Chapter 20
I had one dress that might fit the bill. ?
I hadn’t worn it since Pierce’s brother’s wedding several years ago.
It was a dark red halter dress, the back was completely exposed. A high slit ran up the side.
One of those dresses that really toed the line between sophisticated and slutty. When it came to going out to a club, that was probably the best place to be.
“We’re really doing this,” I muttered to myself.
I set Thomas up with a second slice of cake and put on the TV for him like he was a toddler I was babysitting.
In my bathroom, I went all out. I curled my hair and let it fall in long, soft waves over one shoulder. Fake eyelashes, sharp winged eyeliner. Eye shadow. Red lipstick.
I had a bra contraption that kept my boobs up and perky. It took me almost five minutes—and a lot of sweating—to figure it out, but I did. I put on the dress, then took a look at the finished product in the full-length mirror in my bedroom.
For a second, I almost didn’t recognize myself.
I looked like one of the girls Nicola would have picked.
My eyes drifted to his luggage, half-filled with the clothes I angrily tossed inside. If I was actually a mature person, I would finish packing up Nicola’s things and give them to Thomas. I’d send him off.
I would sit peacefully in my apartment and consider adopting a cat.
Instead...
I chose chaos.
I stepped out, and Thomas choked on what I was pretty sure was his third slice of cake.
My stilettos tapped against the hardwood floors. I held my hands out.
“So, um… is this alright? Do you think Veronica going to be jealous?”
He pressed a curled fist against his mouth as he cleared his throat and gave me a once-over.
“Yep.” He grinned. “Oh, she’s gonna lose her shit.”
“And this girl...” I adjusted one of my earrings. “You’re not interested in her?”
“No. It’s a frenemy situation. I’ve got it all under control.” He waved a hand before giving me another once-over.
“Oh man.” His grin faltered. “Nicola is gonna kill me.”
I couldn’t tell if he sounded excited or worried. My smile and resolve weakened.
“I feel like I’m too old for this stuff, Thomas. If Nicola doesn’t want me, I’m not gonna throw myself out there like a fucking disco ball and hope he gets jealous and changes his mind.”
“He’s been an asshole all week, Aubergine. I thought he was just stressed about the Ferraro stuff, but...”
His eyes drifted to the slit running up my thigh. He sighed. “I don't think he’s never been in a real relationship before. He should’ve been married by now, you know? With kids.”
His hands hung uselessly between his knees.
“I always thought he was just...” He searched for the word. “...cold. But now I think maybe he’s just scared.”
“Of what?”
He looked up at me. “What we’re all scared of, right? Fucking up.”
Nicola’s club was gorgeous.
Modern. Huge. A line of hopeful attendees wrapped what looked like several blocks down the street.
“Let’s reframe how we approach this, okay?”
Thomas said as we slowly made our way onto the red carpet at the front entrance.
“You don’t have to talk to Nicky. You don’t have to do the jealousy thing. We’ll get one drink—I’ll make sure Veronica sees us—and then I’ll take you home. You’ll be back in bed with a slice of cake in your hands in one hour, tops.”
I pursed my lips. “You promise?”
He nodded eagerly, then his grin widened. “I can’t fucking wait to see her face.”
The bouncer stepped aside and we were let in.
The music hit me first.
Heavy bass vibrated through the floor beneath my stilettos. Blue and violet lights swept over a sea of people dressed to the fucking nines.
I suddenly became very aware of the slit running up my thigh. For the first time all night, I wondered if I’d overdone it.
Not because I looked bad. But… because I fit in. That somehow felt worse.
Thomas grasped my hand. “Come on, Abby. I saw her car in valet, she’s around here somewhere. This is gonna be fucking golden.”
“So...” I glanced around. “You’re frenemies, as you say... but you think she’ll be jealous?”
“I’m proving a theory, actually.” He looked entirely too pleased with himself. “She hates me so much she’s actually in love with me.”
“That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever." I shook my head and adjusted the hem of my dress. “God, I feel like a forty-year-old cougar pretending she’s eighteen again. It’s like I’m having an early midlife crisis.”
And half the guys in here looked like they were barely twenty. Gross.
He pointed toward one of the booths. “Here, take a seat. I’m gonna scope out the area and see if I can spot Veronica. Long Island, right?”
“Yeah.”
Thomas vanished. I slid into the booth and carefully placed my clutch on the table.
The dark leather seat squeaked beneath me. I watched people move through the club.
Women laughed. There was a sea of people dancing, talking. A waiter walked past me carrying several shots that were on fire.
Before I could even look up again, a brunette man who looked like he was possibly pushing thirty slid into the seat across from me.
“Hey.” He smiled. “Was that your boyfriend back there?”
“Thomas Moretti?” I said-yelled over the music. “No."
"I’m Jason, by the way.” He held out his hand, and I shook it lightly.
“Aubergine,” I said.
“Hey, that’s a cool name. Isn’t that a vegetable?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but a waiter appeared beside us carrying two drinks.
One was a massive fruity cocktail with an umbrella sticking out of it.
“Oh, um...” I pointed at it. “I think it was supposed to be a Long Island Iced Tea?”
The waiter smiled politely. “This was sent over by the gentleman down the bar.”
He gestured toward the opposite end of the room. Jason and I both glanced over. A black-haired guy with slicked back hair waved at me.
“Well, shit.” Jason laughed. “I guess I’ve got competition.”
I smiled weakly. “Well, competition for nothing. I’m not dancing, I’m sorry. I’m just doing a favor for Thomas.”
“That’s okay.” He leaned his elbows on the table. “How about dinner instead? You hungry?”
My face scrunched. “Look, pal. I’m on the bad side of thirty. I pay alimony. I’m just here with my friend. I’m really not looking for anything.”
Jason studied me for another second before reaching into his jacket. “Here.”
It was a white business card and I accepted it. “In case you change your mind. And... I’m a lawyer, if you need help with that alimony.”
I blinked as he slid out of the booth. “Oh… Thanks.”
I watched him disappear into the crowd before looking down at the card. Huh.
I slipped it into my clutch. Before I could even take a breath, the man from down the bar slid into the booth across from me.
“Hi.”
“Aw, come on,” I groaned.
Thomas, where the fuck are you?
“Um...” I laughed awkwardly and was already scooting out again. “Thanks for sending the drink, but I have to go find my friend.”
“Wait!” He reached across the table, gently taking hold of my arm. He wasn’t rough, but I immediately tensed up. “Please, just one dance, yeah? Don’t run off.”
I tugged back. “No, I don’t really feel like dan—”
Something shifted around us. Not the music, but the energy.
The entire fucking room reacted to it. Conversations around us faltered one by one.
A couple standing near the bar suddenly stepped apart. One of the bartenders straightened.
Someone hurried past us carrying drinks, then abruptly changed direction and veered away.
The man holding my arm wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was looking over my shoulder. His smile disappeared.
Very slowly... I turned.
Like Moses parting the Red Sea, Nicola moved straight through the crowd. It wasn’t the slow, easy ‘the world bends for me’ walk. It was swift, terrifying.
No one stopped him. No one even came close. People simply... moved. The space opened ahead of him before he reached it.
His gaze never left me. More specifically– the hand wrapped around my arm.
This was not the man who argued with me over hair products. Not the man who watched old Italian movies. Not the man who fell asleep in my lap.
This was the don.
His expression was unreadable, a perfect poker face. He stopped beside the booth.
“Let go.”