CHAPTER 12
Luna
I grin as I take the three steps to mount the stage at the front of the ballroom. The band is setting up behind me, so I climb over some chords and around a couple speakers on the floor. Once I reach the center, I look out.
The ballroom is plain but gorgeous, it’s the Park Hyatt after all. But you can barely see it, a mere blank canvas behind what I’ve created with the event company.
There are real vines and tropical plants, actual parrots and other Caribbean birds.
I can’t believe the event planner actually pulled off a small pond with a waterfall in the corner.
Bright colors decorate every table, since I didn’t go with one color theme.
Of course there are the leis and palm trees and a huge pig turning on a spit, complete with an apple in its mouth.
It’s the tackiest thing I’ve ever seen.
My grin turns into a wide smile.
Then it dies.
Not only because reality catches up to me…this is my engagement party. I’ve been so focused on making the night terrible that I’ve blocked out the actual cause for the dinner…but because I’ve also blocked out this nagging feeling, the one that comes up at birthdays and holidays.
Mama.
If she was here, I probably couldn’t have done this, gone through with this…abomination. Or maybe she’d be totally on board with my zany plan. Maybe she would love the massive paper mache jaguar by the entrance. I don’t know, since she died when I was four.
Papa never spoke about her personality. He’s never shared memories after the car accident, that I can remember. There is one photo of her in the living room, and a few framed pictures in my room, but that’s all that remains.
My phone buzzes, pulling me out of my gloom. Ellie is almost here. I reply, telling her to meet me in the bathroom off of the lobby. I can’t wait to see the look on her face.
I make my way down from the stage, heading to the restroom to change. But my thoughts remain behind. Maybe if Mama had had a sister I wouldn’t feel so different, so alone. Ellie, she has her mama plus aunts and female cousins that love her. The Delgados actually function somewhat as a family.
Papa’s organization is more the family in the stereotypical mafia way.
Worse, my family just happens to breed men.
Nonno had brothers, he had my papa and my zio, they all had sons.
Insecure, brutal neanderthals who, so far, have married weak, catty women.
Zeno is the exception but he’s not interested in settling down with just one woman anytime soon, that’s for sure.
With Nonna and mama gone, I can’t think of one maternal connection in my life.
Maybe that’s why Ellie is so dear to me. When we met at fifteen, my dress had gotten hitched up on one side, about to show my underwear. Despite having passed many of my cousins, she was the only girl to tell me about it. We’re the same age, but she’s been taking care of me from the beginning.
I slip into my tight, short, red leather dress with some effort.
It better stay cool in that faux jungle out there or I’m going to go from hot to melting, and not in a good way.
The outfit, complete with matching heels and bold gold jewelry, covers my chest with a halter neck and cinches in the waist to accentuate the small curves I have.
I usually push the edge of what could be considered elegant but this…
this is as close to inappropriately obscene as I could let myself get.
“Lu—” Ellie stops short in the doorway. She looks elegant as ever, if not a bit matronly.
She’s always dressed more conservative than I think she should, with her banging hourglass figure below a perfect face, dark brown hair and sparkling hazel eyes.
Her brows above said eyes raise and her jaw falls open.
She’s the surprised emoji in real life. I laugh and do a twirl as her eyes go up and down and back, like she’s not sure what to focus on first. “Is…is that your real hair?”
“Hell no, I put in fancy highlighted extensions plus more underneath for length and volume to take my thick hair from glam to…well, uh…” We both turn and look at my thick black hair, now highlighted dark brown in places, styled in massive beachy waves.
It’s huge, over powering me and even the bright red dress.
“Not glam,” Ellie finishes, snickering.
“Right.”
“Red? Didn’t want to go with white, really play up your prized virgin card?”
I smile, and whisper dramatically, “When you see the room, then you’ll understand.
” I give her a sheepish wink as I reach behind her and pull a huge red hibiscus flower out of a shallow vase where the florist left it.
It has a hair clip already attached to the stem.
I secure it behind my ear and then turn to my best friend. “Aloha, Ellie.”
“What?”
