by S. M. Dapelo
“Good enough reason for me,” I could almost see my father nodding. I heard some exclamations in the other room, and Luc came through the door.
“What the hell is going on?” he inspected me with a frown.
“They’re all ugly,” I started crying again. Luc sighed, reached down, and grabbed my phone. “I’m on it,” he said, and hung it up. He squatted down next to me, “Did you try everything on?”
“There’s one more bag,” Cindy piped up.
“This is Cindy. She’s my…” I started.
“Marc filled me in. He’s on the other side of the door, keeping the harpies busy. Your ugly ass cousin is hitting on him. Cindy, can you give Alley and me a minute?” he glanced at her.
“Sure,” she pranced out the door in a straight line.
“How is she still upright?” I asked. “She drank everything I did.”
“How drunk are you?” Luc questioned me. “You shouldn’t be drinking with your medicine.”
“I see three of you,” I answered to the middle one. Luc snorted, got up, and grabbed the last bag.
“I chose this dress and emailed Missy about it. I asked her to bring a bunch of odd or ugly dresses so you’d choose this one. I didn’t expect you to play a drinking game.” He pulled a dress out. “Let me help you with it. If you don’t like it, we’ll find something else. I won’t interfere.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to help me,” I started.
“You’re drunk. You won’t remember it,” he smiled. I nodded at his logic and pulled off the dress I had on. His eyes darkened as they took me in.
“Are you going to help me put the dress on?” I swayed.
He swaggered as he walked to me. “In a minute.” He put his hand on the back of my head and claimed my lips, teasing me with his tongue. He pulled back with a smile, “One question, and remember, you’re drunk, you won’t recall telling me. How experienced are you?”
“I’m a virgin. Okay,” I said in exasperation. “I had an overbearing brother and a terrifying father who made sure they scared anyone even a little interested in me away. Heck, Dad sent bodyguards on my artist retreats with my mom.”
He kept his eyes on mine, “Okay. Not too embarrassing, is it?” He put a dress over my head, turned me around, and buttoned the backup, kissing every spot before closing it. Then he helped me to the mirror. The dress was a soft A-line with an intricately beaded and embroidered bodice with a delicate off the shoulder illusion neckline and a soft net lying on a sparkling tulle skirt.
“It’s not ugly,” I smiled.
“Do you like it?” he placed his hands on my waist and stood behind me.
“I love it,” I leaned back against him.
“Good. The rest of the women can wait until the wedding to see it,” he smirked. “I’ll call your mom, Elena, and your new friend Cindy in.” He opened the door and said something. The three he had talked about walked in behind him.
Elena gave a soft smile, “Beautiful.”
“Finally,” sighed Cindy.
“Do you love it?” Mom put her hands together.
I sighed and downed another glass. Cindy giggled and grabbed the bottle, drinking from it. Luc’s brows went to his forehead. “Yes, Mom, I love it,” I said. Now can someone get me out of this before I bring everything I drank up?”
10
After Marc ran the harpies out to a luncheon at some expensive spot with Mom and Elena, Luca ushered me into the kitchen and handed me to Feddi. “Get her something to sop up the alcohol,” he ordered.
I blinked at Feddi, “You’re back. Where’s Cindy?” I looked around.
“She’s with your Mom and Elena. They decided they need to get to know her better. It’s driving the other women up the wall since they blew her off,” smiled Luc.
“Good. Cindy’s nice.” I sighed as I laid my head down, “Is it bedtime yet?”
“Button, it’s only three in the afternoon,” Luc kissed the top of my head. “You know, in drinking games, you only take one sip or chug, not the whole glass.” I saw Feddi’s brows hit his hairline, then he tilted his head back and laughed.
“I’ll have to remember that. How many did she have?” Feddi asked, taking something from the chef. He put a grilled cheese in front of me.
“I’m not sure, but there were four empty bottles in the room with her,” Luc had his hands on his hips.
“She shouldn’t drink while she’s on medicine,” Feddi remarked, “Mixed with booze, Wellbutrin can cause seizures.” He smirked at me, “Come on Drunky McDrinky, eat up. This should sop up some of the booze.”
