by Olivia Luck
“Oh, cara, that’s a wonderful idea.” Valentina is the first to speak.
Then there’s a rush of compliments from these women. At that moment, I pretend that I’m part of this family permanently. I imagine that I’m truly Valentina’s daughter, deserving of her unwavering support and love. How perfect it would be, to be one of the Baccino women.
“Need any help, ladies?” Nico, Valentina’s husband, pokes his head into the kitchen. “We’re getting hungry out here.”
“Why don’t you get your tush in the kitchen and help us then, eh?” Teresa jokes.
A pile of more family members finds their way to us, lifting trays of food to bring to the dining room. Valentina clasps my bicep in her free hand, tugging me to a seat next to her once we are at the table. The affair’s not formal, no assigned seats, but I’m really, really glad my former mother-in-law insists that I sit next to her. Warmth surrounds me when I’m near Valentina.
“Dominic, Nico, did you hear that our Violet is starting her own event planning company? It’s wonderful news.” It doesn’t escape me that she still refers to me as theirs. I savor the word.
“You are?” Nico rumbles in his deep voice. “Well done. Blake tells me that you’re planning an event for the Scrapers. Raising money for the Hope House. Very nice.” Nico’s a man of few words. When he does speak, each statement is said with sincerity. The sentiment rings true in his eyes, and I smile at him in appreciation.
Dominic nods too, though he doesn’t add a comment. Just as well. His criticism would darken my mood. We get lost in food and talking. This has been my Christmas tradition for the past four years or so, and I’m comfortable here in the boisterous environment. Even without Max.
Later, when dessert and cappuccino are served, I corner Blake in one of the booths. “Can I bug you for a minute?” I ask.
“Of course,” he says instantly. Despite Blake’s stone-cold exterior, I know he’d help me in any way that I needed. Not only did he express it to me dozens of times after I lost Max, but he’s been a constant resource when I had questions about life insurance policies and things of that ilk. I trust him and am so thankful that he’s around.
We settle down across from each other in the booth. “This won’t take long. I don’t want to talk business on Christmas, but I didn’t know when else I could ask you for this favor.”
“Violet, whatever you need.” The muscles on his face don’t move an inch in his staunch response. Geez. I don’t know how Stella relaxes around this guy. He can be intimidating.
“There are a couple of things that I need your help with,” I admit. “The first thing is about this place.” I gesture to the restaurant around us. “Baccino’s was to be split among Max and all of his cousins equally. Now that he’s gone, I’m not sure if this transfers to me or . . . anything. Either way, I want to present some sort of legal document to the family lawyer that says I withdraw myself from any ownership in Baccino’s.”
Blake opens his mouth to say something, then thinks better of it and sighs. “You’re sure that’s what you what?” he asks.
“Positive,” I confirm with a decisive nod.
“Do you know my friend, Harris Grant?” I shake my head. “Right. Well, he’s an attorney and he’ll be happy to help with anything you need. I’ll arrange a meeting for the three of us. What else, Violet?”
Quickly, I explain my business idea. Now Blake’s more verbose, telling me that he’d be happy to help me get it off the ground. “Harris can work with us on that, too.”
“Oh, Blake. Thank you,” I say emphatically.
“Don’t you think Violet’s business idea is incredible?” Stella appears next to the table, sliding into the bench seat next to Blake. He lifts his arm across her shoulders, tucking her into his side. Then he presses a kiss to her forehead. The bite of jealousy is sharp, but I push it away.
“She’ll be successful with whatever she does. Like you, she’s brilliant.” Though Blake’s talking about me, he’s staring at Stella with that lovesick expression he usually wears whenever she’s around.
Fingertips gently resting on my shoulder draw my gaze upward. Valentina stands above me. “Come on.” There’s no room for argument. She links our arms together and we walk back to the kitchen, now deserted of activity. She leads me to the small back office and gently pushes me in the direction of a small couch.
“When are you going to start dating?” she asks bluntly.
“Not mincing words today, Valentina,” I say wryly.