Instead of explaining, I just take her hand and pull her through the hall, down the side of the lobby and through the ballroom doors. There’s already tropical music playing and a wealth of floral scents and spices from the foods. It’s like we walked into a whole new world.
Ellie can barely whisper through her shock, “Luna!”
“Isn’t it disgusting?”
“How…is that a waterfall? And—ah!” We both cry out as a bird takes off from one of the palm trees flanking the entrance and flies off across the space.
She turns to me, mouth agape and eyes wide, and juts out her chin, demanding an explanation.
I just shrug. “Lu, I knew you could be diabolical but this…this is so absurd he might not even come into the room! I wish I could take some pictures for Mia.”
I huff, “I know. No phones allowed just so there are no photos, isn’t that ridiculous?”
“Yes, and does that mean you won’t have wedding photos?”
“First, I hid a phone in my bra, obviously. But also, he’s allowing for film photography that his team develops. No digital copies whatsoever. So extreme.”
“Beyond extreme. I mean all mafia men are secretive but zero photos of him anywhere? What’s he hiding?”
“Exactly. That’s one of many questions that I have, Eleanna dearest, questions I have and answers I will get if I have to actually marry him.”
“I was doubtful about your plan but this, you,” She grimaces around us at the tackfabulousness of the room and my whole persona. “This might do it.”
I laugh, “You haven’t even seen the best part yet.”
“Oh no…”
“Just wait. I have to go check in with the planner and the kitchen one more time.” She nods and I point to the side. “You’re at the second table, of course, but you still need to go find your table number over there on that wall. They’re on miniature surf boards.”
“They are not.”
“Oh yeah, baby. And there’s sand under your table so be sure and take your shoes off! Sink your toes in!” She grimaces and I laugh again. I see a few guests, elderly members of mia famiglia at the doors and I get moving. It’s almost showtime.
·····
Luna: I know you snuck in a phone. Tell your wife Bathroom again! ASAP!
Snake Mark White: On her way.
Ellie breezes in a few minutes later, worried. “Everything okay?”
“Uh, no, dove si trova? Where the hell is he?” I turn to face her from the bench in the corner of the restroom where I’ve spread out all my stuff.
“What is THAT?” She points under my arm.
I beam with glee and put my new whiny voice into action, “This is the love of my life, of course, whom I’ve told you about many times.
Remember, Ellie? I take him with me everywhere.
” I pull the red leather purse, that matches my dress exactly and is also adorned in gold hardware, away from my body so she can get a good look at him.
“I thought you were allergic.” She approaches carefully like he’s a feral beast.
“Relax, he’s just a long haired Chihuahua.”
“That’s a dog?”
I pull him out of the doggy purse. “Yes, I had Vix dig into the dog thing, the man I’m marrying loves huge dogs. Great Danes, Rottweilers, Mastiffs. This guy here was the runt of his already tiny litter.”
“Aw, he’s…”
I look down at his shaking body, scraggly white hair, one somewhat lazy eye and his outrageous underbite. “So ugly he’s kind of cute, right? His name is Marlon Brando.” I mimic the dog’s underbite and my best Godfather impression. “I’m gonna give him a wifey he’ll have to refuse.”
“Ho. ly. Crap. Luna. You are really going all the way with this plan.”
“I am! So where the hell is the groom-to-be? Even his dad is here, he and Papa just sitting there growing more and more pissed that someone dare keep them waiting. And I wanted to make a dramatic entrance, hence I snuck out here so I could walk back in with Marlon, and I’ve been in here for twenty minutes! ”
“Maybe he heard about your insane luau and already bailed.” She murmurs, grimacing. “I mean I have actual sand in my shoes.”
I huff a sad laugh, “If only. One of his lackeys said he was cleaning up a mess and then would be on his way.” We give each other a knowing look. A mess—as in he’s killing someone, or overseeing that the someone he just killed is properly disposed of.
Lovely.
“Miss Mancini?” My nervous little event coordinator pops her head in. “We really should start on the food or all the shrimp and sushi is going to have to be thrown out. I warned you about the ice storage when you chose the—”
“It’s fine, Polly. Go ahead.”
“So I can send the servers out? Are you…”
I nod and confirm, “On my way in.”