I looked up at the three images of Luc and settled on the middle one, “Feddi’s a buzzkill.”
“He’s doing his job,” he answered.
“Do you want to review the other issue now? I can’t stay long,” Feddi was staring at Luc, who shook his head.
“When she’s sober, and it might take hours. Just keep up with everything online. You wanted this training,” he sighed. He ran a hand through my hair, “Are you going to be okay with Feddi? I need to go finish a conversation with your dad’s group.”
I nodded my head, “As long as he keeps feeding me, I’m good. I’ll go paint when I’m done.”
“Change your clothes first. The dress is an Armani,” he said as he walked out.
“M’kay,” I said, still eating. I looked at Feddi, “Where did you put all my paintings and did the glass wear travel, okay?”
“I hope so,” he smiled as he sat across from me, his navy-blue eyes sparkling “I sold the glassware to a Casino group in Vegas, eight of the paintings went to a hotel in D.C., bought and sent the photos of the dancers to my girlfriend Ronnie, and the others…”
I sat up, “You sold them all?”
“Most,” he nodded and took a piece of my sandwich, biting into it. “You have an expert eye for art. When the new gallery gets up and running, make sure you contact all the names I’ve put into the client files under ‘lots of money’.”
I dropped the rest of my sandwich, “What new gallery?”
“The one on the Plaza,” Feddi took a bite of his half of the sandwich, then stopped. “Luca didn’t tell you yet?”
I stood up swaying, the ground was still moving, but I started my way to the room where my father always held his meetings.
“Alessandra, stop.” I heard Feddi behind me, “Ta…lk to me. Don’t talk to him. Luca’s going to kill me. And he has so many reasons already, he doesn’t need another.”
“Not if I kill him first,” I muttered. “I already have a gallery.”
“No, you don’t. It burned down last night,” Feddi burst out.
I turned, ran into a wall, and screeched, “What?”
“The coffee place next door. Someone must have forgotten to turn something off. Half the block went up. Thank God we got all your stuff out in one day.” Feddi put his hands out, “Luca wanted you to be sober before he went discussed it with you.”
“How are you a mobster?” I yelled at him, “You can’t keep a secret to save your life.”
“He’s my Godson and great at logistics,” I heard behind me. I turned to see Luca glaring at Feddi. “You couldn’t keep your mouth shut? We’re working on your subterfuge skills.”
“She asked me where her paintings were? I told her about her new gallery. I didn’t know you were keeping it a secret until she said something,” Feddi gave an insulted look. “I didn’t tell her anything about the house,” he muttered.
Luc ran a hand over his face. “Feddi,” he ground out as the other man groaned.
“House?” I stared at Luc.
“Feddi, go in the room, sit by Marc, and say nothing for the rest of the day,” sighed Luc.
“My gallery burned down, and now what about the house?” I stared at Luc.
He threw his arms out, “I bought us a house here in town. We’re getting married in a month. We’re not living here for the rest of our lives.”
“Why is everything c
hanging?” I slumped down the wall to sit on the floor.
“Button, you’re drunk. Very, very drunk. I’ll show you everything tomorrow. Today, let’s just sober you up,” Luc put a handout to me to help me up.
“Don’t you have to train people?”
“Marc’s taking it on for now. We knew the minute we heard you screaming at Feddi that everything was going to hell quickly,” he sighed as he pulled me to my feet.
“What about talking to the police about Dom?”
“In the morning,” he repeated himself. “Come on, let’s get you to the room. You can paint, and I can review some files your dad gave me. The soberer we get you, the better. We have a meeting with a priest at five, then I thought I’d take you to dinner.” He rubbed his face, “Shit, you’re still going to be drunk when we see Father Ingalls.”
I frowned, “We’re going to dinner? Like a date?”
“Like a first date,” he nodded with a smile.
“Then what was all that time in the cabin?” I asked.
“Alone time,” he said as he opened the door to the Sunflower room. I sighed and stumbled into the sitting area. “Are you sure you want to paint?”
