Page 66 of Shadow Dance

Then I had him take me to Planned Parenthood so I could get checked out. It was one of the more humiliating experiences of my life, but the fact he was so calm and supportive made it a little easier.

I got the results back a few days later. I’m clean, thank God.

Tucking my bag into the trunk of Cal’s car, I look over to see him and Griff talking quietly. As usual. They’re always so damn secretive, plotting and planning their next moves. I grew up in this world, but it was different with my parents. Mom had her own life, her own passions, but she and Dad shared everything. They were, and are, always by each other’s sides. He treats her like she’s precious, his equal.

Callum treats me like a possession. He doesn’t know it, but the last time we fucked was the last time, period. He can’t have my body with my permission, and he can’t have it without. The past year has been such a struggle, and it’s just not supposed to be this hard. I don’t love him anymore. I’m not even attracted to him. And as backwards as it sounds, being intimate with him now feels like cheating on Jaime.

Jaime peeks at me one last time, giving me a tiny smile before pulling out of the driveway. I wish I was going with him. We leave a minute later with Griff right behind us. I wish I wasn’t so anxious. I even smoked a tiny bowl this morning in an effort to quash the trepidation bubbling in my gut. It helped a little, but I can’t say I’m looking forward to this weekend.

Dario and Gigi always host the entire family. I come from a large, rowdy family of my own, so I can appreciate that, but the De Leons are nothing like the Kellys. Last year was a nonstop barrage of heavy drinking, political bickering, and snide commentary from Dario and Gigi’s bitchy twin daughters. I felt like everyone was sizing me up as Callum paraded me around like his soon-to-be trophy wife, and this was before I started seriously questioning our relationship.

Callum’s mom, Paloma, and her husband will be there this time around. I don’t know her all that well, so I’m not sure what to expect, but Callum never quite got over her leaving when he was younger. I’mhoping he’s able to let go of his resentment enough to enjoy his family, but I’m not holding my breath.

“He’s always wantedto expand out there, he just wasn’t sure how he was gonna manage it, you know?” Callum says. He’s been talking about the new club in Las Vegas since we left the house. “Until now. Wait’ll you see the Strip, Maeve. You’ve never seen anything like it. Not even New York City.”

“Really?” I raise my eyebrows at that. Callum’s a city boy, through and through. His dad’s family settled in Brooklyn during the late 1800s, around the time it was incorporated into New York City, and he never lets anybody forget it.

“I mean,” he backtracks, “nothing’s like the City. You know? I’m just sayin’, Vegas is pretty fuckin’ fantastic. Uncle Dario said if things go well, we’ll build another one I can design from the ground up. I have ideas …”

His voice drones on as I close my eyes. I wish I could be excited for him, but I feel so disconnected from him. From us. I can’t remember the last time he asked me what I wanted to do or how I felt about, well, anything.

As I listen to him crow about the family business and what a prime candidate he is to take over one day, I wonder once again if Dario truly knows what Callum is like. He must. There’s no way a man as shrewd as him can be that blinded by familial affection, right? Could he be sending Callum to Las Vegas because it’s safer than having him here?

Dario is arrogant, but he’s careful, which is why he’s successful. He plays the long game. But Callum puts himself out there, his ego calling the shots when it should be his common sense. I can’t help but think that eventually, one of his enemies will succeed in getting at him where the others have failed.

Then there are the Feds. It’s crossed my mind several times that we could all be under surveillance. I imagine all these different roads, coming from various directions, headed toward each other. One day, they’re all going to intersect and I don’t want to be caught in the crossfire.

The De Leonslive in San Anselmo’s affluent Sleepy Hollow neighborhood, in a gorgeous Spanish Colonial-style mansion that looks like something you’d see in a movie. Griffin flashes his lights as we arrive before driving off. He’s on his way to the airport now, so he can spend Thanksgiving in Brooklyn with his parents and the rest of the Barry clan.

Callum keys in the gate code and we cruise up the driveway, parking in the circular drive beside a gaudy fountain. Gigi meets us at the door, gushing over how good it is to see us as she covers our cheeks in lipstick kisses. She’s gone strawberry blonde again, and she’s wearing a cutesy apron over her jeans and sweater although we all know she won’t be the one cooking tomorrow’s meal. I like her, though. I’ll never understand how she can be with someone like Dario, but who knows? Maybe she was like me once and just never got out.

Or maybe she’s cool with all of this.

“Your uncle’s in the study with the guys, honey,” she says, her martini glass sloshing as she gives Callum a gentle push. “He’s been waiting for you.” Then she slings her arm around me, tugging me toward the hall. “You want to get set up, Maeve? I had the room redone recently—I think you’ll love it.”

“Oh, sure. Let me just, uh, say hi to Dario first,” I murmur, leaving my bag in the foyer. He can be a passive-aggressive asshole, and I can see him taking my failure to greet him as a personal affront. Power plays, mind games; it’s all par for the course.

Dario beams when I edge into the study, giving him a smile and a wave. “Maeve, my dear. How are you?”

“I’m well. How are you, Dario?”

“Oh, I’m fantastic, honey. You know you can call me Uncle, right?” He chuckles slyly, winking at me, as I try not to grimace. Callum frowns faintly, rubbing his nose. “You’re looking good, Maeve, really good.” He smacks his nephew’s shoulder, something like approval painting his features.

“Thanks,” I say, backing into the hall. “I’ll leave you to it.”

I rub my chest, trying to slow my racing heart as I return to the foyer for my bag.

It’s a den of snakes, this place.

Dinner’s alcohol-soaked and tedious.Harlowe and Hattie, Dario and Gigi’s teen daughters, sit around making faces and sarcastic comments while their mother gets plastered and their father drones on and on about local politics and building permits. I excuse myself as soon as it’s socially acceptable and escape to the guest room, where I shower, change into my pajamas, and climb into bed, hoping to be asleep by the time Callum joins me.

When I wake up in the morning, he’s passed out beside me. Grateful that we made it through the first night without incident, I get dressed and venture into the kitchen. Hattie ignores me in favor of her phone, but she softens a bit when I ask her how to use the espresso machine.

“And there’s milk in the fridge,” she adds, grabbing a pastry from the box on the counter before disappearing.

I decide to drink it black, adding sugar until I can pretend it tastes a little like cafecito. My heart warms at the thought, and I think of Jaime, wondering if he’s enjoying his time away. Does he miss me like I miss him?

That night, I put on heels and a knee-length, emerald green cocktail dress I’ve had for years. Callum’s already dressed and hanging out with his family when I join them. He’s attentive and sweet, but it’s an echo of what used to be genuine, a performance for his family. I slip into my role too, smiling and sipping wine and making small talk with Paloma and Gigi, the aunts and cousins.

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