She runs her knuckles across my cheekbone tenderly. “Time’s passing you by, bellissima. You are young and lovely and smart and driven. Any man would kiss his lucky stars to be with a woman like you. Tell me what’s holding you back.”
I stare at her dumbfounded. “Tell you what’s holding me back,” I repeat. “Valentina—what—are you really asking me this? It hasn’t been much more than a year since we lost Max. I’m not ready to find someone else.”
She places her hands flat on her lap. “Did you know that the first time Max spoke of you, I knew you’d be his wife?”
Numbly, I shake my head. Valentina is one of the only people who discusses my deceased husband frankly with me.
“It sounds silly, I know, but when he told me that your name was Violet, I felt this instant connection to you. The letter V. It’s uncommon for a first name, and my boy found a woman whose name is similar to mine. And then I met you. My darling girl, you were the perfect match for my son.”
The tears clawing at my eyes spill over then. I drop my head, staring at where my hands are knotted together tightly in my lap. My chest hurts. God, it hurts.
“Violet.” Valentina’s hands cup my shoulders and I slowly raise my wet eyes to hers. “Max wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of your life mourning him. He would want you to move on. I want you to move on. Find someone to love you deeply.”
“I’m scared,” I admit. “If I go back to our house or if I visit the fire station, it will be real. And I don’t want to lose my memories of the best thing I ever did in my life.” I swallow the lump forming in my throat. My entire body aches. Longing, confusion, worry, and sadness pulse through my veins. “And if I step away from him, I’m stepping away from you.” There. I said it. I don’t have a mother to care for me. I don’t have a father who dotes on me. Max’s family is the closest I have to one of my own. Without them . . .
“Oh, darling. Don’t you know?” Valentina pulls a handkerchief out of the pocket of her dress. She blots at the dampness on my cheek, her eyes full of compassion. “No matter what happens, you’ll always be ours.”
My body gives out under the tremendous pressure bearing down on me. I curl up against her chest, allowing her to collect me. “You think you can get rid of me that easily?” She chuckles, and even I share a watery laugh. Then she grows serious. “Losing my son left a wound that will never heal. Every morning, I wake up missing him and every night I go to sleep missing him. Knowing that he died doing the thing he most revered gives me some small piece of solace.”
Clench. My heart squeezes painfully at her words.
“He loved his job most in his life, Violet. Fighting fire was his addiction and first love. I’m not saying this to hurt you or confuse you because I believe you know as well as I do that his job came first. However,” she stresses before I can speak, “that does not diminish his love for you. That boy only wanted what was best for you. I know in my deepest heart that Max would want you to live. He would want you to be with a man who cherishes you and brings happiness back to your life. Not today, not tomorrow, but someday, Violet.”
I shift backward against the sofa cushion but grab onto Valentina’s warm hand. “You’re right about Max,” I whisper. “He loved me and took such brilliant care of me. At times, he split his love between his job and me, but that doesn’t take away what we had.”
“No, of course not.” She squeezes my hand.
“I don’t know what else to say.”
“That
’s okay. When you are ready, the words will resonate. Someday there will be a man who you want to see. He’ll be patient and understand that you need to be handled with care in some aspects of the relationship.”
“Maybe one day,” I say, smiling sadly. Valentina pulls me into her arms for another hug. I press my cheek to her shoulder and inhale slowly. “I love you,” I whisper.
“Always,” she says.
Later that night, after Stella and Blake drop me off at home, I wash off the remnants of my emotional breakdown in Valentina’s arms. Her words tumble through my mind in an endless whirlwind.
Find someone new? Being comfortable around Max took long enough. Not just the physical stuff—because I made him wait until we were dating a year to lose my virginity to him. Even then, an inherent sense of guilt had me struggling to come to terms with my sexuality. Max was my teacher through self-exploration and physical intimacy. If I’m being honest with myself, sex isn’t the only thing that concerns me about being close to a new man. Max saw me at my worst and my best. He even caught me picking my nose once. What happened? We laughed about it. Together. I was that comfortable around him. Could I ever have that level of familiarity with someone new?