“Yeah, but I need to change,” I sighed. “I saw nothing I could get filthy in.”
“I have a couple of t-shirts you can wear,” he walked to a chest of drawers and opened it. Then walked back and handed me one in black.
“You don’t mind?” I frowned.
“Seeing you in my t-shirt?” He leaned forward and kissed me, causing me to catch my breath. “Personally, I think it’s sexy as hell.” He ran a finger down my cheek, “Go shower and change. I’ll be in here. If you don’t come out within twenty minutes, I’m checking on you.”
I nodded and did as he asked. After throwing my wet hair into a ponytail and putting his t-shirt on, I felt a little steadier and went into the sitting room, setting a blank canvas on the easel.
“Missing something, button?” I turned to see Luc standing in the doorway.
I turned and checked, I had several tubes of paint, different brushes, lots of sunlight. “I don’t see what,” I admitted.
“How about pants?” he laughed.
I looked down and shrugged. Luc’s shirt hit me right above the knees. “I’m swimming in this. For all you know, I could have shorts on under it.”
“Do you have shorts on under it?”
“Shut up. You’re a giant.” I picked up a palate and grabbed the tube of black. “This shirt is longer than some dresses I have. Why take a chance of getting my pants dirty? Those jeans Elena insisted on buying me are at least a hundred bucks a pair.” Yeah, I’d learned to economize when I was on my own.
“I think I want to see you in one of those dresses,” smirked Luc. “Are you going to use color today?”
“It’s impossible to do a photo negative painting if I use color.” I remarked, then thought for a second. “Well, maybe a little blue. Tell me about this gallery you bought me.”
“Why do you think I bought it for you?” He leaned against the door, arms and ankles crossed, “Maybe I was inspired to open one myself?”
“Were you?” I glanced up at him. He rolled his eyes. A knock at the door had him frowning.
“Hey, we need the two of you downstairs,” Marc walked in.
“We could have been naked,” Luc glared at his brother.
“One can hope,” sighed Marc, then he stopped when he saw me. “Why isn’t your fiancé wearing pants?”
“Because the two of you are so tall, I’ll never have to buy dresses again,” I turned back to the painting, stumbling a bit. Yep, still drunk. This is going to be an interesting painting.
“Next time, wait for me to open the door,” growled Luc. “Why are we needed downstairs? I’m sobering her up so we can get our pre-marital counseling done at five.”
“The cops are here. They’re insisting on meeting with your intended since she disappeared right before the hit,” Marc responded. “Don’t worry, Davis is here and so is Samantha. Davis is putting them in their place and Sam is throwing them completely off.” He chuckled, “It’s hilarious.”
“Who are Davis and Samantha?” I asked as I put down the brushes and sighed.
“Davis is your family lawyer. Shouldn’t you know him?” asked Marc.
“I never got in trouble,” I shrugged as I stumbled to the drawer looking for leggings. “Who’s Samantha?”
“Trouble,” growled Luca. “I thought she was on medical leave?”
“She’s a fixer,” Marc glared at his brother. “Ethan insisted she be here. He said he couldn’t leave her at home or she’d reset all the codes.”
“Why do I need a fixer? I never get in trouble?”
“One can hope my brother will fix you of your innocence,” smirked Marc as he walked toward the door.
I spun on Luc, “You told him?”
“Told me what?” Marc looked between us, taking in my anger and Luc’s hands up. Then his eyes went wide, and mouth fell open. “You’re a virgin?” he practically screamed. Then smiled, “I don’t think I’ve ever me one under the age of sixteen. You’re like a unicorn.”
“I didn’t tell him,” ground out Luc. He looked at his brother, who was laughing, “Out. Now.” He grabbed his older brother by his collar and pushed him out the door. “Get her some coffee,” he yelled as he slammed the door, leaning against it. “I told you it would just be between you and me. I keep my word.”
I glanced down at the floor, “Sorry, I think the booze is still affecting me.”
He ran a hand over his face, “Tell me you have underwear on.”
