Page 16 of Beauty and the Boss

We stand together in silence, trying to avoid the barman’s eye while looking inconspicuous against the busy bar, and a few minutes later we see Cecelia emerge from the doorway. She looks upset and my instinct is to go straight over to her, when someone grabs her arm from behind. I move forward for a better look and catch my breath. It’s him. It’s Michael Luciano in the fucking flesh. Here, in Sicily.

Cece twists away but I don’t like the way she looks back up at him, stubborn yet suggestible, like all he has to do is say the right thing right now and she’ll be his.

He doesn’t say anything though, just stares down at her like their eyes are magnetized. I clench my fists as I watch them. It takes a lot of effort not to intervene, not to go over and punch him straight in his fucking face, pluck his eyes from his head so that he can never look at her ever again. But Cece wouldn’t appreciate a public display of violence, of possession. I’m relieved when after a few seconds she walks away from him.

“Get me out of here,” she pleads as she reaches us, visibly shaken.

I take pleasure in draping a protective arm around her. “Come on, Cece, this place is a dive anyway,” I say, throwing a look back over my shoulder. My eyes meet Luciano’s and I project as much disgust into my stare as I can. And now that I’m looking at him close up, I realize Micah’s the goddam double of him. I feel a sharp stab of pain in my gut. There’s no denying it now—this is the guy who put a kid in her. This is Micah’s father. No wonder Dante and Connie wouldn’t tell me. They knew I would have hunted him down and made him pay for defiling my gorgeous girl. Well, now I know exactly where he is. All the better for keeping an eye on, and I will make him pay, one way or another. But first, as always, Cecelia is my priority and I need to get her home safe.

I swing by to check on Cece after the scene in the restaurant yesterday. After I took her and Connie home, they closed sisterly ranks, like they did when we were kids, retreating straight upstairs, whispering furiously along the landing then closing Cece’s bedroom door, literally shutting me out. The maid, Maria, was cleaning in the hallway so I didn’t feel like I could follow them and eavesdrop, and I knew Dante and Micah were home, causing another barrier to the girls, so I skulked straight off, needing time alone to think things through.

Today is a new day though and it’s time to put my new plan into action.

“Hey, Raphy,” says Cece from the hallway as Maria opens the door.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I say, stepping inside and enveloping her in a hug. She smells like flowers, sweet and fresh. “How are you?” I ask as we walk through the house and out onto the patio. I’ve been here so often over the years I could navigate my way around blindfolded. I think I know it better than my own house, and growing up, I certainly felt more welcome here than there. I still do. My own parents’ thinly veiled hints about me moving out will be outright demands before too long, especially where my father’s concerned.

As we step out into the sunlight, I see Micah playing on the grass, a large collection of toys sprawled out around him. He spots me straight away and comes bounding over, displaying his usual exuberance for everyone and everything.

“Uncle Raph-Raph!” he shouts, crashing into my legs.

I pretend to stumble backwards from the force of him. “Watch out, Mighty Micah! You’re too much of a match for me!”

He laughs delightedly then zooms off again, one arm out like Superman.

Cece smiles at her son’s antics. “I’m okay,” she says in response to my question about how she is. She folds her arms and stares out towards where Micah is playing but I can tell her mind is elsewhere. “Thanks again for yesterday, for bringing us home.”

“No problem. Who was that you were talking to at the restaurant?” I ask, testing the waters to see if she’ll tell me voluntarily or whether she’ll keep me in the dark like she’s been doing more and more lately.

She frowns and looks down. “Just someone I knew once. Don’t worry about it.”

I kick the back of one of the patio chairs with my toe and nod my head, annoyed. Why won’t she let me in? I’ve done plenty of googling this past five years to find out more about him but just like when Cece came home and Dante and I tried to find out more information, online searches don’t reveal much. Whoever he is and whatever he’s done, he’s obviously got enough power to make sure it’s all locked down, and although Cece might have a key to some of it, she’s never revealed it to me.

Maria appears with cold drinks for us all and we take a seat at the outdoor table, the parasol shading us from the afternoon sun.

“Anyway, the reason for my visit is twofold,” I tell her. “One, to check you’re okay—which we’ve now covered—and two, to present a proposition.”

“A proposition?” says Cece, putting her elbows on the table and resting her head on her hands. My favorite face in the world looks both wary and curious. “Whatever do you mean, dear Raphy?”

I smile at her affectionate refrain for me and take a mouthful of freshly squeezed lemonade. “Well, it’s a certain someone’s birthday coming up and I propose we do something special. I’d love to take you to that new cocktail bar in town to celebrate.”

Instead of being pleased, as I’d hoped, she sighs and glances over to Micah who’s pretending the blanket laid out on the grass is a magic carpet, or perhaps a surfboard. “You know I don’t like making a fuss of my birthday. Not after my eighteenth.”

I lean forward. “I know that, Cece, but don’t you think it’s about time you started to again? Yes, that particular birthday ended in the most terrible way, but all the more reason to make sure your future birthdays are memorable for the right reasons. And this cocktail bar is called Cinque Anni – five years! If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.”

She flinches at the mention of that fateful night and sits back in her chair.

“He’s right, mia figlia.” We both turn at the sound of Dante’s voice.

“Papa!” Cece jumps up and kisses her father’s cheek. “You’re home early. Come join us.”

Dante reaches over to shake my hand warmly then sits on the other side of Cecelia, laughing and giving Micah a hug as his grandson crashes into him. I’m pleased he’s arrived. Although not planned, I already know his intervention will swing things my way.

“So you agree, Dante? Cecelia should start celebrating her birthday again?” I ask, keen to continue the conversation.

“I do agree,” he says, taking one of his daughter’s hands as Micah runs back to his toys. He regards her with affection. “The day you were born was joyous, my beautiful girl. And you have brought us all joy every year ever since. Your birthday is a day to celebrate all that you are and all that you have achieved, and I wish that you would see that too. It has been five years, and it is now time to put the past behind you, once and for all, yes? So let Raphael spoil you and take you out to some fancy bar. It is a thoughtful proposition.”

I can see that his words have the desired effect as Cece’s face softens and she smiles at him, her eyes glistening. She looks over at me and takes my hand too, creating a link between us all, exactly how it should be.

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