Leo took a seat between Jessica and Tony. “Sorry,” he said, pushing off his jacket and revealing a long-sleeved black cotton shirt. It hugged his muscles as he motioned to each person at the table. “This is Ma, Rome, Angie Colt, Zoey, Val, and Pop.”
Each person smiled or nodded as Leo introduced them.
All but Val and Roman.
They were still entrenched in their staring contest, both harboring the kind of feeling in their eyes that said so much, but nothing at all. It made Jessica wonder what had gone on between the two of them before she’d run into them in the hallway.
Their expressions reminded her of the disturbed looks she often saw on civilians’ faces when there was a dead body at a crime scene. Most people only saw dead bodies in movies and on TV. In real life, however, it was worlds different. There was no expression more poignant than that of a person who’d just seen a dead body, in real life, for the very first time. Yes, Val and Roman’s faces, their attitudes, their whole auras, reminded her of that.
She considered them as they considered each other, wondering if there was a dead body in that house somewhere. It wouldn’t be the first dead body the Romanovskys had on their hands. It wouldn’t even be the second.
As she thought of the Blacks, her eyes travelled to Zoey. She couldn’t see her belly, but Jessica knew Zoey was well into her second trimester. Zoey was carrying Val’s baby, even though she’d been meant to see Val as a “brother.” Jessica hadn’t had the luxury of delving too deeply into that story, but she’d be damned if it didn’t make her curious.
Even as her fiancé scowled away next to her, Zoey offered Jessica a smile.
Jessica was surprised when it immediately melted her heart. It felt warm and genuine.
“Can we eat?” Gary chimed in.
“Let’s get it,” Tony said, making it so.
With Tony’s word, hands flew into the middle of the table from all directions, each clawing for a different dish. Chicken marsala, potatoes, spaghetti Bolognese and stuffed clams were just a few of the dishes that got passed around. In minutes, everyone’s plate was full.
As Jessica filled her own plate, she couldn’t help but be amazed at how well this plan was panning out. She’d made the kind of progress in one hour that she’d thought would take weeks.
Maybe, if luck stayed on her side, she could have Val under arrest before the week was out.
***
“So, what do you do, Ashley?” Zoey smiled across the table as she made Val’s plate.
Jessica studied Val, who was in the process of running a hand down his distressed face, looking like food was the farthest thing from his mind.
With effort, Jessica dragged her eyes back to Zoey, referring to the mental list in her head that told her who “Ashley Williams” was before answering.
“I’m a freelance graphic designer,” Jessica said.
Zoey nearly dropped the plate in her hand. “Shut up!”
“How about that? Zoey’s a graphic designer, too.” Sarcasm laced Angie’s voice.
“Small world,” Jessica said, throwing Angie a look, eyes begging her to shut up and stay that way.
“Are you married?” Bette asked, pushing a tiny forkful of food past her lips.
“I’m single,” Jessica answered. She felt Leo’s eyes hit her, but didn’t look his way.
“How in the world do you afford a house in this neighborhood, by yourself, on a graphic designer’s salary?” Zoey beamed.
Val looked up. Apparently, Jessica now had his attention, too.
Roman’s eyes hit her as well.
She swallowed. “Business was booming for the first five years or so, and then everything just… fell off. I saved enough to buy a nice place, and the house was a bargain, so I swiped it up. Still…” The lies were piling up fast. They always did. “Insurance, utilities, taxes… it adds up, you know? It’s been hard. Scary. Not knowing where my next dollar’s coming from. I’ve actually been shopping my work around Manhattan for the last few months, hoping for an office job. Even though office jobs have always been my worst nightmare—”
Zoey gasped.
The moment she did, Jessica knew she had her right where she wanted her.
“There’s an opening for graphic designers at Novsky!” Zoey cried.
“Is there really?” Jessica asked.
Angie’s eyebrow seemed to be permanently raised.
Zoey nudged Val, excitement filling her eyes.
