CHAPTER FIFTEEN
T he press would have to wait. We went inside, and I was in awe. There was a crowd ahead, dancing before a full orchestra. On stage, a woman crooned, waving her long-gloved arms around as a troop of dancers performed next to her. The wall was painted and lit with a glittery tent mural, and had velvet curtains draped along the sides. There were women dressed in old cigarette girl outfits—wearing short white skirts above the knee and pillbox hats—serving drinks to the guests in the booths and around the tables. The invitees weren’t only family, but a diverse crowd of Rocco’s friends, whom he took me around to greet on the way to the booth on the right side of the stage. An older woman with well-coiffured, ashen blonde hair and smooth, tanned skin stood to greet us.
“Finally! I’m so excited to meet you, Adelina, I’m Rocco’s mom, but you can call me Olivia.” She squeezed my waist. “I feel like I already know you from my father’s conversations about you.” I could see the familiar high cheekbones and blue eyes similar to other Marini family members.
My focus went to Mama, who was still seated at the table. Her surprised expression said it all. My friendship with Mr. Marini had been one of the things I’d kept private. Shit.
“Thank you. It’s so nice to meet you,” I said, adding delight to my tone. From her genuine warmth, I could see she was like her father. That was almost a relief.
“This night is also to celebrate your graduation. Congratulations. What a wonderful accomplishment. Welcome to our family. We’re happy to have you join us,” Olivia said, beaming. Her smile is so much like her son’s .
“Thank you, Olivia. That’s very kind of you to say, especially given our circumstances.”
At that comment, she didn’t even flinch. Surely she knew this marriage was arranged and that I was to become family in name only.
“Family is family, lovely Adelina. Don’t forget that,” she answered amiably.
How I hoped that would be true. I was still a little stuck on whether Rocco would be continuing his relationship with Marjorie Storm.
I glanced behind her to a man who had to be Rocco’s father. Unlike Rocco, his hair was slicked back, but he had the same high cheekbones and square jaw. He stiffly offered his hand and mumbled what I think was, “Nico Marini. Nice to meet you.”
Mama finally stood, and even in the low lights, her expression was sour as she looked at us. Glenn left her side and came over to us. His hands lifted to hug me, and I hesitated. Glenn never hugged me. I usually received a polite wave and a question about college courses. Still, I recovered and opened my arms. He let out a light chuckle and patted me twice on my back then let go. “Congratulations, Adelina on graduating and on your pending nuptials.”
“Thank you, Glenn,” I said politely and smiled.
His eyes shifted to Rocco and he looked almost cartoonish with the wide eyes and big grin he directed at him. His hands closed on Rocco’s and held. “Wow, Rocco Marini. I saw your documentary series on international eateries. I’m a foodie myself.”
Rocco smiled at him. “Great to hear. What’s your specialty?”
“My mother’s Welsh. I have her laverbread recipe,” Glenn trilled.
“I’d love to hear more about it,” Rocco said, shaking his hand.
Mama gave Rocco her hand in greeting. “This is quite the party,” she murmured.
Rocco glanced behind her at his mother. I could see them share a telepathic message that included a smirk from Olivia at the end of their transmission. “Thanks. Glad you could make it.”
“The traffic was terrible,” Mama said and grimaced. “We never come into the city at night and on such short notice.”
I tensed. Short? It had been over a week since invitations had been sent out.
“You didn’t get the flight and car I sent?” he asked.
She jutted her chin. “My stomach was too upset to fly. Glenn had to drive.”
Glenn said nothing, and Rocco moved me to meet his brother, Salvatore and sister Siena. They were teens surrounded by other kids their age.
“Your dress is gorgeous,” Siena said. “Welcome to the crazy house.”
I laughed. “Thank you.”
Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood” came on, and his entire family let out a cheer.
“That’s our song,” Olivia said as she and Nico left their seats. We watched them skip, swing, hop, and clap like they were ballroom dancers. They were a sensation. And I was floored. Now I get why we took that lesson.
“Ready?” Rocco asked.
I shook my head. “Not with the professionals out there. Let’s wait for a crowd.”
Rocco went over to the tables and demanded his relatives and friends dance. They were all up and moving for him.
I covered my mouth, chuckling. He’s insane.
He returned to me with a smug expression. “Let’s dance.”
I wasn’t sure I’d remember the steps, but I counted in my head and let Rocco spin me around the floor. I even added a few turns myself.
Rocco took me in his arms. “Look at the student becoming the teacher.” He kissed my cheek. The song ended, but then his father had me dancing with him as Rocco danced with his mother. His dad moved me into more complicated moves, and by the time the song finished, I was out of breath.
