Chapter 36
I exhaled hard, glancing up from my phone at the passing buildings and streetlights in Santa Monica.
Starting with the helicopter trip from San Francisco to Santa Monica and now this drive from the helipad to the restaurant, so far I was alone on this so-called date Renzo organized.
Well, I had Ricco for company up in the front seat, but as my constant bodyguard, he hardly counted.
Honestly, my romantic expectations at this point weren’t high, but Renzo was already failing miserably.
If Bee’s predictions were true, it was only going to get worse.
It’d been three days since our agreement to set up one date.
With med school out for summer vacation, I stayed at Tore’s home to help with the kids.
Renzo did too, apparently needing the noise.
We crossed paths often enough, but compared to that first day, there were no lingering looks, no innuendos, no soft touches.
For all intents and purposes, we were little more than acquaintances.
Out loud, the words we exchanged were to the point or guarded.
The general attitude was cold and dismissive. It felt purposeful.
Messaging was different. We spent hours sending back-to-back messages.
Our conversations went on and on, with no end in sight.
We shared every detail about our day—more on my end, but that had always been the case.
Renzo wasn’t a huge talker or sharer. He sent me random emojis, always asking how I was doing.
A “good morning” text before I even got up.
A “sleep well” text no later than ten. Soft updates as he tracked down Julius Dimakos.
Random tidbits about how he was adapting outside of prison. It was open and inviting.
Then we’d cross at breakfast or in the hall, and it was like he was an entirely different person. At this point, I wasn’t sure if I was being misled or not. It was like he’d verbally regressed to how our exchanges had been years ago, before he went to prison.
My phone buzzed again.
Bee
There’s still time to turn back.
I need to do this. I need to see for myself where he places me in his life, if at all.
I reserved a room for us at the Oceana. My flight lands in five hours. If you’re not there when I arrive, I’ll assume I was wrong.
Coincidences do happen.
I think we both know this isn’t one.
“We’re here,” Ricco said.
On cue, my door opened. I slid my feet out as a hand extended in front of me. Its owner smoothly helped me out, letting my silk dress fall gently around me. Who would’ve thought Renzo Iannelli could be a gentleman?
His smile was all charming arrogance, matching how crisp and stylish he looked in a three-piece suit that fit him like a glove. Brawn and brain all in one package. He was too handsome for his own good and for my sanity.
“Oh, there you are.” I tugged my hand out of his.
“Miss me?”
“Can’t miss what you never had.”
He swept around a bouquet of red roses and germini from behind his back. “These are for you.”
“You pick them yourself?” I dug my nose in for their scent.
“I also have this.” From inside his suit jacket, he produced a rectangular box. It held a delicate gemmed palm tree on an island of sand made of diamonds, emeralds, and yellow garnets. I didn’t get to protest as he fitted it around my neck. “This way you can travel to the beach wherever you are.”
My cheeks heated, but I forced myself to keep my face straight. “You’re asking me for forgiveness already?”
“Stubborn as always.” He sighed. “I had last-minute business to attend to. I’m sorry I didn’t accompany you on the way here. But you look beautiful.”
I tossed my curled hair for effect.
“Flattery always works.”
“Well, it’s true.”
I fidgeted with my new necklace. It really was a stunning piece of jewelry, and he’d obviously put effort into it, even if his intention was just to convince me into a fake marriage.
Maybe I was overthinking this. Maybe Julius Dimakos’ reservation tonight at this same restaurant was all just a coincidence.
My hope of that lasted all through the first two dinner courses.
I had his full attention. Conversation was stilted at first, but once a few details we’d previously disclosed in our letters were mentioned, it picked up and never ceased.
We spoke like old friends, teasing with some seriousness in between.
This was what we’d been missing the last three days, and I was here for it.
Every. Single. Second. His laughter swept me up and held me tight.
His eyes pulled me in so hard, I wished we had more than one date. It felt real.
He asked a waiter to take a picture of us, going so far as joining our hands and kissing my fingers.
When he looked back up, the way our eyes met had my heart racing.
His lips were right there, and all I had to do was lean forward a little to capture them.
I really was a fool for him, completely smitten.
For his mind when he’d been behind bars.
For his looks, despite his arrogance and shrewd attitude, now that I’d seen him again.
But he didn’t meet me halfway for a kiss. In fact, he turned his head away, more and more, until I could see the hair on the back of his neck. I followed his gaze. My stomach dropped.
Julius Dimakos wasn’t hard to pick out as he made his way across the restaurant to a table of five—four men and one woman with black hair, wearing a flashy red dress.
Julius looked exactly like the photograph Bee sent me earlier in the day—darkly tanned skin, short wavy hair swept back at the front, a crooked nose bridge, deep-set eyes with a prominent brow, and a mole below his left eye.
Renzo tried to pretend his attention remained focused on us, but the conversation kept dropping after Julius’ arrival. His eyes couldn’t help but flick toward the Dimakos table over and over.
Just as Bee and I suspected, Renzo used our date to hook Dimakos in. None of this was to work on us as a potential couple. It wasn’t about giving us a chance or trying to work things out. It was as fake as the marriage he wanted, and I’d fallen for the illusion. Again.
We finished dessert just as the Dimakos table received their appetizer, raising their glasses and toasting, “Yamas!”
“You need to powder your nose,” Renzo told me.
“Funny.” I took a sip of my red wine. The least he could do on a shitty date was provide a good show. “I didn’t think you were that aware of women’s facial products.”