Val wasn’t nearly as impressed as his fiance. One nudge from Zoey, however, spurred him enough to respond to Jessica. “If you hate the idea of an office job, you will definitely hate Novsky.”
Jessica nearly kicked herself for getting carried away. Her partner, Chet Lorrick, always told her she talked too much.
“Never use ten words when all you need is five,” he always said.
Jessica hated that Chet was probably smirking that wiseass smirk of his from where he was listening to all of this, planted in the empty house around the corner. She looked down at her cleavage and breathed in relief when she saw her wire was still out of sight.
Val remained detached, monotone. “Novsky works under an open concept floor plan. There are no offices, no cubicles, no doors, no walls. I don’t even have walls, and I’m the founder and CEO.”
“She won’t even be in the office. You know good and well most of the designers work from home,” Zoey said.
Val met Zoey’s eyes and held them.
“I love open concepts,” Jessica said, sensing she was losing him.
He looked back, eyebrows rising at how quickly she’d changed her tune.
“I may have spoken too strongly when I said I hated offices. I’m sure working in an office is a great way to make business contacts that will be invaluable in the future. The pros surely outweigh the cons.”
Those eyebrows stayed raised on Val’s face. He looked bored to death, edgy, and utterly unimpressed with Jessica.
Jessica’s eyes trailed back to Roman. Perhaps Val wasn’t unimpressed, but deeply distracted, much like his older brother, who was back to staring at Val with hardness in his eyes.
Still making his plate, hands full, Zoey’s elbow came flying at Val once more. “Val is doing interviews all next week. I know, because it’s my position he’s interviewing for.” She looked down and covered her belly. “I’m going to be taking leave soon.” She nudged Val again.
Val looked at Zoey. The look quickly escalated into a deep stare. Something passed between the two of them, something strong, because when he looked back to Jessica this time, the emptiness that had been present in his eyes a moment before had vanished.
“Tomorrow,” he said. “Nine o’clock. The office is on the corner of Wall Street and Pearl.”
“There with bells on,” Jessica said.
“Good enough.” Val looked back to Zoey just as she set a full plate of food down in front of him. “Thank you, baby.”
Zoey rubbed his back and leaned over, popping a kiss on his cheek.
“Enough.” Tony was already shutting it down.
The microscopic smile Val had been fighting to the death finally broke on his face, and Zoey kissed his cheek again.
“Ay,” Tony’s voice rose. “What I say?”
Val and Zoey finally separated, both fighting smiles.
Jessica watched the exchange. When those two crashed and burned, she was now sure she wouldn’t enjoy it as much as she’d imagined. It would just be sad. They were clearly in love, but that love was tainted. The well was full of poison. Val knew it. Zoey didn’t.
Still, from the way he looked at her, Jessica would have almost guessed Val didn’t know that his relationship was doomed. As his eyes studied Zoey, they were so clear, so open, so full of trust, that the amateur eye would call it forever.
Jessica knew better. Val and Zoey weren’t forever. They couldn’t be.
Utensils scraped against plates as everyone in the room delved into their meals.
“So
, Ashley, how long have you been in the neighborhood?” Tony asked.
“About a year.”
“How have I never seen you?” Leo demanded.
Her eyes met his.
“I would definitely remember a beautiful face like yours,” he purred.
Hisses flew around the table.
“Cheese,” Zoey teased.
“That’s the best line you got?” Angie winced.
“I’m eating.” Gary motioned to his half-empty plate.
Leo lifted his shoulders, motioning to Jessica with both hands, thumb and forefingers pressed together. “She’s a beautiful woman. I can’t tell a beautiful woman she looks beautiful? Look at her. She’s gorgeous.”
“She is gorgeous.” Zoey nodded, giving Leo a break. She continued to rub Val’s back. He was still watching her, plate untouched. “She looks like a young Iman.”