His siblings danced around us, adding a few modern twists with their friends. But overall, the Marinis knew how to enjoy themselves, and a longing grew in me. Would my life have been different if Mama had left Judge Colby earlier? I’m her second child . I probably wouldn’t have been born. A dull ache burned in my chest, and a lump welled in my throat. Perhaps that would have been for the best.
I gestured a time out and went back to the booth, where Glenn and Mama were sitting.
“Finally,” Mama said. She already had a plate in front of her.
A waiter came over and took my meal preference. “Steak and potatoes, please…You look lovely, Mama.”
Mama had a complex chignon she wouldn’t have been able to do herself. Her dress was a navy satin crepe with a lace top. Even her fingers had more jewels on them than normal. “We need to talk.” She drained her glass of champagne.
I was perplexed. “Later, okay? Why don’t you dance?”
“And make a spectacle of myself? No thanks,” Mama huffed.
I glanced at Glenn in mid eyeroll as he took a long sip of dark liquid in his glass.
A woman came over to the table and spoke to Mama. “I know you said you didn’t want to dance, Mrs. Talbot, but my husband is also unable to dance tonight. Can we borrow Glenn? The band said they’d play ‘Sing, Sing, Sing’ next?”
“Yes,” Glenn said quickly and rose to his feet before Mama could answer. He sped off to the floor and spun her around with more gusto than I’d ever seen from him before.
I glanced at Mama who lifted her chin in the air and motioned for the waitress to refill her glass.
I frowned at her and gestured towards the floor. “Why not try to dance for Glenn? You might like it.” Maybe even try for me?
She shrugged. “Glenn knows I don’t want to.”
I bounced in my seat. “I love this song.”
Mama’s face narrowed.
I turned my head and saw Rocco. He was heading over. When he reached us, he took my hand. “There you are. I’ve missed you.”
A flutter went through my stomach, and a soft smile spread on my lips. I turned my head to avoid looking at Mama, and went back to the dance floor with him. Swinging my hands around like I’d learned in the lesson, I followed Rocco’s dance moves as we hopped, shook our hips, and clapped on the floor. Then we joined the crowd on the side and clapped as the group that stayed on the dance floor carried out the more elaborate dance moves. His brother Salvatore did a back flip, and then a group of teens did cartwheels. It was almost a shame when the song ended.
“It’s time for our dance,” Rocco said as the music slowed. Our eyes connected and my pulse started beating faster. He leaned close to my ear and said, “I can’t take my eyes off of you.” Then he placed a soft brush of his lips on my earlobe.
I shivered, and he squeezed my hand as he led me to the center of the hall.
An ensemble group took the stage and started singing, “Only You,” by The Platters.
Rocco took my hand and led us to the front. All eyes were on us as I placed my hands on his shoulders, and he gripped my waist, pulling me close. My eyes lifted, and our gazes locked. A tingling sensation filled my chest. Is this real? If it was a dream, I didn’t want to wake up. His stare bore into me and increased my pulse. Rocco’s hands closed on my waist, turning me back to him. His arms closed around me, and my hands went around his neck as my heart hammered against my rib cage. My eyes lifted to his, and he must’ve surely seen the mixture of excitement and fear in them. We weren’t alone. But his calm assuredness surrounded me, and his eyes darkened with desire and determination. He crushed his lips to mine. I parted mine for his tongue that slipped in and stroked me hot. He pulled me closer, my body pressing hard against his, and his mouth closed to suck on my tongue; the sensation was as sensual as his fingers on my clit. So good. Every draw on my tongue made me hotter, wetter. It took all my control not to move my hips and writhe against his erection I could feel pressing on my stomach. My body ached and I wanted more. But the loud cry from the crowd finally filled my senses.
The people around cheered from their seats, breaking the charm. We slowly broke apart, and I touched my flushed face before lowering my head onto Rocco’s shoulder. My eyes darted over his family and friends who were on their feet clapping. I wanted to bury myself. How could I’ve lost so much control in public? Whenever he touched me, I unraveled, and I had no idea how to stop it.
I glanced up at him, and there was a mixture of curiosity and pleasure in his eyes. Rocco wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed. “You constantly surprise me, Bella.” Rocco seemed surprised, too. He’d been just as caught up in our kiss. But he owned it, standing tall and proud as if we did it all the time. My tension eased, and some of my embarrassment lessened as he kept me close in his arms.
A tiered cake was rolled out from the nightclub’s kitchen, which read, “Congratulations, Adelina and Rocco.” It calmed everyone down, and we were able to move on from our PDA. We stopped for photos before returning to our table. I had only sat down when Mama tugged my arm. “Can you please come with me?”