She leaves, shaking like a leaf. She wouldn’t say anything out loud but the money in the room, the name Mancini, the dark hair and tailored suits…she knows exactly who her crazy new client is.
“Lu, you don’t need to make an entrance. You’ve crafted the perfect Anti-Quinn event and persona, everyone is uncomfortable already, and I’m sure you have more up your sleeve for the night. Trust your plan and let’s do this. Hiding in the bathroom is just going to get you all tied up in knots.”
“You’re right,” I say, then tuck Marlon back in his purse.
“It’s weird, seeing you rattled at all.”
“I know,” I pull at the hem of my dress, another thing I never do.
“But it’s just becoming real. A quarter of the chairs out there are filled with them, the Irish.
Men, and a few women, not that many, which is weird, but anyway, they’re outsiders.
People we don’t know. And they don’t know us either. The looks they’re throwing our way…”
Ellie nods, “I saw. Doesn’t seem like anyone is more thrilled about this than you are.”
“Fuck! I don’t want to marry the Irish!” I whine, and not in a fake voice.
“Luna. You’re not going to marry him. You’re going to double down on this batshit idea and scare him off,” she turns to the door and grabs my elbow. “Now bring your strange rodent-cat-dog, flip your unbelievable lion’s mane over your shoulder and let’s go.”
“Yes, Mom,” I grumble, but we both smile. I’m thankful. I may not have a bunch of supportive women around me but I really just need a couple. Mia has texted me no less than twenty times per hour today.
I walk out, trying to channel my inner entitled princess. I head into the ballroom with a sad pout on my lips—because my beloved is running late—but I keep my head held high. I’m still Luna Mancini after all.
I hear Ellie snort behind me at my crazy hair and Marlon. His little furry head bobs in his purse as I walk. All eyes look at me and then away, then at the dog, then back again, to confirm I do, in fact, have a dog with me at this banquet.
The Italians, my dear relatives, just roll their eyes or sneer, aside from the youngest girls on the outskirts of the family who crane their heads for a better look. They vie for my attention and hope to gain influence by getting close to me. I ignore them.
The Irish are shocked and disgusted. A few faces even look scared. It’s perfect. I just hope I see the same reaction on my enigma of a fiancé’s face.
I take my time walking to the head table just so everyone can get their fill.
I sit back down across from Papa and Mr. Quinn and place Marlon prominently on the table in front of me.
The men ignore me completely, engrossed in their own hushed conversation.
Bosco eyes me with confusion for a beat before focusing right back on his life’s goal: working his way up my father’s large intestine.
Loser.
As instructed, the servers start bringing out platter upon platter of food.
I get the feeling the Irish are happy to have somewhere else to look rather than to gawk at me.
Ellie sits down to my right and I watch her hold in a smirk as Mark whispers in her ear.
He tugs her hair closer to his and I fight the urge to squint at him.
He’s sweet to her now but I remember how it was before. Something shifted and I don’t know w—
The doors open and everything changes instantly.
Conversations die. Heads bow, eyes look away.
He…
He is big, the tallest man in here, definitely, but it’s not as obnoxious as I expected it to be.
His combat clothes and leather jacket contrast the suits on the men around me.
The room is dim so I can’t yet see the details of his scars, but I can see the expressions around him.
Fear, awe, curiosity, but mostly, in the face of every Irish clan member, respect.
The man with him, his second, I’m guessing, pats some backs and shakes hands, even makes faces at the decor surrounding him, but not my betrothed.
He is a man on a mission, headed straight to the head table.
When he nears us, everyone at the head table stands nervously, so I follow suit.
My dog even squeaks and starts to shake again in his purse. And did the band stop playing?
He walks to his seat next to me and looks across the table.
“Father, Leonardo.” His voice is deep and rough.
And the two men, two old dons more powerful than God…
They look down as they mumble “Son.” and “Quinn.”
They. Look. Down?! The fuck?
My father basically just bowed to this man.
A shiver runs down the back of my neck, over my skin and ends up lower, warmer.
Because I realize now what I’m dealing with.
Power.
Power like I’ve never known before.
And that, well, damn. It’s kind of hot.