Chapter 16
CHANTEL
“They’re with me,” Lucia’s date, Giovanni, tells security.
“Names?” the man asks with a bored expression.
Lucia gives him her name, and I swallow my nerves, wondering if this is such a good idea. The last time I was here, I didn’t exactly get a friendly greeting. I also suspect this isn’t going to go over well with Cristian when he finds out.
“Chantel St. James.” I force a smile when the man glances at me.
His expression shifts from bored to alert as recognition sparks.
“Welcome, Miss St. James.” He stands a little straighter. “Would you like me to arrange a VIP lounge for you and your friends?”
Lucia and I exchange a confused glance while her date looks slightly put out. He clearly wanted to impress her with his connections, but now I’m getting preferential treatment. It doesn’t make any sense.
“Thanks, but I think we’re just going up to the terrace,” I tell him.
“Of course.” He nods, but something flickers in his expression. “Just give me one moment to get clearance upstairs. We have a limited capacity tonight.”
He steps out of earshot to make a quick phone call, and a minute later, we’re met by another member of security.
“Miss St. James, I’ll escort you and your friends to the terrace.”
“Okay…thanks.”
The situation only gets weirder as we walk through the club and the rest of the staff members glance our way. Before we can even enter the elevator, a server arrives to greet us.
“Hi, Miss St. James.” She offers me a bright smile. “I’m Kelly, and I’ll be your personal attendant this evening. Is there anything I can bring you to start?”
“Oh, that’s not necessary.” I shift. “We can just order from the bar on the terrace.”
“Take the service.” Lucia elbows me in the side. “This is great.”
Kelly smiles. “It’s no trouble at all. I’m happy to bring you anything you need.”
“In that case, we’ll have two of your Original Sin cocktails,” Lucia says.
“I’ll take a whiskey sour.” Giovanni sniffs. “My friend will be joining us too. His name is Tommy Romano.”
“Excellent.” Kelly nods. “I’ll escort your friend up when he arrives, and I’ll get those drinks to you shortly.”
The three of us follow security into the elevator, and when we reach the top floor, he directs us across the terrace.
“Right this way, Miss St. James. We’ve reserved a private table for you.”
I thank him, and Lucia raises a brow at me when we see it. It’s not just a private table. It’s an elevated alcove with lush greenery, a waterfall feature, and panoramic views of the city.
“Enjoy your evening, Miss St. James.” The guard dips his head and walks away.
“Okay, who did you blow to get this kind of treatment?” Lucia asks.
“I wish I knew.” I take a seat on the lounge, glancing around the space. “The last time we were here, I was convinced the server might poison me.”
“Well, whatever happened, I could get used to this.”
“You can’t even reserve this lounge,” Gio remarks. “I guess it’s good to have friends in high places.”
It seems like more of a sarcastic observation, but I let it go. The only thing I can conclude is that Cristian’s security team saw me here with him on the last visit and made a note of it. In that context, I imagine all the boss’s friends get this treatment.
Lucia and Gio make small talk while I settle in and appreciate the view. It’s a beautiful night, and now that I’m here, I’m glad I came.
Kelly brings us our cocktails, along with a chef’s menu. After looking it over, I realize something I rather wish I hadn’t.
They don’t have strawberry waffles, which means Cristian must have requested them for me. I doubt it’s a coincidence, but I have no idea how he knows they’re my favorite.
It’s another thought I’ll have to file away for later.
Eventually, Gio’s friend arrives and takes the seat next to mine.
“Hey, I’m Tommy.” He jerks his chin at me. “You were here last time, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, that was me.” I try not to grimace at the memory.
“Tommy kept asking who Lucia’s pretty friend was,” Gio teases.
“Can’t help it.” Tommy eases back against the lounge. “You were hard not to notice.”
“I’m sure the Fish-bowl really helped.” I force a smile.
It’s obvious that Gio invited Tommy for a reason, and that reason is he probably thinks this is a double date.
“I was just hoping you’d come over and hang out with us,” Tommy says. “But I guess fortune smiled on me tonight, because here you are.”
“I need to borrow Chantel for a sec.” Lucia stands and gestures me outside the lounge, pulling me far enough away that the men can’t hear us.
“Are you good with this?” she asks. “I swear I didn’t realize Tommy was into you. I got pretty drunk that night, so I don’t even remember him mentioning it.”
“It’s fine,” I assure her. “I know you would have told me if you knew.”
“But what do you think of him?” She steals a glance at the lounge. “He’s cute, right?”
“I’m sure he’s great,” I tell her. “But I’m not interested.”
“Dang.” Lucia deflates. “I was kind of hoping you were so we could both get married, have babies, and do everything together because they’re best friends.”
