Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
T he Forzas house had hardly changed in the twenty years since he d last been welcome here. Like the other homes in the neighborhood, it was small, with stucco walls and a red tile roof. The Joshua tree in front had grown taller than the roof. He wondered if it had bloomed in the spring. Although the yard was landscaped with stones, cacti, and yuccas, a pot of cheerful yellow lantana flourishing on the porch showed off Mary s green thumb.
He reached for the enormous bouquet of blue hyacinths. The woman at the flower shop said they were best for apologies, and he d bought every stem they had. After locking his car, he strode up the front walk.
He paused for only a second at the bottom of the steps up to the house. The last time he d been here, only a week before prom, Mary had made a giant tray of lasagna. God, her lasagna was delicious. He never ordered it at a restaurant anymore because it was always a lifeless imitation of hers.
After dinner, they d ended up in the garage, where her dad was tinkering with a 64 Mustang. It looked like shit on the outside, but the engine was so clean they could ve eaten their dessert off it. Her dad had let him help replace the belt on it and had clapped him on the shoulder after. They d laughed over the greasy streak on his preppy button-down shirt.
He could imagine how much Mr. Forza hated him when he didn t show the night of prom.
In the weeks leading up to prom, he d planned it all out. He d bring her flowers. Not like today s armful of hyacinths but a corsage in a clear plastic box. A single red rose, surrounded by a spray of tiny yellow roses and delicate baby s breath he d bought to symbolize his hope to turn their friendship into something more. His pulse had pounded when he d imagined sliding it onto her wrist. Kissing her soft cheek and inhaling her coconut shampoo. Weeks later, he found the corsage desiccated in the refrigerator, the roses brown and lifeless, and chucked it into the trash.
How many times had he imagined what could ve happened if the investigators hadn t showed? He d have marched up these steps, his head held high, and shaken Mr. Forza s hand. He d have promised to drive safely, not have a drop to drink, and have her home by whatever time her dad had said. And then Mary would have walked in, wearing…
He sighed and trudged up the stairs. He didn t deserve to imagine her dressed up for him. He d asked her to prom under false pretenses. He d known his father dealt with some shady people in the past—he d never forget the night a pair of thugs broke the fingers on his father s left hand and threatened to do the same to thirteen-year-old Alex—but he d promised he d gone straight.
He hadn t.
Alex s black BMW, his tux, and even Mary s corsage had all been bought with stolen money. Honest, upstanding Mary would ve been sickened to know about the college funds, the retirement accounts, the rainy-day savings that had disappeared into his father s pocket. Or rather, into that money pit, the Paradise.
He d done her a favor by not showing up that night. He wouldn t allow himself to think about what could have happened if he d taken her to prom. Even if his dream of leveling up their friendship had come true, it would ve all gone to shit when she learned his life was a lie.
He rang the bell. Seconds later, a shadow passed behind the window shade, followed by the soft shuffle of footsteps on hardwood. When they paused, he imagined her leaning forward to peer through the peephole, deciding whether to let him in or order him to go away.
Ten long seconds later, the deadbolt clicked, and the door swung inward. Mary stood in the doorway, her curls piled on top of her head with a clip, her black work polo untucked over—he gulped—pink leggings that had looked like bare legs for a moment, and old-fashioned scuff slippers on her feet.
What are you doing here, Alex? We said everything we needed to at the shop today.
I— He licked his lips. These are for you. He extended the hyacinths to her and held his breath.
Her eyes softened as she took in the bouquet. Of course she knew what they meant. It was her business to understand the language of flowers. She took them from him. Thank you.
He cleared his throat. I m sorry I was an ass today. If he had more time, he d take it slowly. Leave it there. Send her more flowers at work on Monday. Something that meant friendship. But he had to turn around Rochelle s wedding ASAP. Can we talk?
She tilted her head, and one curl floated across her forehead. He wished he could brush it aside, twist it around his finger and let it spring free. But he didn t have that right. He never had.
Okay. She turned and led him toward the kitchen. He closed and locked the door, then followed.
The kitchen used to be yellow with light wood cabinets, but it had been repainted in a vibrant orange-red, and the cabinets had been painted white. The round white table in the corner was the same one where he and Mary used to do homework together, guzzling those disgusting Pepsi Blues her brothers liked. The chairs looked more rickety than he remembered.
When Mary reached into an upper cabinet for a clear vase, her golf shirt rode up, showing the generous curve of her ass. Quickly, Alex looked away. That peek at her delectable shape was not for him. Not today. Not ever.
The Forzas refrigerator had always been covered in photos, stuck to it with kitschy Las Vegas souvenir magnets. Now that it belonged to Mary, it was no different.
He walked over, drawn to the photo of Mr. Forza, seated in what appeared to be the church s fellowship hall, surrounded by Mary, Michael, and Rafe. He looked frail, as he had at the end. I miss your dad.
Mary ran water into the vase. So do I.
The prayer card from his funeral Mass peeked out from under a Viva Las Vegas magnet. Alex s own copy was stuck in the family Bible at his mother s place. They d gone together to pay their respects, but Alex had sat in the back pew.
Nearby was a photo that surprised him. What s this? Are your brothers wearing…lederhosen?
