Chapter 8 Tommy
Tommy
Giovanna Marino is holding my hand.
She is sitting across from me, looking at me, talking to me.
And she’s holding my fucking hand.
Holy.
Fuck.
This is a standout moment. A mind-blowing, time-bending, life-altering moment.
My pulse roars in my ears, and the room shrinks to nothing but the pressure of her skin on mine.
It’s also a dangerous moment, because I know—I know—what it means for me if I let myself touch her, really touch her.
I shift my gaze up to meet hers, half nervous that she can see the way my brain is detonating, but if she can, she doesn’t show it.
Little sparks shimmer and shine in her hazel irises as she gets excited about something I just said.
What did I say? That I think I’m going to be ambushed with all the reasons I shouldn’t choose Columbia for law school when I meet with the dean.
Which are all the same reasons that a woman like Giovanna shouldn’t be with someone like me.
“Tommy, pay attention.”
Her voice is soft, calling me back to the present.
She always knows how to handle me and the way I go off in my head.
And now she’s doing it while holding my hand.
What does that mean for her and Tony? I don’t think she understands how her life will change if she lets me touch her.
How little I will care that she has a boyfriend or whatever the fuck Tony the Hack is to her at this point.
“Tommy…”
I stroke her palm with my fingertips just once to let her know I’m with her.
I’m amazed that just having physical contact with her grounds me, quiets the noise in my head.
Even the noise around whether or not we will survive this transition into something more—or if I will.
“Tommy, tell me what you’re worried about.
”
I blink, looking up at her. Was she reading my mind?
No, she’s focused on my meeting with the dean.
“I think he’s going to tell me that I won’t be accepted into the law program.
”
She frowns. “Unlikely. You finished undergrad at NYU in two years, and it only took that long because you were working with your brothers so much. You’re a certified genius, Tommy.
Columbia should be begging for you to choose them.
”
“Yeah, but I’m…tattoos and hoodies and combat boots, not expensive suits and loafers.
Even if I were to put on the costume, I’ll always be a Demonio.
”
She gives me that soft smile that instantly lowers my blood pressure by 20 points.
“Law school interviews are part of the admission process. But the fact that it’s at night—that’s a red flag.
”
Still holding my hand, she drags her fingernails lightly up and down my forearm thoughtfully.
Just when I’m about to explode over the table, grab her, kiss her, she stops.
“Okay. Listen to me, because this is the world I grew up in. If this guy is familiar with your family and isn’t impressed by it, he’s a man of position but no power.
That means he’s scared. He knows you’ve earned entrance to the law school, and he’s probably worried about your response to a denial letter, so he wants to try to talk you out of wanting to go.
”
She’s thoughtful for a moment, looking at me.
Fuck, her lips are—
“It’s possible that he is also self-righteous about his ethics.
If he is, then his attitude will be aggressive, especially if he feels intimidated by you.
”
Pay attention, Tommy. Stop staring at her lips.
Listen to what she’s saying.
She squeezes my hand like she knows my mind keeps wandering.
“With assholes like him, the biggest concern is appearances.”
“Okay, so what do I say when he tells me I’m not a candidate because I’m a Demonio?
”
“Figure out what he wants. Then convince him that giving you want you want also gets him what he wants. Information is power, Tommy.”
“And if what he wants is me away from Columbia?”
She tilts her head thoughtfully.
“It could be him who wants you out, or he could be doing someone else’s dirty work.
If it’s him, he’ll be passive-aggressive from the start.
If someone else is behind it, he’ll likely be nervous, maybe even conciliatory, and have a hard time saying what he’s been told to say.
”
“How do you know this?” I lightly trace the outline of an orchid on the back of her hand with my fingertip.
She shrugs, looking out the window of the coffee shop, a faraway look in her eye.
“You know my father. You know how I was raised. It wasn’t hard to figure out how to manage the people who were trying to manipulate me.
I learned from the best.”
She turns back to me with a small smile.
