Toni held them up, confused.

  “I already have keys to your place,” she said.

  “They're not to our place,” Nat said.

  “I don't get it.” Toni said, looking from Nat to Christophe to her parents. All of them were looking at her in a weird way.

  “They're to your place,” Nat said with a wide smile.

  “My place?” Toni said, more confused than ever.

  “On 100th and West End. Apartment 8H. It's all you.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “They're giving you an apartment,” O'Donovan said, his voice low beside her.

  “But... why?” Toni asked, looking to her sister and brother-in-law. Nat laughed.

  “Because we can,” she said, as if that answered all questions.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much,” Toni said, in shock, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. Her mother leaned forward, holding out another box, this one small and velvet.

  “Here's just a little something from me and Daddy,” her mother said, in a hushed tone, like she didn't want to draw attention to it. “Congratulations on your promotion, baby.” Toni opened the velvet box, revealing a diamond necklace.

  “Mommy!” Toni gasped again, looking from her mother's face to her father's. Rodrick St. James nodded knowingly, like it had been all his idea. “I can't believe it. I love it. Thank you.”

  “You're welcome, baby girl,” Rodrick said, sipping his after dinner espresso. Toni wiped away her tears, looking down at the cake in front of her.

  “Okay, I can only have a tiny sliver of this cake, but I'm going to enjoy every crumb. Wake Granny up and ask her if she wants some,” Toni said with a laugh. She glanced at O'Donovan again, and he was still staring at her, his face unreadable. He probably thought she was more spoiled than ever now, but she couldn't help that. With a sign, she turned back to the task at hand, slicing into the cake carefully and divvying up the pieces. When she glanced at him again, O'Donovan was tossing back the rest of his drink, looking like he wished he was anywhere but there.

  ***

  The n
ight sky opened up and a light rain had begun to fall. The streets were slick with a light sheen. Occupied taxis passed, and pedestrians ran for cover, trying to get in out of the rain. The St. James family piled out of the restaurant behind him, loud and more talkative after getting a little alcohol and food in their bellies. O'Donovan kept his distance, watching their faces under the light of the awning. Annata slung her arm over Christophe's shoulders, talking low in his ear, as Toni laughed loudly at something her spitfire of a grandma had said. Rodrick St. James checked his watch, and Marietta had a pleasant look on her face, watching Toni like a proud mama.

  “It's raining,” Toni announced, sticking her hand out under the awning, letting drops fall on her palm. O'Donovan chuckled to himself as he watched the looks on the women's faces as they scrambled to cover their hair. He remembered what Toni had told him in the shower once, about black women's hair and not wanting to get it wet. He shrugged out of his suit jacket, sliding it over Toni's shoulders. She took in a sharp little breath and looked up at him. She'd noticed how distant he'd been at dinner. He wanted to say something, but he didn't. What was there to say, anyway?

  She smiled a secret smile just for him and he couldn't help it—he pressed his mouth to her hair. Her fingers found his on her shoulder, and for a moment, he let her touch him. But then a black limo pulled up and he let her go. Christophe Van der Kind's limo, no doubt. He wondered what planet he was on. Champagne, lobster, limo rides, gifted apartments. Holy Mary. What a night. Toni furrowed her brow at his face, and he realized he was probably scowling.

  “I'll go with you,” she said, simply. “Back to Queens.”

  He shook his head.“Early shift.”

  “Liar,” she said, knowing he was off. He never could lie worth shit. He didn't reply, just stood back and watched as Christophe ushered Dorothy to the limo, followed by Annata and Marietta. Rodrick held his hand out to O'Donovan.

  “Good to meet you,” he said in his booming voice. O'Donovan nodded and shook his hand and then Rodrick hurried to the limo. O'Donovan couldn't help but be thankful that the rain had hastened the goodbyes. Christophe stood at the door, getting rained on, watching Toni and O'Donovan under the awning, as Rodrick ducked into the limo.