Chapter 1 #2
Rose smirks at me. ‘Come on, let’s go to the VIP section.’ She grabs my hand and leads me around the dancefloor to where two broad security guards, dressed in all black, smile at her and lift the red velvet cord to allow us to pass into the exclusive area.
‘I thought you and Vittoria hated each other?’ I whisper as we take the only two empty spaces at the bar, either side of a barely dressed blonde who downs a shot then picks up a large glass of red wine and slides out from between us.
‘We do, but she’s not going to risk anything happening to me in one of her family’s clubs.’
‘She won’t even be here tonight, will she? I mean, it’s their engagement dinner so presumably they will be going … somewhere afterwards?’
Rose pats me on the shoulder. ‘I’m pretty sure I can guess what their plans are afterwards, but we’re safe here. Look, Sean’s right there.’
Everything about this club just feels off. It’s gritty but not in a fun way. The bouncers barely glanced at our ID, and I wonder if the dusting of white powder on the edge of the bar in front of me might be worth a small fortune.
‘I thought you said her family was crazy?’ I say, strongly suspecting that in this case, crazy actually means criminal.
‘Oh, they are. You know how totally fucked up my family is, but Vittoria’s?
They’re next level. Like “mess with us and you die” crazy.
Losing Chris…’ She trails off. Four years ago, there had been a string of unexpected deaths, and we tried not to remind each other about them.
My parents. Vittoria’s younger brother, Christopher Riali.
And Matt Muir – Rose’s boyfriend and Chris’s best friend.
I never really knew what had happened, too lost in my own grief to really care as much as I should have.
Something I regret now. But Rose refuses to talk about any of it.
Her way of dealing with emotion is to pretend it simply doesn’t exist.
‘But this is business. Family business. They won’t jeopardise that,’ she says, attracting the barman’s attention rather expertly for someone who has drunk as much as she has tonight.
Not that I’m judging or anything. I’ve had more than I usually do, but I’d like to think I’m pacing myself.
‘Rose,’ I say wearily when she orders a couple of shots and two bottles of Stox.
‘Oh, come on, Niamh. Take a walk on the wild side for once.’
We turn in our seats, leaning back against the bar and observing the various other occupants of the VIP section. Most of the men are in expensive suits, which reminds me of something she said.
‘Their marriage is … what … business? But—’
‘Oh, come on,’ she scoffs, making a face at me. ‘You don’t actually believe they’re in love, do you?’
‘I can’t say I’ve given it much thought.’ Liar. I’ve given it a lot of thought. ‘But why would they be together if they don’t love each other? It’s been years.’
The look of pity Rose gives me makes me wonder if I’ve hidden my crush as well as I thought. She can’t possibly know, though … can she? I swallow my shot and take a long draught of the Stox. This will definitely be the last alcohol I drink tonight.
‘Cillian is young to … to be in sole charge of all our business interests,’ she says, her gaze on a group of three guys in the far corner who are glancing over at us occasionally, too.
I groan inwardly. ‘And it’s not been easy for the Rialis since Chris’s death.
Vittoria can’t inherit his businesses. Mostly misogynistic crap, but that’s Vincenzo and his associates for you.
And Vittoria is furious. Marrying Cillian is the only way to have any say in the future of everything her family has worked for. ’
Rose grins as something brushes against my legs. I freeze, slowly looking down into a pair of sparkling black eyes, which disappear as soon as I see them. Bloody Stox. We should really go home soon.
Pouting, she smiles over at the men, blowing them a kiss from her raspberry-tinted lips, which look good against her auburn hair and green eyes.
‘But if they’re going to be married, shouldn’t you at least try to be … friends? I mean, you’ll see her at family events, right?’
‘No one needs a friend like her, Niamh. She’s a fucking m—’
She stops short, blinks at herself and takes a deep breath to get her anger under control. Not for the first time, I wonder how she’s going to manage as a lawyer with that temper. Her gaze shifts back to the men.
‘Time?’ she demands. I check my watch.
‘Twelve-fifteen.’
‘Okay,’ she says clapping her hands together, gleefully. ‘Three hours and forty-five minutes left to drink, dance and see what else the night brings.’ She winks at me.
‘Rose…’ I sigh.
‘Oh, don’t be such a prude. You know sex is fun, right? You’ll end up a dried-up old maid, living with a houseful of cats, or even worse, settling for dull, predictable sex with some nice but boring guy who doesn’t even know that a clit exists let alone where to find one.’
I stay silent, not wanting to have this conversation with her. It’s hard to argue, in one way – she might be right about the cats, and honestly, I would be okay with that. But I’ve also witnessed every one of Rose’s highs and lows over the past four years.
Since Matt died, she’s not had a serious relationship, but has more than made up for that with casual ones.
I’ve hugged her, held her hand, binged nineties and noughties romcoms and talked to her for hours and hours after she’s been dumped or ghosted or ignored.
Not to mention that twice I’ve had to buy pregnancy tests when her period was late and she practically stopped functioning until we had the negative result in front of us.
And it’s not like I don’t ever date … it’s just …
not a priority right now. Not until I’ve secured my first job and have a decent salary.
And yes, preferably find a guy who knows where a clitoris is.
Someone who is able to distract me from Cillian.
Not to mention someone who sticks around for a second date.
Once I’m settled, there’ll be time to have fun.
With the added advantage that I won’t have to deal with immaturity.
Supposedly. Maybe that’s part of the appeal of my recurrent fantasies about Cillian.
He’s definitely mature, and far from boring, in a dark and dangerous kind of way.
I’d happily bet that he could find the clitoris on a first attempt.
‘Come on!’ Rose yells, hooking her elbow through mine and steering me towards the dancefloor. ‘Let’s see if we can find at least two guys who look like they’re capable of giving decent orgasms.’
I sigh and allow her to drag me out onto the dancefloor.