Chapter Ten #2
“Fascinating,” Sully drawled, catching my eye with a look that said he knew exactly what I was doing and was enjoying the show. He also squeezed my knee gently under the table.
I winked at him before turning my attention to the bartender I’d convinced to join us on his break.
He was teaching Tonio how to make some complicated cocktail.
My father -- and God, that word still felt strange in my head -- was watching with surprising interest, his sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms, one with a tattoo winding from his wrist up into his shirt.
“Hey, Jason. See if you can find some Crown Royal. Bring shot glasses.”
“Sure.” He hurried off to retrieve the requested whisky.
I was being careful, but I wasn’t one to waste a good party and was a firm believer that any party was a good party.
If you were bad enough. So, while I was most definitely drinking, I was trying to stick mostly to my beer.
But Crown Royal, I could drink the shit out of.
I might get wasted, but I wouldn’t get hung over. Perfect!
Once Jason came back, I poured everyone a shot. “All right,” I announced. “Everyone takes a glass.”
“What’s the occasion?” Sully asked with a grin. Of course my man was willing to play along.
“I thought a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’ would be a fab way to spend the night with strangers.”
Jason nearly choked on his drink. “Seriously? That’s a college frat party game.”
“And it’s perfect for getting to know new people,” I insisted. “Or for discovering a person’s tells.” I shot a pointed glance at Tonio, who merely raised an eyebrow in challenge.
“I’m game,” Sully said with a grin. He sat back in his chair, his suit jacket long gone.
He’d rolled up his sleeves too. Muscular, vein-roped arms, and tattoos creeping up his arms in various designs…
Yummy! The man was sexy as fuck. And if I hadn’t offered the woman so much to drink -- she still was licking her lips and looked like she was just itching to grab Sully’s forearm and rub her face against it -- I’d claw her fucking eyes out.
But any flirting she was doing was one-sided, and she was wasted.
Even if Sully was interested, nothing was happening tonight.
And I could hardly fault the woman. What can I say? Play hard, pay hard.
“Excellent! I’ll start.” I raised my glass. “Never have I ever… been arrested.” And downed my shot.
Sully immediately took a drink, as did the line cook and, surprisingly, Elise. She hiccupped. Then giggled. Tonio, however, merely smiled.
“Really?” I couldn’t hide my surprise. “Not once?”
“Being arrested requires making mistakes,” he replied smoothly. “I prefer not to make those kinds of mistakes.”
“Your turn, boss.” The bartender poured another round to those of us who were empty. Everyone seemed much more comfortable now that we’d all had a few drinks. Even Tonio.
“Never have I ever…” Tonio paused, considering, “hustled someone at pool.”
I grinned, sucking back a second shot. He’d clearly been paying attention to the stories Sully had shared about how we met. The game continued, rounds of increasingly outrageous and ridiculous confessions punctuated by laughter and the clink of glasses.
With each new round of drinks, I made sure Tonio’s glass was fuller than mine, casually topping him up whenever I refreshed my own. I’d perfected the art of pretending to drink more than I actually was, taking small sips while making it look like generous swallows.
“Bring us those little things from before,” I told Jason, referring to the dish we’d been trying out. I slipped him an extra hundred-dollar bill, watching his eyes widen. “And whatever other special stuff you guys keep hidden from the regular customers.”
The staff had fully embraced our impromptu party, bringing out dishes and drinks that weren’t on the menu.
Everyone continued to drink, including Tonio, who was showing the first subtle signs of the alcohol’s effect. Not drunk by any means, but perhaps the edge of his control was beginning to soften.
Sully watched me with knowing eyes, amusement dancing in their blue depths. He leaned close, his breath warm against my ear. “Having fun?” he murmured.
“Juuuust getting started,” I whispered back, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw before turning back to the group.
As the evening progressed, I orchestrated increasingly elaborate toasts, each requiring everyone to drink. Some were silly. As I got buzzed myself, they became more heartfelt.
Tonio matched each toast without complaint, though his dark eyes grew increasingly observant, watching me with a calculation that made me wonder if he was onto my scheme. Still, he didn’t call me out, instead playing along with surprising good humor.
The bartender returned with a tray of colorful shots that smoked slightly at the tops.
“Dragon’s Breath,” he announced proudly. “My own creation. Not on any menu.”
“Christ, I’m too old to drink like this anymore,” Tonio muttered, but he took the drink.
“Perfect for another toast!” I declared, grabbing one and waiting for everyone else to do the same.
Sully took his with a resigned shake of his head and a soft chuckle.
I raised my Dragon’s Breath shot high, the vapor curling off the surface like ghostly fingers reaching for the ceiling.
“To family,” I announced, my voice carrying a hint of challenge beneath the false sweetness.
“The ones we’re born to and the ones we choose.
May we always know the difference.” I locked eyes with Tonio as I said it, daring him to read between the lines as we clinked glasses and brought the fiery liquid to our lips.
The drink burned a path down my throat, leaving a trail of cinnamon and something vaguely citrusy in its wake. I suppressed a cough, determined not to show weakness. Sully didn’t bother hiding his reaction, letting out a low whistle and shaking his head.
“Damn,” he muttered. “That’s got a kick.”
