Chapter 2 – Poppy
While Penelope and the butler engaged in a heated conversation, a mixture of Italian and English, I dove out of the kitchen and up the front stairs. I needed a minute. It might have been only a half hour since I left, but being back with the scavengers rattled me more than I cared to admit.
Once in the safety of my room, the sweet rush of relief was nearly overwhelming. I sagged against the closed door.
“Mama?” a small voice called.
The smile that curved over my lips was the result of a burst of pure happiness.
“Sshhh,” I breathed, crossing the room and settling on the bed. “You need to go back to sleep.”
Brady already was. His eyes were closed, and slumber filled his chubby cheeks.
He still looked like a little boy, but deep in my heart a pang of sadness resounded.
In the next year, those cheeks would lose the last vestige of babiness.
So would his hands. Just a blink, and my little man was going to be a big boy. A six-year-old, starting first grade.
A sigh fluttered from my heart out my lips.
At least homeschooling would keep him home with me.
We’d already started on the reading curriculum, but these two weeks were a break from any formal schooling.
He was so eager, soaking up knowledge, that doing a formal school year seemed a disservice.
The moment the kindergarten textbooks were finished, we’d actually started the first lessons in math and writing in the next grade just the other week.
It might be the middle of June, but he led the way, forging the path of his learning.
I was just the guide to help him on the journey.
I brushed back the tangled mop of hair that fell over his forehead.
He sighed into my touch and relaxed into a deeper sleep.
The temptation to kick off my ballet flats and curl into the blanket with him was strong.
When we returned to North Dakota, we would be moving him into his own bedroom, with a big boy bed, which I’d already ordered the cowboy comforter for.
This wouldn’t be the last time he snuggled in my bed, since he was prone to bad dreams, but it was time to break the habit of co-sleeping.
“Five years,” I whispered. “Where did the time go, big man?”
There was a song on the country radio station about not knowing how much a woman would want these days to come back. How fast the time flew. I hated that song with every fiber of my being. I already knew I missed these days. I knew it now, without needing to take a good look around.
But as I always did, I focused on the future. There would be new adventures, fun milestones, and good memories to come. The baby stage might be over, and the toddler was dissolved into history, but my son was forever mine.
I rubbed my belly. The thought of having another little one to fill the ache was strong, but there was no way I could be a single mom of two.
Other women did it, but that path wasn’t for me.
Adoption had been the only way to have what I wanted.
And who knew! Maybe in the future I could adopt another one.
One thing was for certain, I wasn’t using a man to accomplish a family of my own.
It wasn’t that I hated sex—I’d had it a few times.
But it was the control aspect. I escaped an arranged marriage, and while Alessandro wouldn’t have been a bad man to marry, I wasn’t tying myself to a man.
Not even to have a family. No, I escaped. I was free. And that was priceless.
Even hooking up with a stranger to get pregnant was out of the question. There would always be that tie, the question of what if lingering in the back of my mind. I didn’t want another human being to have that power and influence in my life.
I smoothed back Brady’s hair once more. It stayed for a moment, flopped over his scalp, before falling back to cover his forehead.
“Cousin Mikey was right, maybe we should give you a mullet,” I muttered and then smiled at the idea.
Softly kissing my son’s forehead, I rose.
Penelope wanted me down there tonight, and I wasn’t going to disappoint her by letting her know how badly it bothered me socializing with the ambitious players of the Chicago scene.
It wasn’t as though she was forcing me. She would feel bad that it made me so uncomfortable.
Back downstairs, I found the kitchen empty.
I trailed outside, skirting around the patio and into the garden.
From back here, I could watch the players, pretend to be part of the evening if my cousin caught me, but not have to actively participate just yet.
As I watched, it struck me how wrong I’d been earlier.
The twenty odd guests weren’t powerful. Not by a long shot!
I had been out of this life so long that their presence overwhelmed me. But after that encounter—
I shivered.
No, there were two predators here tonight. The rest of the guests were merely scavengers.
I shifted, already hating my shoes. I bought them for church but never wore them. Tonight, they chaffed. What I wouldn’t give for my boots.
A laugh bubbled up my throat. I remembered distinctly when Penelope showed up at my father’s house all those years ago. She was crazy, full of life, and wearing her damn cowgirl boots. Who knew she was brilliant? Boots went with everything. And they were damn comfortable.
“What’s so funny?” a jolly voice asked.
I jumped slightly but quickly recovered and gave the waiter a smile. “Nothing.”
“Oh, come on.” The waiter adjusted his tray of hors d'oeuvres. “You can tell me.”
No, I really couldn’t. He would think I was nuts standing back here, admiring the summer roses and thinking how my life had changed. It was a Freaky Friday scenario, exchanging places with my cousin.
“What are those?” I asked, pointing to his tray.
He shrugged. “Some crap on hard bread.”
I immediately took a dislike to him. He had one job, and it wasn’t to shit all over the food he was hired to serve.
“Well, I’m sure everyone likes them. Why don’t you go pass them out?” It wasn’t a suggestion.
He didn’t take the hint. In fact, my tightened voice seemed to be a challenge.
“Why don’t you tell me if they’re any good?” He stepped forward.
I refused to back up. “I’m good, thanks. But the other guests are waiting.”
