Page 19 of Honor and Claim (A New Reign #2)

Chapter Nineteen

COSIMA

T ova taps her foot as Rina styles her hair.

We’ve been making small talk about what I’d been up to, and then we’d moved on to talk about books.

As much as we love talking about books, I know it’s not what Tova wants to be discussing right now.

She’s dying to get the tea, but she’ll just have to wait.

It’s almost comical how she keeps having to stop herself from asking me.

I don’t think it dawned on her that we couldn’t have full-on girl talk with the two stylists here. I am letting the other, Abby, put makeup on me. I normally want to do it myself, but Tova already had them here.

“Don’t pin her bangs back,” I say when Rina starts to push them to the side with a glittery Dior clip.

“They’re long.” A few strands are catching on her glasses.

“They need to be trimmed.” Rina’s lips press together, and I know she’s fighting a retort. “Her husband loves her bangs. It’s her signature look.”

“Really?” Tova’s face lights up with a smile.

“Yes.” Tova has this soft beauty to her and a unique style not everyone could pull off.

Tova peeks up at Rina, and I know what she wants to say and do, but her politeness stops her. It's not about being rude but speaking up for yourself. Tova is getting there. I think she's still new to having any kind of say about things.

It doesn't, however, stop me.

"I think we're done." I clap my hands together, standing up.

"What?" Abby appears almost panicked.

"It's fine. Really. If you could leave your things, I'll have someone drop them off to you later. You'll get paid extra."

"But—" Rina starts to push back, or I can sense it coming from the furrow of her brows and the narrowing of her eyes.

"I promise it will be well worth it, and honestly"—I give her my sweetest smile—"I'm not really asking.

" Tova's eyes widen, and she fights to keep her face neutral.

"So if you don't mind." I walk over to the tall double doors to the library, opening one.

I see Mickey standing there. His arms are folded over his chest.

He gives me a chin nod, which I return with a smile. Mickey's been around for years, so it's not shocking War has him watching over Tova.

"These lovely ladies are leaving," I tell him.

"Right," one huffs, I think Rina, but whatever.

"Thank you for your time." I close the door behind them.

"God, I love you." Tova jumps up from her chair. "You have to teach me how to do that."

"In time," I laugh. "That's why you need me."

"I need you for more than that." She grabs my hand. "Now tell me what's going on. I almost exploded waiting for the details.” Tova leads me back over to the chairs we'd been sitting in.

"Sit," I tell her, scanning the items the ladies left behind and finding a pair of shears to cut her bangs.

"Come on. You're killing me here."

I laugh. "As you know, Z and I are a thing."

"Well, yeah." Tova rolls her eyes. "I need more than that."

"Don't roll your eyes. I need you to stay still," I order her as I start to cut her bangs.

"Fine," Tova says without moving her mouth, remaining completely still.

“Why don’t we wait for me to tell you everything?” I tell her when I’m done with her bangs. I run my fingers through them, giving them a little fluff. Yeah, Tova totally rocks bangs.

“What, why?” From her expression, you’d think I kicked her puppy.

“You just got married and”—I put my hand to her stomach—“you got a baby in there. This time is for you.”

“Nope, nope, nope,” Tova repeats over and over, shaking her head vehemently. “That’s bullcrap. If you don’t want to tell other people, fine, but you have to tell me,” she says very dramatically. “I can’t believe you would put so much stress on me in my condition.” Her hand now goes to her belly.

“I think you’ve been hanging out with me too much.”

“Good.” Tova raises her chin, like she's proud of that. It hits me right in the feels. My dramatics can annoy people. Yet she seems to admire that about me.

"I'm not sure we have the time."

"CliffsNotes then."

"CliffsNotes? Really?" That is not going to work for her. Tova loves the details; we all do. That can be the best part.

"Yes, you owe me. You up and disappeared, and then I found out you're with Marks. You two were over there being BFFs, and I wasn't included.” I can see the hurt in her eyes, but she's trying not to show it.

"You're pissed."

"I'm a little?—"

"You. Are. Pissed." I emphasize each word. "Go on."

"All right, I'm pissed, okay?"

"Right, and I'm sorry. That would have really hurt my feelings if the roles were reversed," I tell her. I wanted Tova and War to get their time together and not get wrapped up in my drama, but I get where she is coming from.

"Thank you."

"No, thank you. You and Marks mean a lot to me. Our friendship is special."

"It is." Now Tova's eyes start to fill with tears. I can't help it; mine do too. "Sorry, it's the hormones or whatever." She lets out a tiny sniffle.

"Yeah, I totally get that." I hand her mascara to put on.

"Thanks." She takes it from me. Then freezes. Crap, she’s going to call me on my slip-up. I should’ve known she’d catch it. "Wait. You totally get that?" I nod. There’s no use in lying.

"Oh my God!" Tova jumps up from her seat, flinging herself at me, wrapping me in a hug. The doors to the library fly open, Mickey rushes in to see what all of the commotion is.

"We're okay, just girl crap," I tell him over Tova's shoulder. She's still hugging the hell out of me.

"Yeah, totally okay." She releases her hold on me.

"Mrs. Marino?"

"No." Tova points the mascara at Mickey. "These are excited tears. Don't you go telling on me." I nod in agreement so Mickey knows she's telling the truth.

"Yes, ma'am. Let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you, Mickey," Tova says as he closes the doors. She turns back to me. "Out with more details while we get ready." I can't tell her no, so I spill more as we get ready.

