Scar
I watch him go, not sure what to make of that. Carmine’s softened over the years, especially since he met Brice. He’s been trying to take his family legit, but it’s difficult to give up generations of criminal enterprises, especially when they make a ton of money.
Still, he’s angrier than I would’ve guessed. Might be that he’s worried I’ll get him embroiled with the Callahans, but he has to know I’d never do that to him.
Maybe it’s as simple as he’s worried about me. Maybe even worried about Rita.
But regardless of how he feels, I know Carmine would never do something that would get me killed, like tell anyone about my situation.
“He’ll get over it,” Ford says then grins at me. “Wife, huh? She’s hot. Good for you.”
“Thanks.” I squeeze his shoulder, a cold doubt creeping into my guts.
Carmine thinks I’m going to get myself killed, and what if he’s right? What if I dragged Rita into something I can’t handle?
But no, we can do this. That’s why I told Ford about my spark with Rita-that’s the basis for a relationship. With that in play, we can fool just about anyone.
As I rejoin the table, Rita’s telling stories from her college days to the girls. I listen attentively, watching her lips move, thinking about that mouth against mine. As she talks, my mind drifts off.
The guys are right to worry. Not only about the Callahans-that’s a problem in itself-but about what might happen to me and Rita as this shit keeps going. I can’t pretend like we’re not flirting, like we’re not testing each other’s boundaries. I catch her prancing around the apartment in tiny little outfits, teasing me like she thinks it’s funny.
And I tease her right back. I want that girl more than I’ve wanted a woman in my entire life-but that’s a problem.
My world doesn’t have room for Rita. I have goals, dreams, and none of those involve a wife. For now, she’s useful, but long-term? Beyond the Callahans? I don’t know what’s going to happen.
I don’t want to tangle her up in my affairs and ruin her. I don’t want the other crime families I work for to learn about her, to court her, to try to curry favor with her in order to get closer to me. And I also have enemies, families that want to hurt me and some of my clients. Will that animosity extend to Rita?
There are a lot of angles in all this.
Yet for me, it boils down to one thing.
The feeling I get when I put my hand on her thigh under the table-and she doesn’t brush it away.
She could. We’re not performing right now.
But she doesn’t.
Dinner is uneventful. The group talks, has a few drinks, jokes around. When it’s over, I stand with Ford and Carmine near the oak tree while the girls head to the bathroom before we head out.
“I like her,” Ford says earnestly. “At least you picked someone cool and hot to fake marry.”
“I still think this is a bad idea,” Carmine says, but his expression’s softer now. “But I like her too.”
“She understands the risks and she’s not doing this for free.” I glance away from them toward the tree. “She’s in this for the same reasons I am. Money and power. That’s what it always comes to for us, isn’t it?”
“Always does,” Ford agrees, but his voice is quieter now. “Why is that? What’s it get us? All this money.”
“Don’t get soft on me now,” Carmine says with a laugh. “You both know what it’s all about. Family and stability. Money, power, wealth, connections, those are all just a means to an end. The end is family.”
“So says the mafia Don.” I grin at him. “Things are simple for you. Build the Scavo Famiglia, take it legit. Meanwhile, the rest of us are left trying to find meaning in all this mess.”
Ford punches my arm. “Why the fuck are you getting philosophical on me?”
“Because it’s something I think about,” I say, pushing him away. “You have Kat. You have babies. What the fuck do I have? Just the next thing, that’s all. I wasn’t born into a mafia or into a rich family like you, Ford. I was born with nothing.”
The guys go quiet. I don’t bother trying to tell them how dissatisfied I’ve been in my life the last couple years. How even though I’ve been wildly successful, everything feels empty. Routine. Uninteresting.
This Callahan thing, it’s my ticket to the next level, to new challenges, to bigger and better opportunities.
To them, it probably doesn’t seem like it’s worth the risk.
But to me, there’s nothing else.
I have no strong bonds, no strong ties. No wife, no kids, no real family. Work is everything.
It gives me meaning, purpose. It gets me up in the morning.
Otherwise, what would I be?
That’s another reason why I shouldn’t get too close to Rita: I’m a fucking workaholic. Married to my job.
In this case, that’s almost literally true.
“Just be careful,” Carmine cautions. “That’s all I’m saying. Don’t get that girl killed.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
The girls come back. I steer Rita away from the group. We leave with a wave, her hand through my arm, her head leaning on my shoulder. She’s tipsy from drinking too much champagne. I like it when she’s bubbly like this, a little bit loose. She smiles up at me as we descend the front steps to the valet’s station to wait for the car.
“I had a good time,” she says, sounding surprised. “I like your friends. I still don’t think you seem like the friends type. But then again, I’m pretty sure they’re both criminals, so that makes sense.”
“Only Carmine,” I say, smiling at her. I brush some stray hairs from her face. Fuck, she looks beautiful. “I told them about us.”
“About-” She pauses, blinking. “Our arrangement?”
“Don’t worry. Carmine and Ford are my brothers. They needed to know.”
“If you think it’s safe,” she says, chewing her lip, but I can tell she’s not happy about it. “Only I wish I’d realized. Would’ve been nice to stop pretending.”
“Are you pretending right now?” She tries to pull away, but I hold on tight, not letting her go. “It’s fine. I’m only teasing.”
She relaxes. “I’ve had too much champagne, okay? It makes you more attractive than usual.”
I laugh at that. “Please, we both know you’re the one constantly thirsting after me.”
“Me? Thirsting? You’re like in the Sahara whenever I’m around. Drooling with thirst. You want a drink of me, Scar Scarfoni.”
The car pulls up-and I don’t reply.
Because she’s fucking right.
I do want a drink of her. A deep, long drink, and even then, I doubt I’ll be satisfied.
But there are a thousand reasons not to cross that line. Rita’s a normal girl with normal problems-if I drag her deeper into my world, I’ll only corrupt her.
Ruin her.
She doesn’t need that.
For now, we’ll play the game, and that’ll have to be enough.