I turned back to Tonio, ready to propose another round of increasingly personal questions, but paused when I caught his expression.
He was studying me over the rim of his empty shot glass, a new awareness in his dark eyes.
He set the glass down with deliberate care, his movements still precise despite all the alcohol I’d been feeding him.
“You know,” he said conversationally, “this reminds me of the time I tried to outdrink Seth’s business rival when I was twenty-three.”
I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “What happened?”
“I employed your exact strategy.” Tonio leaned forward, elbows on the table, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “Except I was far less subtle about it.” A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I kept pushing drinks on him while secretly dumping mine in the potted plant behind us.”
The bartender snorted. “Did it work?”
“For about an hour.” Tonio’s smile widened into something approaching genuine amusement. “Until the whisky smell coming from the plant got to be too noticeable. The man was so offended he nearly pulled his gun right there at the table.”
Despite myself, a laugh bubbled up from my chest. “What did you do?”
“I did the only sensible thing.” Tonio’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “I flipped the table on him and dove through a window.”
Jason, who’d been passing by with another tray, nearly dropped it. “Through a window? Like, actually broke through it?”
“Second floor,” Tonio confirmed with a nod. “Broke my arm and got sixteen stitches in my shoulder. Seth was furious. Made me pay for the window and the table settings.”
I stared at him, trying to reconcile this story with the immaculate, controlled man sitting across from me. “You jumped out of a second-story window?”
“The alternative was getting shot,” he said with a shrug. “Seemed like the better option at the time.”
“Holy shit,” I breathed, genuinely impressed. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for the death by defenestration type.”
Tonio’s eyebrows shot up. “Defenestration?”
“The act of throwing someone or something out a window,” I explained, enjoying his surprised expression. “What? I watch Jeopardy.”
“Apparently so.” His eyes glinted with something that might have been approval. “I’ve always been more pragmatic than reckless, but there was a time when I took more risks than I should.”
The chef, who’d been quietly nursing his drink in the corner, chimed in. “My old man used to say you can tell a lot about a person by what kind of trouble they got into when they were young.”
“Wise man,” Tonio agreed. He leaned back in his chair, his posture more relaxed than I’d ever seen it. “I once stole a car when I was sixteen. Not for any practical reason, I already had a car. I just wanted to see if I could.”
“Did you get caught?” I asked, finding myself genuinely curious.
“No.” Pride flickered across his features. “But I did crash it into the Cumberland River an hour later.”
Jason, who’d returned to hover at the edge of our little circle, laughed out loud. “No way.”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Tonio shook his head, rueful. “Had to swim back to shore in January. Nearly got hypothermia.”
The staff was fully invested now, their faces alight with interest as my father shared stories from a past I’d never imagined.
He told us about the time he’d smuggled a friend’s pet snake into a formal dinner party, only for it to escape during the soup course.
About the summer he spent working on fishing boats to prove to Seth he could make his own way.
About the first time he saw my mother, paint splattered and furious because he’d blocked her view of the sunrise.
With each story, the stiff formality between us ebbed, replaced by something I wasn’t ready to name but couldn’t ignore.
I’d wanted to catch him off guard, to push his buttons and see what lay beneath the polished exterior.
Instead, he’d flipped the script, meeting me halfway with unexpected candor.
Sully’s hand found mine under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. He leaned close, his lips brushing my ear. “That’s my woman,” he murmured, pride evident in his voice. “The only woman in Nashville to get the best of Antonio Miles.”
I turned to look at him, a question in my eyes.
“Look at him,” Sully nodded toward Tonio, who was now demonstrating to the bartender the proper way to mix some obscure cocktail, his movements fluid and precise despite the alcohol. “He knew what you were doing from the start. He’s playing your game, but changing the rules.”
I studied my father with new eyes, noting the way he’d loosened up without losing control, the way he commanded the room while still making everyone feel included. It was masterful, and I couldn’t help but admire the skill behind it.
“Did I just get played at my own game?” I whispered back to Sully.
He pressed a kiss to my temple. “You both won. Different prizes, though.”
As if sensing our conversation, Tonio glanced over, catching my gaze for a moment. There was an acknowledgment of the small battle we’d waged across the dinner table, but also a small salute of respect when he raised his glass to me before taking a sip.
“You know, Tonio,” I said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “I came here tonight planning to drive you crazy.” The confession slipped out before I could stop it, fueled by the whisky and the strange new feeling taking root in my chest.
Tonio’s eyebrow arched. “I had some inkling.”
I looked at Tonio, really looked at him. I thought I saw pieces of myself reflected back.
“Now I think maybe I wouldn’t mind getting to know you,” I admitted, the words feeling like surrender and victory all at once. “But if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it.”
Laughter rippled around the table, but Tonio’s eyes remained fixed on mine, something soft in his gaze. Then he signaled to Jason with a slight lift of his hand.
“Last call back here, guys.” A genuine smile spread across his face. “I think it’s time we call it a night while we’re ahead.”
As Jason hurried off to comply, Tonio raised his water glass in my direction. “To defenestration,” he toasted, his voice warm with amusement. “And to second chances.”
Despite myself, I clinked my glass against his. “To second chances,” I agreed, and meant it.