When we're done, I head up to my room to change into cocktail attire.

I pick a strapless minidress that I haven't gotten a chance to wear.

It's a creamy white with embroidered 3D floral flowers I can’t stop touching.

It's tight on the top but flares at the waist. I pair it with petal pink mini heels that match the trim on the flowers.

I turn in the mirror, my first thoughts going to Z and what he will think of my outfit.

As much as I love the dress, I hope it doesn’t make it through the night.

I put on lip gloss before heading back out of my room.

I planned to go to Z’s room and see if he’s ready, but my mom is coming down the hallway toward me.

“You’re home.”

“Mom.” She wraps me in a tight hug. Over her shoulder, I see Z step out of his room, a pissed-off expression on his face. When he sees me, it softens, but only momentarily. The hell is wrong?

“Cosima, are you listening to me?” Mom laughs, releasing me from her embrace.

“Sorry, what?”

“How was your flight?”

“Oh, good.”

“I love this dress. Is it a Bronx and Banco?”

“Yes, I love their stuff.” I’m trying to stay focused on my mom, but it’s hard when my thoughts are now worried over Z.

“It’s perfect for tonight.”

“What do you mean?” This is a simple dinner party—or so I thought.

“Come on. People are already arriving, and we can’t leave Tova too long.” Mom slips her arm into mine. “Oh, Z, you’re home too.” Mom slips her arm back out of mine to go to Z. She gives him a kiss on the cheek and a hug. “Are you okay?” she asks him.

“No, he hasn’t annoyed me in the last hour,” I quip, keeping up the facade of us still being at each other's throats.

"Don't be a brat." Z's eyes rake me up and down. My stomach is fluttering thinking about later. "What are you wearing?" I can’t tell if he’s saying that to give me a dig back or he really doesn’t care for the dress.

"You two." Mom shakes her head at us. "Come on." I let Mom take my arm again and head down the stairs with her. I peek over my shoulder to see Z right behind us, that glare still on his face.

Even his glares are sexy as hell. He changed into a pair of dark gray slacks and a white button-up shirt.

I can faintly see a few of his darker tattoos through the shirt.

The suit fits him perfectly, molding to his fit physique.

An ache begins to form between my thighs, picturing exactly how he looks underneath that suit.

I’m never going to make it through this entire dinner if I keep going down this road.

“Dad,” I call out when we enter the parlor.

This is the only time the room is used. We use it for entertaining guests, both before and after dinner.

It’s stuffy with uncomfortable furniture.

It could have been plucked from the 1920s with its thick molding and oversized fireplace.

Mom once told me that was by design so people didn’t linger too long.

"Sweetheart." Dad motions for us to come over. I walk over to him while observing everyone else in the room.

"Dad," I whisper into his ear after kissing his cheek. "What are you doing?"

"I came to see my daughter."

"Dad." I give him a look that tells him I'm not buying the bullshit he is trying to tell me. It's only a quick look because others are in the room, and I'm not going to be disrespectful in front of them, but he knows I'm annoyed.

“Come, I want to show my daughter off.” Dad puts his hand on my back, not giving me much of a choice. I see Z out of the corner of my eye. Oh, now I know why he’s pissed, and I’m worried for everyone in the room.

Thankfully, War and Tova enter the parlor. War is quick to lock in on Z, but he’s good at picking out the threats in a room.

“Cosima, you remember Mr. Amato,” my dad says as we approach the elderly gentleman.

“Of course. It’s lovely to see you again, Mr. Amato.” He leans in to kiss me on one cheek and then the other.

“Please call me Tullio. Mr. Amato makes me feel like an old man.” I smile to be polite. “I swear you look more and more beautiful each time I see you, Cosima. You definitely take after your mother.” I smile, knowing that comment has definitely bothered my father.

“Watch it, Tullio,” my dad warns, making me giggle.

“Cosima, you remember my son, Salvatore.” Crap. I know what my father is doing. I clocked it when I entered the room and saw who all was here.

No wonder Z is all bent out of shape. This is my father’s way of trying to nudge me toward finding a husband without forcing me. Little does he know that I already have a husband, so none of this is necessary.

“Pleasure seeing you again, Salvatore.” I reach my hand out in greeting, knowing there is no way in hell Z is going to allow Salvatore to kiss me.

“Call me Sal.” He takes my hand and begins to lift it to his mouth.

I don’t need to even look at Z to know he’s staring at us. I can feel his gaze on me like a physical touch. Maybe in this instance it’s more like a burning inferno threatening to end Salvatore’s life just for touching me.

Before my hand can reach his lips, there’s a loud crash, causing Salvatore to drop my hand. All of us turn to look around and realize that one of the servers dropped their tray. How convenient.

My gaze quickly goes to Z, who just so happens to be standing next to where the server went down. There’s no mistaking the look on Z’s face. I need to navigate this situation carefully, or Z is going to out us.

Usually, I would be a brat about all of this and try to needle Z.

I would play up the whole Salvatore thing to ruffle Z’s feathers and make him jealous.

I bet that would get me one of those spankings.

But even I know there’s a time and a place for such things.

This is not it. Another man flirting with me is not a joking matter.

I know for damn sure I wouldn’t like it if the shoe were on the other foot.

I love you, I mouth over to Z with the smallest movement of my lips as possible.

My only plan tonight is to make sure everyone here makes it out alive.