I laugh, and she smiles.
“A girl can dream.” She shrugs.
“Those are for Mr. Vitale,” a server calls out to another as she passes by.
My gaze follows the direction she points—and my stomach hollows out.
“Oh, Cristian’s here,” Lucia observes. “Looks like someone’s getting cozy over there. I never would have pegged him as a romantic.”
The scene does look nauseatingly romantic. Lit candles, bottles of wine, and a familiar woman.
I recognize her from Marco’s party because she was sizing me up like I was competition. Cristian told me she wasn’t his girlfriend, but they seem pretty well acquainted when she fondles his tie and whispers something in his ear.
“Do you know who that is?” I ask Lucia, trying to keep my voice even.
“It’s Jolie Charbonneau. She’s the daughter of some fancy French Mafia guy,” Lucia explains. “My father said they’re working on a deal with the Italians, so they’ve been making the rounds in all our social circles.”
“What kind of deal?” My throat tightens.
“If I had to guess, it looks like there’s a marriage contract underway, but I’m not sure she can wait to get to the altar.”
Jolie’s hand trails down Cristian’s chest, venturing toward his trousers.
I stand there frozen as it plays out, and for reasons I can’t rationalize, it feels like a punch to the gut.
It also makes me feel like a fool.
“We should get back.” I pivot on my heel. “Don’t want to leave your date waiting.”
“Okay.” Lucia catches up with me. “Thanks again for doing this. If Tommy gets to be too much, just text me.”
I nod, but it doesn’t really matter. The moment I collapse onto the lounge, I sink into a fog of dissociation.
I don’t like this hot, unpleasant feeling, and I can’t stop the slow-motion replay stuck inside my head.
The scene was so similar to the one that happened in my bedroom the night Cristian brought me home. Except in that version, he rejected my advances, triggering the all-too-familiar wound of never being enough.
It’s been an ever-present companion in my life.
I have a whole vault of criticisms that are always available to me, just in case I ever get any big ideas about what I can have. Between my father and my ex-fiancé, I have plenty of material to validate those claims.
If I were enough, maybe they would have actually cared. I wouldn’t have been treated like currency, or something to pass the time. And if I were enough, I wouldn’t be a running joke to Cristian. Because in his world, I’m good enough to be a fake wife, but never a real one.
In my past life, my name may have meant something, even if I despised the man it represented. But in this one, I’m nobody.
For six years, I’ve convinced myself I’m okay with that. Because a nobody stays safe. A nobody flies under the radar and doesn’t get entangled in situations like this.
A nobody never gets her heart broken.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Tommy’s voice pulls me from the fog, forcing me to snap out of it.
“Yeah, sorry, just got lost in my thoughts there for a minute.”
“Looks like you could use another drink,” he suggests.
“Probably.” I laugh.
Kelly brings us another round, and Tommy engages me in conversation while Lucia talks to Gio. She’s four drinks in when Lizzo comes on, and the moment she hears the opening to “Truth Hurts,” she launches out of her seat and fist pumps the air.
“It’s our anthem, babyyyy!” She grabs me by the wrist and drags me out onto the terrace while Gio and Tommy trail behind us.
Her excitement is contagious, and honestly, this song never fails to put me in a better mood.
I focus on the music and try to forget about Cristian as Lucia and I start to dance. After a solid minute of listening to her sing and busting out our best hair wash move, I’m in the moment right along with her.
We make it to the end of the song, and “I’m Good” by David Guetta and Bebe Rexha comes on. Gio steals Lucia for a dance, and Tommy takes her place with me.
“Check this out.” Tommy undulates his hips before dropping to the ground for a body roll.
When he pops back up, he drags a hand down his chest and winks at me, and I can’t help but laugh.
“You totally stole that from Magic Mike, didn’t you?”
“Hell yeah, I did.” He smirks. “Show me what you got.”
Matching his energy, I do a few belly rolls that transition into hip shimmies.
“Oh!” Lucia joins me as I pick up the tempo. “You taught me how to do this.”
Gio and Tommy observe, nudging each other like this is the greatest thing they’ve ever seen.
“I’ll take that as a sign of approval,” Lucia teases them.
In response, Tommy gets down on bended knee, mimicking a proposal. It’s funny—until it’s not.
“Holy shit.” Lucia freezes.
“What?”
“Cristian just clocked us, and he looks like he’s about to raze the earth.”
I pivot to face him, and my spine stiffens as our gazes clash.
Raze the earth might be an understatement.
Cristian has always been the king of control, but right now, there’s an undeniable fracture in his composure. His body is rigid, save for the barely leashed violence simmering beneath the surface.