“I get Iman sometimes,” Jessica said. Constantly, actually. She’d learned at an early age that being constantly compared to a supermodel was something she was never allowed to talk about. If anything, she was to rebuff all supermodel comparisons immediately, feigning obliviousness, lest she be hated by everyone in the room. “I don’t really see it.”
“She’s better than Iman.” Leo watched her. “Much more beautiful.”
“Let’s not go crazy,” Jessica mumbled.
“Where are you from?” Leo asked.
“I was born in Ethiopia.” Jessica looked at Angie.
Of course, Angie’s face was awash with amusement, knowing good and well that—even though she did have Ethiopian ancestry—Jessica had actually been born and raised in the meanest housing project in Jersey City.
“Ashley Williams is kind of a super white name for an Ethiopian girl,” Gary said, earning the embarrassed glares of everyone in the room.
“Gary,” Zoey said. “Remember that talk we had? The one where I suggested you think about what you want to say three times before you actually say it? This is one of those times where I can tell you didn’t do that.”
Gary shrugged in the same defensive way Leo had earlier.
“It’s okay,” Jessica said. “Gary… I’m actually named after the American woman who delivered me.” Lies. “I was breech during labor, and I could’ve been badly injured if Nurse Ashley Williams hadn’t saved the day. My parents named me to honor her. Ashley Williams Nebiyounigat. My parents dropped the Nebiyounigat when we moved here, hoping “Williams” would help me become more assimilated to our new country.” This lie was piling up fast. Jessica hoped Gary would drop it, because she could see it spiraling.
“That’s sad,” he said, sitting taller. “I think Netflixaphian is kind of a cool name.”
That he’d just butchered. Jessica fought a smile. “It’s not so bad. We moved to America when I was two. I don’t really remember Ethiopia.”
“Leo used to torture this one Ethiopian girl we went to school with.” Gary laughed, motioning to Leo with his fork.
Angie and Jessica shared a wide-eyed look.
Leo’s eyes widened as well, but they were fixed on Gary, silently drilling him to shut up. It seemed his family was on a mission to make him look like the biggest asshole alive tonight.
“What did you used to call that girl all the time? Big boned…” Gary shook his head, realizing that wasn’t right. “Burly…” He struggled.
“Beer Belly Borgia,” Angie finally jumped in.
Gary stabbed his fork in her direction. “Yes!” He laughed with her.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Leo asked, looking back and forth between them.
Jessica was annoyed too, ready to smash those cat-eyed glasses on Angie’s face. She was having way too much fun watching her squirm.
Suddenly self-conscious, Jessica found herself wondering if she really did look all that different from her Beer Belly Borgia days. Sure, she’d lost a ton of weight, the bowl cut she’d rocked back then was now all the way down her back—almost touching her ass—but she still had the same eyes, the same sienna skin, and the same relentless curves.
Her eyes met Leo’s, but she didn’t see recognition. With a sigh of relief, she noticed there wasn’t recognition in anyone else’s eyes either. No one but Angie Colt. Jessica made a mental note to murder that girl the next time they found themselves alone.
“I was a real jerk off in high school. I was,” Leo admitted. “But I’m not that way anymore.”
Gary sniggered, and it appeared Leo had to drum up every ounce of self-control he had not to leap across that table and take him around the neck.
“You’ve never gone back to Africa?” Tony asked, saving Gary from death.
“Not since I was a kid,” Jessica said. “My dad’s side of the family was assassinated by the Kenyan mafia, so they don’t exactly have fond memories.” She shifted in her seat, enjoying herself. She loved making shit up.
“Cool,” Gary said around a cheek full of food.
Leo leaned over the table, catching Gary’s eyes. “Her dad’s side of the family getting assassinated is cool?” He raised a hand when Gary tried to respond. “Just shut your mouth. Just eat.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Gary grumbled before heeding Leo’s demand and going back to his food.
Jessica watched Gary sheepishly, feeling bad. She had thought her fake story was pretty cool too.