I snuggle deeper into the sheets and tug the quilt up under my chin. It would be nice to sleep next to a man again. Rocky’s a good companion, but a dog doesn’t whisper into your ear to wake you up or tuck you against his hard chest.
Buzz
Felix is probably texting me. He works on Christmas every year in lieu of being at the station on New Year’s Eve. When he’s bored on shift, he sends me messages. Curling onto my side, I swipe the phone off the nightstand.
Merry Christmas from your favorite guy.
It’s a picture of Rocky cuddled in Cameron’s lap. My heart melts at the doe-eyed sleepy puppy. And then the man cuddling the dog and grinning into the camera. In a pair of ancient gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt, he should look sloppy. Instead, I can tell why he’s a model. The man is hot. Really freakin’ hot. With those sparkling white teeth, twinkling-with-mischief brown eyes, and facial hair that says ‘this disheveled look did not happen by accident,’ I can’t help but be attracted to him.
Good time with the family? I ask.
Always is. But I’m looking forward to getting home. Rocky’s been yapping about how much he misses you. He won’t shut up about it.
The corners of my mouth turn up and I shake my head at his silliness. Cameron never fails to pull some happiness out of my unhappy thoughts. Before I can respond, another message from Cameron vibrates my phone.
Tell him I miss him back.
Will I see you on NYE?
If you’re going to Stella and Blake’s, I’ll be there.
Good. Rocky’s not the only one thinking about you.
I stare at the phone in shock. He can’t mean . . . No. No way. If he misses me, it’s only as a friend. We have fun together. Platonic fun.
Am I not seeing something?
Cameron
New Year’s Eve. This time last year, I was on my way to a club in Miami with my teammates. We had a game the next night, and no one planned to drink much. Tonight I’m on my way to Blake’s driving because, again, I don’t plan to drink more than a couple. The snow started an hour or so ago, making it poor conditions for my Tesla so I’m in the Range tonight. Still, I’m glad Blake saved a spot for me in his garage, not wanting to deal with the slush ruining the pants on my suit. It’s not like me to pick a suit with a woman in mind, but tonight I chose the charcoal Tom Ford for Violet’s appreciation.
There’s a first time for everything.
I haven’t heard from Violet since our texts on Christmas Eve. We had games in Montreal and New York, and I left Rocky with my parents in Toronto during the trip so there wasn’t really a need to talk. The last text I sent her was pretty bold, but fuck if I care. If I’m going to make a move on this woman, my intentions need to be clear.
Using the garage door key Blake gave me a while back, I open the gate and navigate my car into the open slot at the far end of the garage. With a beep of the locks, I’m out of the car and prowling toward the door to the house.
The house bustles with activity. A chef and some waiters mill around the kitchen, talking serve times. Stella’s clucking over something that smells decadent, and she hardly notices when I tap her shoulder in greeting.
“Sorry,” she says lifting her eyes for a half second. “You’re one of the first to arrive and I’m not quite finished with this cake. Blake wouldn’t let me cook anything except dessert.”
“Such a taskmaster,” I joke.
“Right?” Stella rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide her smile.
With a pat on her shoulders, I continue my walk through the lower level of Blake’s city mansion. Someone decorated this place to the hilt. There are soft twinkling lights strung around the walls, dimming the lighting. Blake’s nowhere to be found and then I come to a stop in the media room, pressing my shoulder into the door jam.
“Is it the playlist called Boner Jams? That seems appropriate for tonight,” Felix says. He catches my eye above Violet’s head and grins gleefully at me. He loves to rile her.
Violet doesn’t notice my arrival, consumed by pressing buttons on a tablet mounted to the wall. Felix groans when she jabs him in the abdomen with her elbow.
“I do not have a playlist called Boner Jams, you sex-obsessed freak.”
He chuckles, rubbing at his abs. “Right. Right. Sorry. I must have mistaken your Spotify account for mine.”