“I wasn’t asking. Go.”
“I think the view will be quite nice from here. Thank you very much.”
For the first time since Julius arrived, I finally had Renzo’s complete attention.
“What?” I licked the last bit of chocolate mousse off my spoon. “Afraid I’ll upset your plans on our date.”
“So stubborn you don’t know what’s good for you.”
“So overbearing you don’t recognize a good thing when it’s right in front of you.”
“I’d rather not waste time on frivolities.”
That hit hard, right in the chest…probably exactly the way he wanted it to. His nonchalance was unchanged. Not even a twitch of regret in his features. My face went lax with hurt, and my eyes started to prickle.
I aimlessly scanned the tables for something else to focus on, only to see a familiar face at one nearby.
Then someone else at another table, and then another.
Natale, Ettore, Massimo, Alfie, Jac, and many more.
They were all capos and enforcers belonging to the Iannellis.
Actually, now that I was really looking, all the tables with couples had cleared out.
The only women left were the waitresses and me.
Even the woman from Dimakos’ table was nowhere to be seen.
I nodded. “You’re right. What’s the point of enjoying the time we have when you obviously don’t want or need my company?”
I tossed my napkin down and slid my phone into my clutch.
“Let us all be grim and callous like you. You get your way. I’ll get out of yours. Thanks for the food. And just so we’re clear, there won’t be a wedding.”
As I stood up, a goon at the nearest table got up too.
“He’ll escort you to the bathroom,” Renzo said dismissively.
I balled my fists in my dress and controlled my breathing. If I stayed any longer, I’d end up smacking him.
“No need. I’m leaving.”
“That’ll look suspicious.”
“Because a man following me to the bathroom isn’t? Have him sit, or I’ll make a scene.”
His tight grip on the table scrunched the tablecloth. Good, he deserved the frustration.
“Stay in the restroom until I come for you.”
I leaned over the table, not too low that the loose neckline of my dress flashed the surrounding tables, but low enough that he knew I meant business.
“I won’t be your good little pooch, Renzo.” I scratched my nails down his neck. “Remember, I have claws, and they can hurt.”
His fingers wrapped around mine and squeezed. “Yes, it’s very clear you can’t learn new tricks.”
The comment took me aback, especially the way he said it, so aloof and cold.
I pulled back, straightening my spine, as my entire face prickled with discomfort.
He didn’t even glance at me. Not a single acknowledgment that he knew how hurtful his words were.
He didn’t care. He didn’t care about me at all.
That was when it finally sank in. It had really all been in my head.
The playful undertones in his letters. The caring words.
The consideration. Nothing but the imagination of a lonely person wishing to be loved and cherished.
How pointless. How stupid. What kind of foolish person was I to expect to be loved by the same man who’d murdered my brother?
I spun around, clutch in hand, and blinked away the swell of emotions from my eyes. He didn’t deserve my tears. He didn’t deserve anything from me anymore. I tried. I really wanted to be with him, but I couldn’t let him just take from me either. One date was more than enough.
My first tear splashed onto my linked hands against my stomach.
The second landed on my toes as I walked, one step in front of the other, toward those infamous bathrooms on the other side of the room.
The conversations at different tables blurred and twined together.
The smells of different sauces, braised meat, and cooked fish wafted together into an overwhelming, nauseous blend that just made it all worse.
I didn’t rush. I wouldn’t show him how much it hurt, not that it would matter to him. He probably hadn’t looked away from the Greeks since I left. Screw this, and screw him. I’d go to the bathroom to douse some water on my face, and then I'd leave. Like hell was I going to wait for him.
As I was about to pull the bathroom door open, it was shoved into me. A woman in red walked out. She didn’t give an apology or even glance back. I rubbed my ribs where the door handle had hit.
From her dress, she was part of the Dimakos table, but even from the short glimpse I got of her, I could have sworn her face was rounder, with a less pointy chin than the woman I’d spotted at their table.
Strands of auburn shone off her hair from the fluorescent sconces, when I’d previously believed it was pure black.
I shook the thoughts away. None of it mattered. I was never going to see her again.
I lifted my hand to grab the door handle, then stopped short of touching it. Why was I following his advice? I had no need for the bathroom. I wasn’t staying for whatever show Renzo planned to put on either. It didn’t concern me.
Without second-guessing, I headed for the kitchens, stormed past cooks and servers, ignoring a few complaints at my presence, and barged out the back door into a dimly lit alleyway. The warm summer air swarmed me. The sudden switch to street noise compared to the clamor in the kitchens was calming.
A plume of smoke drifted from an ashtray on a windowsill, with no one around. A lone piece of paper rustled and tumbled across the alley. A far-off streetlight, combined with the mounted wall light over the door, left creeping shadows in corners. I clutched my arms.
How long would it take until he realized I was gone? Would he even remember I’d been there?
To the right was a dead end. A pathway a little off-center led to a small parking lot, and to the left, I could get back to the main street. It was the easiest way out of here.
My heels clicked on the pavement, and my dress swished at my ankles. The trails of tears on my cheeks dried up.
Back on the main street, it was easy enough to hail a cab. When the cab door snapped shut behind me and all the traffic sounds faded, I sagged against the seat and pulled out my phone. No more tears fell. He wasn’t worth them.
I’ll meet you at the hotel.
I’m sorry, babe.
I didn’t answer Bee. Instead, I silenced my phone and laid my head back, watching the moon from the window.