“Do you ever feel like you’re missing out on knowing your culture firsthand?” Bette asked.
Jessica shrugged. “I don’t think it’s any different from an Italian American who’s never been to Italy. Or a Russian American who’s never been to Russia.” She purposely used Tony and Bette’s nationalities as her example, noting the look the married couple shared over the table.
“That’s true,” Bette smiled. “Never thought of it that way.”
“We should plan a trip,” Tony said. “To Italy or Russia. We should do it, all of us, this year.”
“We should make it Russia, not Italy, that way Rome can enjoy it too,” Gary said.
The silence that swept across the table was bone chilling. Even the silverware stopped clanking, leaving an eerie emptiness lingering.
The fact that Tony was not Roman’s biological father was still a touchy subject at this table. That much was evident. Nobody jumped in to note that, with the surname Romanovsky, even Tony was bound to have a little Russian in him, however far down the line it was.
Jessica looked at Gary. Apparently, he was the Romanovsky that lived with his foot in his mouth. He went back to demolishing his food like nothing was out of the ordinary, even as his words blasted the air from every pair of lungs at the table, hand delivered a vat of awkwardness that was torturous to stew in, and left each one of them at a loss how to get out of it.
The silence went on.
Leo leaned close. “I told you these people were crazy.”
3
“Your family is definitely crazy.” Jessica stared down at her running shoes and his combat boots as they trudged along the asphalt in the middle of the quiet tree-lined street. The streetlights shone a dull yellow, illuminating their faces and darkening them again as they moved. “They’re crazy, but they love you. You’re lucky.” She sighed. “I just wish we hadn’t had to leave so quickly.”
“I’m surprised how badly you wanted to stay. By the end of dinner with my family, guests are usually breaking their necks in the race to get away.”
“Nah. They’re sweet. Your mother is an angel, and damn can she cook.”
“She’s the shit,” Leo agreed.
“I wasn’t in a hurry.” She threw him a squinted eye. “If anything, you seemed eager to get me out of there.”
“How else was I supposed to get you alone?”
“Is that why you insisted on walking me home, even though my house is, literally, right around the corner?”
“Maybe I’m just a gentlemen.”
“Are gentlemen hitting women with their penis cars now? Is that what’s hot in these streets? Who sai
d chivalry’s dead?”
“How quickly you forget that you threw yourself in front of me. Even now, when I’m trying to walk you home, like a gentleman, you’ve managed to steer us straight into the middle of the damn road. You’re trying to get us both killed now.”
Jessica turned away, giving him the back of her head as a smile teased her lips. When the smile dissipated, she snapped her gaze back to him. “Maybe the company you bring home, I’m assuming female company, are always itching to get away because they’re mortified when your family calls them by three different names in rapid fire succession.”
“That doesn’t happen every time.”
“I don’t believe you.” She snickered when his head fell. “At all. I personally thought it was hilarious that your family put you on blast about the hordes of women you bring home.”
“Hordes is a strong word.”
“They confused me with three different women, Leo. Three.”
“Three girls does not a horde make.”
“Oh, spare me, Yoda. They would’ve fired off a hundred more names if you hadn’t jumped in and shut them up.”
“Ay. Hold on.” He met her eyes and covered his heart, feigning offense. “I’m a single man in my twenties, sweetheart. Do I enjoy women? Yes. Has my family met their fair share of them? Absolutely. But why not? I’m enjoying my life.”
“Is this the spiel you give to all your side hoes? Because it needs work.”
He sputtered, and then laughed.
“Do you have no standards at all?”
He leaned back, whistling.
“I’m serious,” she said. “Do you bring every random fun box who throws you a halfhearted smile home to your mom?”
He faced her, walking sideways. “I think Ma would be more concerned if I wasn’t bringing home random fun boxes. For a while there, she was seriously worried about Val. She used to call secret family meetings about him.”
Loving Leo (The Romanovsky Brothers Book 3) Page 3
