Chapter 8 #2
Calling up my plastic smile, I grab Charlie’s hand and we make our way over to our dad. He stumbles as he weaves his way through the tables, looking for a waiter to refill his glass. Scanning the guests, I realize my mother is nowhere to be found. Of course she’s not.
Charlie manages to whisk our dad off and I don’t get a chance to make it back to the table before people stop me to talk.
Just like that, the meal is officially over, tables are cleared, and a DJ fires up a playlist from a platform in the far corner of the courtyard.
Music and alcohol flow freely as I’m bounced inside the jovial crowd, making small talk with people I don’t know.
Dante disappears, and it feels like an hour passes before I finally see him in the center of a group of men, talking and laughing.
I manage to catch his eye, but he ignores me as he sips from a crystal tumbler.
Nonplussed, I find my sisters, relieved when I hear that Charlie stuffed Dad into a car and got him a ride home.
Meanwhile Livvie’s eyes are sparkling and unfocused, her cheeks flushed.
I’m sure she’s snuck more than her fair share of wine, but as she twirls off to dance with some friends, I don’t chastise her.
Let her have her fun, obliviously ignorant to it all.
The party drags on. More wine. More frivolity. The crowd gets louder, more raucous.
Charlie’s husband whisks her off to dance, something Dante and I haven’t even done.
No first dance for us. We’ve skipped a lot of firsts today, the little details that couples engage in to make the day more special.
It’s not like we’re in this for love, but my husband is doing the bare minimum.
I wonder just how much he’s going to expect out of me tonight in bed?
Frustrated, I seek him out in the crowd.
He’s moved away from the fray to a quieter place on the outskirts where two elaborate brick fireplaces have been lit.
Daylight faded a while ago and the flickering flames create a softly glowing ambiance.
He’s speaking to a trio of men, more of the associates he’s spent the whole reception ignoring me in favor of.
Though I haven’t missed the occasional hungry glances he’s given me.
If only he wasn’t giving those same looks to Jessica…
Speaking of, the she-devil is right at his side, her elbow touching Dante’s. She’s closer to him than I’ve been all day. Dante looks up as if he knows I’m looking—and then he turns away, dismissing me. Again.
Charlie pulls me out on the dance floor with Livvie for one song, then two.
I can’t stop thinking about tonight, when Dante and I are alone.
Maybe there won’t be an official wedding night as such.
It was never part of the agreement. Maybe we’ll wait to cross that bridge until we’re ready to produce his heir—
“All right—enough, Frankie. She’s all over him.”
Charlie tugs me aside and turns me to face Dante. Across the courtyard, I see he’s migrated to the other firepit, and Jessica’s behind him. Her hands are on his shoulders, kneading, massaging. Eyes half closed, like she’s getting off on touching him. My skin crawls.
“March over there and get your man, sis.”
Fuck. It’s pissing me off that Jessica is pulling this on my wedding day. But I don’t really want to stake a claim on him…do I?
“I don’t know…” I say, hesitating.
“He’s your husband now, Frankie. And he’s been ignoring you all night. MAKE him pay attention to you. You got this.”
She’s right. My lips tingle with the phantom feel of his mouth pressed there, bruising and punishing, flaming something in me that I’d never felt before.
“Okay. I’m going.”
“Good.” Charlie grabs me in a fierce hug and squeezes me tight. “Look, we’ve got to go. I’m going to drop Livvie off at home. But call me tomorrow. I want all the details. Love you.”
“Wait, no, you’re leaving?”
“It’s after midnight, Frankie.”
I check the time on my phone—she’s right. By now there’s only a handful of guests left, and they look pretty firmly entrenched in their conversations.
Livvie rushes over to give me a goodbye hug, and then my sisters head off.
“Love you!” I call after them.
And they’re gone. My last tie to myself. Now I’m alone…with the Bellantis.
I snag another glass of wine from a passing waiter and down half of it as I sneak another glance at Dante.
He’s engrossed in conversation, and appears completely oblivious to Jessica draped all over him.
But I’m certainly not oblivious, and though I prefer to keep my life low key, I’m known for pulling out a trick or two when it’s called for.
I’m far from drunk, but the few glasses of wine I’ve had today have made me a little bit loose and a little bit daring. And I’m tired of being shunted out of the spotlight at my own fucking wedding. Enough is enough.
Sham wedding or not, I’m going to make this a night that Dante will never forget.
With a bit of maneuvering, I manage to unzip my dress, feeling only a fraction of regret for dropping the confectionary beauty of my dress on the ground.
Lifting my chin, I carefully step out of it, knowing my white lace basque, matching garter set, and satin stilettos show off all my assets to great advantage.
I stride over to my husband, the sight of me in my strappy corset ensemble stopping any conversations dead in their tracks.
Warm air caresses my bare flesh, a slight breeze threading through my hair as I approach Dante. His acquaintances notice me before he does, staring at me open-mouthed. Jessica jolts, her jaw dropping as I saunter past her and reach for Dante’s arm.
His face is impenetrable granite as he finally notices me. Undeterred, I grab him by the edge of his undone bow tie.
“I believe you have some business to conclude, Mr. Bellanti.”
The corners of his delectable lips jerk up in what might have been a smile had he let it bloom. Instead, he nods to his associates.
“Excuse me, gentlemen. Stay as long as you like, but I’m turning in for the night.”