“I’ve never seen you nervous before.”
“I want to get into law school, and he can take that away if he wants.”
She frowns.
“Can he? You’re Tommy fucking Demonio. Have you ever let another man take something from you that you wanted?
”
I pause, locking eyes with her. “Just once.”
She pales but holds my gaze, biting the inside of her lip.
Something that looks like regret passes over her face, but I could give a fuck if Tony was her first. I’m going to be her last.
I continue.
“Whatever this guy’s motivation is, I don’t want to strong-arm him into doing what I want even if it would work.
I don’t want it that way.”
My gaze drops to her mouth.
Fuck, I want to kiss her so badly.
“Okay. If you want to do this differently, I can help. Rule number one: maintain eye contact.” She taps my cheek and blushes as my gaze flits between her mouth and eyes.
“Looking away can send messages you don’t want to send.
”
“Like what?” The electricity between us is so palpable it feels like I could reach out and touch it.
“Like maybe you’re intimidated, nervous, angry.
Or that you’re not listening.”
“I’m listening,” I say softly, and stroke her forearm with one finger, vowing never to take my eyes off her again.
“Information is not just power,” she says, clearing her throat.
“It’s also currency. But it’s currency that changes in value.
Shared with the right person at the right time, it can be invaluable.
Share it too early, too late, or with the wrong person, and it can cost you.
”
“What information will be useful in this case? I don’t know anything about this guy.
”
She taps her nails on the table. “Find out. Background checks. Personal history. Stuff he doesn’t want you to know.
Make use of the people your dad hires to dig into his enemies.
If he’s this much of a prick to you, you know he has them.
”
“Again, it doesn’t feel appropriate to bring criminal tactics into the straight world.
”
She lets out a humorless laugh. “The so-called straight world is an illusion. Where there’s money and power, there’s no such thing as playing it straight.
And when it comes to getting what you want, sometimes you have to take it before someone else does.
”
“Really.” I can’t stop my gaze from dropping to her mouth again.
“Just want to make sure I’m hearing this right: your advice, counselor, is to take what I want.
”
She blushes, but she holds my gaze. “If you really want something, sometimes you have to just take it, Tommy.”
Her voice is low, husky, and it’s all I can do to stop myself from lunging across the table and doing exactly that.
I want to taste her so badly, feel her, hear her moan my name—
“Just make sure he doesn’t see you coming.
”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that some of the most ruthless people have the most charm, look great in a suit, know how to make everyone they talk to feel like the only person in the world.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” I say flatly.
She laughs. “Yes, you do, Tommy. You can be one of the most disarming people I know. The way you turn your voice into honey and make me do things I don’t want to do.
The way you look at me sometimes like you only see me and no one else.
”
I swallow hard. I didn’t realize I was that transparent.
“That’s different.”
“It’s not, though. You can turn that on with anyone.
You’re always you, Tommy, but charming camouflage will help you get everything you want and make everyone fall in love with you at the same time.
”
I stare at her for a long minute, my jaw ticking.
Is she implying that she’s in love with me?
“Are you in camouflage, Giovanna?”
She gives a dry laugh.
“Not with you.”
Not with me? With who then?
Her parents? Tony?
She clears her throat.
“It’s too bad it’s not a dinner. A meeting can be five minutes or it can be an hour, and it’s in his office, so he has the power.
A dinner lasts longer, and you can pick the place and get there first, make it your territory.
”
I nod slowly, mentally taking notes.
“What are you going to wear?” she asks.
I look down at what I’m wearing and then back up at her, raising an eyebrow.
A look of horror crosses her face. “No. If you’re at a party with a bunch of Demonio goons, you can wear this and hold all the power.
But in a meeting, a man wearing a $5000 Zegna Couture suit will not respect jeans and a hoodie.
”
Panic grips me. “I don’t have anything like that.
The meeting is tonight.”
“Don’t freak out.
I’m taking you shopping.”
“We don’t have time—”
“Relax. I’ve got you. ”