I ignored him, “I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” I responded as I kept looking for yoga pants. I heard the door close and pulled out a pair of jeans, yanking them on. Yes, I had underwear on, a thong, but underwear.
I tuned to see Luc smiling at me, “Glad you have some of your senses around you. Not that I would have minded being flashed,” He handed me a pair of ballet flats and after I put them on, grabbed my hand, and led me downstairs.
We met Marc on the stairs. “I’m going to be the hard ass. Any other time you meet with these guys you can destroy them.” He pointed at Luc, “But since you’re going in with Alley, take care of her. Her father and I are the cold ones now. Samantha’s already got them all discombobulated just by bending over. Got it?”
Luc frowned at him a moment, “Are they going to separate us?”
“Not gonna happen.” Marc shook his head, “The lawyer’s throwing a stink right now, saying how they’ve interrupted a party and Alley was drinking with a girlfriend. That she’s not in her right mind.”
“He’s not wrong,” I sighed.
Luc turned to me, “How many fingers?” He put up his hand.
“Not sure, but I only see only one of you now.” I looked at Marc, “Are they accusing me of something?”
“The detective working your brother’s case is young and brand new as a detective. He can’t be much older than you. He’s trying to make a name, so he’s attempting to push buttons,” Marc’s face was grim, “I don’t like him.”
“I have nothing to hide,” I shrugged.
“Your name’s Amato and about to be Romano. We always have something to hide,” Luc squeezed my hand and herded me into my father’s office. “No talking unless one of us give you the okay.”
“I get it,” I sighed as Luc lead me in, Marc behind us. Dad sat at his desk, staring at the two men in front of him, their backs to us. Most people would have withered under his observation. Next to him, a tall woman with dark red hair stood. Her eyes were a startling blue, and she wore a navy sheath with a matching jacket. I assumed she was Samantha.
“Ah, here’s Alessandra now with her intended,” my father’s face didn’t change. Samantha looked up and took in both Luca and I, her face changing to a magnificent smile. She was stunning.
“Fuck,” muttered Luca.
The detectives turned. The first was a bald African Ame
rican man, the same height as Luc. The second was six-foot, blond hair slicked back, and hazel eyed. Unfortunately, I knew him. “Son of a bitch,” I exclaimed, “You have to be kidding me.”
Luc swung his head toward me, his eyes bulging. Dad’s expression never changed. Samantha bit her lip to stop her smile. “Surprised to see us?” asked the blond.
“Surprised they’d let you near me when there’s a huge conflict of interest,” I ground out. “Luca, Marco, this is Dean Basden. The jackass who screwed up my prom.”
“That’s where I recognize you from,” Dad gave a slow nod. “I believe you owe me five hundred dollars for my daughter’s dress with interest, so we’ll call it an even thousand.”
“That was years ago,” Dean waved his hand, “And I’m the only one willing to look into your brother’s murder.”
“Lie,” Samantha said, leaning back onto the desk. Dean looked up at her, startled.
The darker man raised his hand, “Wait. You dated the suspect.”
“Suspect?” My mouth dropped open, “I’m not a suspect.”
“You most certainly are,” smiled Dean.
“Another lie,” Samantha sang, causing Dean to glare at her. “You need to stop now. You can’t lie to me.” Her smile went from joy to predatory.
“You dated her,” his partner got louder.
Marc got between all of us, “Everyone needs to calm down. Luca, take Alessandra into the kitchen and get something in her. Her blood sugar is dropping. You’re not talking to my sister-in-law until our lawyer speaks to your captain about this little revelation.”
Luc pulled me out of the room, “What part of say nothing didn’t you understand,” he growled.
“He threw me off,” I said. “And did you date that woman? She seemed overjoyed to see you.”
“He meant to throw you off.” Luc hauled me into the kitchen, “Sit. And dating Sam is gross. She’s my first cousin. I warned Marc, remember? Plus, she’s married, and she loves her husband more than anything in this world.”
“I already had grilled cheese,” I sighed. Good, because while most women don’t make me feel inferior, this one would be able to in six seconds flat.