“Oh, come on, let me serve you.” He wagged his brows.
My lips flattened. I couldn’t be any clearer, but apparently I needed to be to get him to leave. “Thank you, but I don’t want any. Go serve the others.”
“Nah, I think I’ll stay here. You found a good spot.” With that, he set the tray down on a stone bench.
A jolt made my heart thump double. I did not want to be stuck back here with this man.
But I also didn’t want to go out of the garden and join the others.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” the waiter asked.
Since he was blocking the path back to the house, I didn’t have much of a choice. Going the other way would lead to the pool and farther away from the throng.
“You need to get back to your work,” I pressed. “I don’t want you getting in trouble.”
“So sweet,” he coaxed and took a step forward. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
That was on purpose. It was my name, and he hadn’t earned it.
“No, seriously, you need to get back to work—”
He reached out and pushed my hair off my shoulder. “You’re playing with me, sweetheart. I like that.”
My pulse hammered in my throat. Blood began rushing in my ears. If I called out, it would make a scene. I didn’t want that. But I also wanted this man to go away.
“Please,” I insisted. The surroundings narrowed, my vision becoming hyper focused on the situation. On the threat. “Go back to serving the guests. I’m good here.”
His strong body spray was spicy and chemical. There was too much of it, flooding the air with a ripe stench. “I’m good too.”
His fingers brushed over my shoulder. I jerked away, but that only made him laugh. He grabbed me.
A scream rose to my mouth. It never released.
The man was suddenly gone.
I gulped a breath as a grunt pierced the air. As the tunnel vision cleared, I took in the sight before me. A black-haired fiend in a midnight suit had the waiter by the throat. Gold glint in the light before the fist pummeled down into the soft flesh of the waiter’s stomach a second time.
My jaw dropped.
The waiter groaned, thrashing and clawing at the arm that easily held him suspended in the air. His sound was effectively cut off, but the muted animal noises sounded too loud in the serene place.
I sagged against the bush, watching as the fist struck again—and again!
The obnoxious waiter was a limp sack. His movements did nothing to save him from being a punching bag. One more swift blow, and then he was tossed. His arms flailed as he fell to the ground. They didn’t reach up in time to save him before the crash.
“That’s enough!” I croaked, finding my voice as the mass of moving darkness took a step after him.
The monster paused.
Panic set in again with a fresh wave. I just made the monster aware of me.
Ivan turned. Time slowed to a handful of desperate heartbeats. Twin pools of inky blackness focused on me.
Sensing an opportunity to escape, the waiter bolted.
“Are you hurt?” There was a softness that conflicted with the terrible fury dancing through the dark gaze.
I shook my head and remembered to breathe. “I’m fine.”
His eyes narrowed. The fine lines around his eyes crinkled.
“Really, I am.” I pulled away from the bushes but cursed. The thorny branches had caught the fibers of my lace dress and held me in place.
I tried to dislodge myself, but the wriggling only made the branches tighten their hold. Barbs tore at my skin, leaving angry red marks along my arms.
“May I?”
I stifled a yelp. The monster was right in front of me. He’d moved so softly that I hadn’t realized he closed the distance.
“Um….” I hesitated.
“May I touch you?” His hand, decorated with the chunky gold rings, hovered right in front of me. “You’re stuck.”
“Sure,” I breathed. This wasn’t a mess I was going to get out of myself.
Those long, thick fingers worked deftly to pluck the dress away from the thorns. I was still breathing hard. Closing my eyes, I made a conscious effort to fight back the panic. Nothing bad happened. I was safe—my son was safe. It was just a terrible experience. Everything was fine.
“Ssshhh, little flower,” the creature from the underworld soothed. The rough voice was impossibly gentle. “You’re shivering. I’ll set you free, just another minute.”
It was how my cousins talked to the animals on the ranch. Soft, but firm. It set me at ease.
“There.” He pulled me forward, fingers lingering for another heartbeat before releasing me. “Are your arms alright?”
I couldn’t look away. Didn’t look down at them. “Fine, yes.” I swallowed past the heartbeat in my throat. “I’m all good.”
The corner of his mouth quirked. It was hard to place his age when he smiled like this. He was undoubtedly older than me, but the roguish look on his face made the man seem timeless.
“Thank you, Ivan,” I added. “That wasn’t…. That wasn’t fun.”
Those keen black eyes hardened a fraction. “You’d better run inside and put something on those.”
He gestured to my scrapes.
“Okay.” His words didn’t quite register. “I can do that.”
“Poppy! Oh, good grief, there you are! I’ve been looking ever—what! What happened?” Penelope burst into the rose garden. Her gaze swiveled between us. The queen of the famiglia sharpened her focus on the man in front of me.
I didn’t want her to think this was his fault. “I tripped into the bushes,” I said in a rush. “I didn’t want to call out. So embarrassing! Ivan was around and helped me.”
If my cousin bought the story, she didn’t say. It wasn’t like it was a lie. I just omitted the part where one of her catering staff was too handsy.
I extracted myself from the vicinity of the monster and hurried to my cousin. “Help me change quick. There’s time before dinner, right?”
Penelope shot one last glance at Ivan. “Yes, there’s time.”
As we trailed back into the house, I felt those eyes, the black gaze fixed on me with an intensity I was wholly unfamiliar with.