She chuckled and peered around his shoulder. We went to my brother Gabe s amusement park in Ohio. I don t think you ve met him. That s him in the green shirt. He was adopted and only came back into our lives last year. His fiancée, whom you met last year, is the entertainment director, and she let us all dress up in the costumes from the show.
Let you? He eyed the mulish expressions on Michael s and Rafe s faces.
Okay, more like let me. And made Michael and Rafe. I suspect Gabe was into it, though.
Gabe did look happy, with his arm slung around his pretty fiancée. She wore a white gown, the stiff skirt encrusted with sparkly crystals. Alex remembered how she d sung like an angel at his piano bar. On the other side of Gabe, Mary absolutely glowed in a red satin gown that did amazing things to her bustline.
You looked incredible.
Thanks. It was a little tight, and I kept thinking I was going to pop a seam.
Alex grunted and turned away. If he looked too much longer, he was going to pop a seam in his trousers.
Wine? Mary asked.
The tightness in his chest loosened. She must have liked the flowers. Please.
She pulled a bottle of Chianti out of the refrigerator. Sorry, it s nothing fancy.
It s fine. He kept himself from wincing. Since the wine was cold, he wouldn t be able to taste it anyway.
She poured him a glass and handed it to him. Then she tucked the vase of hyacinths against her chest and carried it to the tiny living room. She set her glass of wine on the glass-topped coffee table, then centered the flowers next to it. Tucking one foot under her, she sank into the corner of the sofa.
Like everything else in the house, the sofa was small, with only two cushions. Alex wedged himself into the other corner, giving her as much space as he could. He sipped his wine and found it not terrible, despite the wrong temperature. Is this a Chianti Classico?
It s my favorite. A pleased smile curled her lips.
Have you ever been?
To Italy? She snorted. Not exactly in my travel budget. I suppose you have?
I try to go every couple of years. Most of the hotel s wine cellar is Italian, and I go for research.
Research, huh? Must be nice. She sipped her wine and regarded him over the rim of her glass.
Right. Groveling time.
I apologize again for showing Rafe those photos. I…I got carried away.
You sure as hell did, she said. There were a dozen better ways you could ve let me know he d done a shirtless one.
Any one of the dozen could have brought them closer together instead of pushing them apart. I m sorry. Truly.
Alex, I m always going to side with my brothers. They re the only family I have.
I know. They d stood together even before their father died. I shouldn t have laughed at him.
No, you shouldn t. But it reminded me of my priorities. I need to support my brothers. I can t be away working some big wedding when they need me. If I d been there for him at that photo shoot…
What would you have done, Mary? He s an adult. Would you have held him back from that opportunity?
Opportunity? She snorted. More like exploitation.
Is it exploitation if they promised not to use the shirtless one and if they paid him five Gs for the rest?
Five thousand? Are you serious?
Check s in the mail. I told you I know everything that goes on in my hotel.
She sipped her wine and stared at a spot on the coffee table. Five thousand was probably a lot to a family like theirs. Was she thinking of all the things they could do with it? But a windfall wasn t in his best interest. Not if he wanted to get her back on the Richardson wedding.
He knew kind-hearted Mary would eventually forgive him. She d forgiven him for standing her up at prom. But this time, he didn t have years to wait. It was time to grovel.
I feel terrible about what I did. How can I make it right? He splayed his open palms.
The flowers were a nice touch. And coming here. I can never stay mad at you for long.
He gusted out a sigh. Ah, Mary. I don t deserve you.
Deserve me? She arched her brow. Of course you don t.
His stomach clenched. I didn t mean?—
She laid her hand on his knee for less than a second, but it was enough to send a wave of warmth straight to his belly. I m kidding. When did you get so serious?
That night the investigators came. But he couldn t say that. I honestly am sorry. And I ll personally ensure the modeling agency destroys all copies of that photo. If that s what Rafe wants.
Ask them to give the original to Rafe and let him decide. And destroy all the copies. Including that one on your phone.
He pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolled to the photo, and showed Mary each step as he deleted it from the device and the cloud backup. Better?
Better. She drained her wineglass. Now that s settled?—
There s something else. He reached for her hand and held it. I need you, Mary.
She blinked her eyes wide. God, he could get lost in their brown depths.
Rochelle needs you, too. We can t do this wedding without you.
She slipped her hand from his and rubbed the back of her neck. Of course you can. You have an entire staff?—
None of them are as good as you. Rochelle doesn t want to work with anyone else. She asked me to remind you that she s hormonal and pregnant.
Her eyes softened. She only thinks she needs me.
You know as well as I do that the customer is always right. Please, Mary. Come back. If not for me, then do it for Rochelle.
What about the boys? They can t run the shop without me.
I ll double your fee. You can use it to hire help at the shop.
Double? Her eyebrows rose.
Triple. He hated the desperate tone of his voice. But there was nothing for it. The Paradise was on the line.
She smirked. How did you become a casino magnate with those terrible negotiation skills?
He shrugged. Just lucky, I guess. Does that mean you ll do it?
She paused for a moment, and he could see her weighing her family against the money. Which she d undoubtedly use to help her brothers. Finally, she said, I ll get started tomorrow. When she lifted her chin, the warmth again filled his stomach.
Like her namesake, she was the queen of angels, and he was nothing but a sinner. But he d keep that hidden. He couldn t afford to lose control again. Not if he wanted the Paradise.