Page 44 of Caesar DeLuca
“Yes?” I warble out, my body tense.
“You seem to reject compliments,” he says. “Anything positive or good I say about you. Does it make you uncomfortable?”
“I guess I’ve never considered?—”
“Because you are all the things I’ve said you are,” he presses on without pausing. “You are smart and kind. You are interesting. You are beautiful and very sexy. I am very attracted to you. Though it clearly makes you uncomfortable that I get so close to you.”
“Oh… I just… sometimes…” Then I trail off realizing he’s correct. “Freddie,” I say, sighing. “It’s a leftover habit from dating him.”
Caesar reaches around me to dial down the heat on the chili that’s now begun splattering on the counter. In doing so, his hand on my waist squeezes tighter and he leans over me. I’m caught up in his scent at a time where I’m already flustered by his closeness.
Once he’s turned down the burner, he leads me away from the stove. We go to the breakfast table pushed up against the far wall where I welcome the chance to sit down and recollect my thoughts.
“He sounds like a piece of shit,” he says.
“Freddie?”
“I may not be the sweet and romantic type, but your woman should always feel valued. She should be aware of how important she is in your life.”
“Says the man who mentioned a mistress.”
“I was speaking from traditional marriages in my lifestyle. I didn’t mean I’d…” he catches himself with a vexed scowl that settles into the harsh angles of his face. “The point is, if a man doesn’t make you feel good, then he is not the man for you.”
“I understand that now. After Freddie.”
“You said he changed his behavior.”
“After we were dating a while. His, um, career took off. I think it was an ego thing. The chili really should be done by now. Do you want some?” I spring up out of the chair I haven’t been sitting in for more than a minute. I’ve realized it wasn’t standing by the stove that threw me off; it was Caesar.
Even across the table he’s too much.
“I want to finish our conversation.”
“I’ll take that as you do want chili.” I snag two bowls from the cabinets and grab the big spoon I’ve used to stir the turkey chili. “What about you? You have so many thoughts about my ex. You have to have some of your own.”
“Any ex of mine is an ex for a reason.”
“Tell me about one. Your longest relationship.”
I take my time dressing up the bowls of chili, adding sprinkles of cheddar cheese and dollops of sour cream. I deliver both bowls to our respective seats at the table and then go for drinks.
Caesar watches every move I make, as if enthralled. “You know your way around the kitchen, don’t you?”
“It’s your turn to share.”
He picks up the spoon I hand him, then says, “Cecelia. We dated when we were still young. Only eighteen and nineteen. Puppy love.”
“And what happened between you and Cecelia that it didn’t work out?”
“My lifestyle,” he answers plainly. “She couldn’t handle what it meant to be the girlfriend of a mafia guy.”
My insides roil. I drop my gaze to my bowl of chili. “Oh. I see.”
“It takes a special kind of woman to handle it.”
Right…
“She was very needy. She didn’t understand I had to put the work in to earn my stripes. Even within my family, I had to prove myself. Blood or not, you don’t just get handed the titles. You have to deserve it.”
