Page 79 of Salvatore

“Celebrities, people with money to throw around,” he answers.

“More businessmen like Vincent?” I ask.

He pauses before answering. “That’s right.”

He doesn’t seem affected, appearing relaxed. I can’t say I feel the same way. My parents’ house is sweet, and encompasses the certain warmth every home should have. Everything here seems sterile and cold. “Have you been here a lot?” I ask.

“A few times. For their house warming, engagement, and Christmas party. That sort of thing.”

“Christmas party?” I ask.

He rolls to a stop in front of a gate with a large white mansion perched on a hill, angling in his seat to face me. “Yeah,” he says, stroking my jaw with his finger.

When he told me he couldn’t come to North Carolina for Christmas because of his work schedule, I didn’t press, recognizing the hours he keeps. Perhaps I should have asked. “Is this the reason you wouldn’t come home with me?”

“I didn’t choose Vin over you,” he says. “I was only trying to spare you from all this.” He leans in for a kiss, trying to reassure me. But it’s not enough to squelch the horrible churn in my belly when the gates clang open. “We won’t stay long?” I ask.

“Dinner, dessert, and we’re out,” he promises.

He pulls ahead, stopping in front of a large circular driveway. I almost expect a butler to rush through the double doors. But when they open, Vin steps through, followed by a young woman who reminds me of Amy Winehouse.

“Hey, Sal,” Vin says, shaking Sal’s hand as he shifts the food he’s carrying beneath one arm. I try not to cringe when he kisses my cheek or think about where those lips have been. “Aedry, nice to see you again.”

I nod in a way I hope appears polite and perhaps shy, instead of what I’m really feeling. Without meaning to, my thoughts wander to Donnie. She’s no innocent lamb for choosing to be with a married man, but I can’t help feeling sorry for her. She’s miserable during the best of times and so lonely when he’s gone. And Vincent’s wife . . . I don’t even know her and my heart breaks for her.

Salvatore keeps me close to him as he bends to kiss her cheek. “Hi, Rita,” he says. “Good to see you.” He draws me to him. “This is Aedry.”

Rita’s smile is wide and she immediately throws her arms around me. “Hi, Aedry. So good to meet you, sweetie.”

“Hello, Rita,” I say. I return her hug. Like with Donnie, I sense her underlying loneliness, making it hard to keep my smile. “Thank you for inviting us to your home.”

“Of course!” she squeals. She turns to Sal, smiling as if she approves. “This is who you’ve been hiding from us? She’s gorgeous?gorgeous,” she emphasizes in her thick Jersey accent. She lifts the tray of rolls and pie from his hands and leads us into the house. “Come in, come in, I’m dying to get to know her.”

I hold tight to my smile. I don’t want to be rude or take my tray of rolls and smack Vincent over the head with it. Oh, wait. I do.

The house-warming gift I purchased is going back to Macy’s tomorrow with the hopes I can exchange it for a castration set, or perhaps something with metal teeth I can rip Vin’s balls off with.

“You all right?” Sal whispers in my ear.

I nod and lie. “I’ve been fighting a migraine all day.”

He knows I don’t suffer from migraines, but he runs with what I’m trying to say. “If you start to feel worse, let me know and I’ll take you home.”

“Rita sometimes gets migraines,” Vin interjects.

I’ll bet she does being married to you.

“She can probably give you something she takes,” he offers, helping me out of my coat.

“That’s not necessary. Thank you,” I say, watching him place my coat and Sal’s in the closet.

As I feel my temper surge, I remind myself of what Vincent has done for Salvatore, his brothers, and the community. But a man who mistreats women isn’t one I can like or respect.

My heels clip-clop across the white and black marble tile as I try to relax. “You have a lovely home,” I say. It is beautiful and modern, but almost too perfect. There’s no personality, only a reminder of the wealth within it.

Rows of oil paintings and artwork take up every few feet. The expanse of foyer and hall are not overcrowded, but it’s clear each one cost a small fortune.

“Thank you,” Rita responds, motioning to the food in her hands as Vin escorts Sal into another room. “What have you got here?”

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