“Or you like to tease me,” she says before pressing her thumb into the screen with a satisfied sigh. “There.”
“Maybe if you swore every now and again, I wouldn’t have to.”
She whirls around toward Felix, her hair swishing around her shoulders and catching the light in exactly the right way. A rainbow of browns and reds glisten in her wavy tresses. Perfect for my fingers to sift through or fist when I . . .
“You should know small town ladies do not curse,” she says primly.
“You should at least say fuck. The word’s therapeutic,” Felix says.
As if she feels my eyes on her, Violet jumps around and I get the full effect of the dress she’s wearing.
I’m the one who’s thinking about groaning the word fuck now. The fabric molds to her body, elongating her form. The color’s a mix between green and brown. Normally this hue wouldn’t do anything for me, but on Violet, it’s stunning. The material’s ribbed, starkly defining her silhouette. The fabric cuts out around her rib cage, and two slits on the side of the dress reveal a tantalizing expanse of her porcelain skin. What I would do to be alone with this woman. She’s blushing adorably at me having heard their conversation. In a dress that screams sin, she’s all innocence and charm.
If I wasn’t fucked before, I surely am now.
“Sorry, Violet, I’m going to have to agree with Felix on this one. A good swear word every now and then releases tension.” My voice sounds rough in my own ears. Of course, there are other ways I can help you relax.
Violet laughs then. “Not my thing. Never will be. I’m going to go my whole life without dropping an f-bomb.”
“We’ll see,” Felix says smugly.
The doorbell rings and Violet crosses the room to where I’m standing, still watching her with closely. She’s coming closer and closer until I realize she plans to hug me. This is a new development. One I’m going to milk. When my fingertips glide around her tight waist, sparks ricochet over every synapse in my body. I’m on fire. My dick jumps to attention faster than you can say sex, forcing me to keep our bodies further apart than I would like. The soft scent of strawberries fills my sense when I pull her close. My eyes fall shut as I press my lips to her ear. I allow my lips to brush against her skin, relishing in her sharp intake of breath.
“Hello, Violet.”
“Hey,” she stammers, her voice breathy.
I release her instantly and take a step backward, keep
ing my smile easy. As much as I want to consume Violet, my plan isn’t to scare her away by pushing her too much, too fast.
“Hey, Dominic,” Felix says who apparently left the room to greet other newcomers.
Frowning, I follow Violet toward the sound of voices. Of course, Stella invited her cousin to this party, but I can’t say I’m pleased to see Dominic here. The guy’s constantly badgering Violet and it makes me see red.
“Paige. I work with Stella and Dominic. And Blake, too.”
Great. That catty woman from the Scrapers marketing team somehow ended up here, too. She’s shaking hands with Felix, who doesn’t look impressed by her second-skin black dress. Violet comes to a halt when she finds Paige there, her shoulders are rigid.
“We’ll make the best of tonight, despite her being here,” I say softly.
Violet glances at me over her shoulder, her eyes flashing with appreciation. Thanks, she mouths, drawing my attention to her plump pink lips.
Is it just me or is it punishingly hot in here?
Dominic and Paige are at the head of a few other people entering the party, including my teammate Tucker and some stick-thin blonde. He’s here tonight to keep from getting in trouble at a nightclub and fucking up our chances of winning our next few games.
“Cam! I didn’t know you’d be here.” Blake’s younger sister, Zoe, moves through the room, effectively separating Violet and me.
“Hey kiddo,” I say, taking her into my arms for a quick hug.
“Where’s your date?” She cocks her hip out to the side, stamps her hand on it, and gives me a mock stern glance.
“Don’t have one,” I say.
“Very unlike one of Chicago’s most eligible bachelors,” she teases.
“Moved to Michigan and got some sass, I see.”
A few years ago, Zoe relocated to a small town on Lake Michigan. She works in the town library and lives there with boyfriend, Miles. I don’t know how she could trade the vibrancy of the city for New Point, but she loves living there. Miles appears, shaking my hand and launching into a conversation about football.
