Page 90 of Vows of a Mobster

“White wine, please.” She gave a small smile to the waiter and I felt jealousy, the need to demand all her smiles for me only.

“Any kind in particular?”

“Ugh, I’m not sure,” she murmured. “A light wine?”

“Chateau Le Pin,” I told the waiter.

Once he was gone, she put her hand back on the table, next to mine. I watched her, careful to hide this need for her touch. I didn’t want her holding back. My need for her was so strong and I wanted it reciprocated. I surely sounded like a pathetic, jealous boyfriend. But then, I couldn’t quite be called her boyfriend. Nothing about the way this started was orthodox.

Her slim fingers gently wrapped around my finger and something in my chest shifted. Was this what they called having a heart? My eyes lowered to our connected hands, her fingers cleared of any rings. I wished there was a wedding ring, my wedding ring, on that hand so everyone knew she was mine.

What the hell was happening to me?

“What did you do today?” I asked her, although I already knew. The moment felt intimate, like between husband and wife at the end of a long day.

“Emma, Marissa, and Daphne came over,” she replied, hesitance in her eyes, like she worried whether that was okay. I smiled at her, wanting her to feel comfortable in my home. She must have been assured by my smile, because she continued, “Emma played on the playground Marissa showed us, then we hung out by the pool. It was great that you have that little kiddie pool area. Much fancier than my plastic one and Emma loved it.”

The waiter came back with the wine, and I thought she’d move her hand away again. She stiffened lightly, but didn’t pull away. My heart thumped in the small victory.Yeah, I was acting like a love-struck schmuck approaching my fifties.

He poured wine into both of our glasses and she reached for the glass with her right hand, bringing it to her lips. The moment the wine touched her lips, a surprise flashed in her eyes.

“You like it?” Her face was expressive but I couldn’t quite tell her likes and dislikes. In the bedroom, yes. But outside of it, she kept it all closed in.

She licked her lips, a small smile playing around her face. “Yes, it is really good. Not too sweet and light.”

“Excellent.” This evening started exceptionally well. “Are you ready to order dinner?”

“I’ll get whatever you are getting,” she replied, taking another sip of wine. Her cheeks were lightly rosy. That wine might be light but it would easily get to her on an empty stomach.

I placed the order for both of us and once he was gone, I leaned over to Brianna’s ear and nibbled on it. “Tell me a long story, Bellissima,” I uttered in a low voice.

She tilted her head lightly, accommodating me while a low moan escaped her lips. God, she was becoming my obsession fast.

“I can’t think of one,” she murmured quietly.

“How about the long story about the color of your Jeep?” Her face might be hiding things from me but her body wasn’t. Her body stiffened for a fraction of a second, but it was gone the next instance.

“It’s not really that long of a story,” she rasped, leaning her body closer to me.

“Tell me,” I urged her. “Please.”

“Mateo, I- I can’t think when you are doing that,” she muttered.Good,I thought smugly.Maybe she feels a fraction of what I am feeling.

I stopped kissing her neck and waited. Her fingers were still wrapped around mine and I realized we looked good together. We were good together.

One day,I scoffed to myself.One day convinced me we are good together.

She cleared her throat, and I focused on her face. I wanted to learn to read every expression on her face, all the little signs she was hiding from the world… I wanted to know. She was mine to know and possess.

“I got my Jeep for my sixteenth birthday,” she spoke low, her expression serene but her eyes were full of emotions. “I loved… My dad and I got along great. My mother and I not so much. It was just a few days after my birthday. He took me shopping for my big gift while Mother was on one of her spa trips. It was our time; we called the school and told them I’d be out for a few days. When we got to the car sales lot, he let me pick whatever I wanted. I was jumping around like crazy, over the moon about it.” She took a deep breath and I wondered where it was going. “I picked this awesome lime green Jeep. Dad ensured it had all the security features and comforts,” a shadow crossed her face, but otherwise she kept her emotions off of it, “but all I cared about was the color.” I waited to hear how she went from lime green to red Jeep, and had a sense this was a small window to what her life was growing up as a senator’s daughter. “Anyhow, he was really generous and got more than a sixteen-year-old should get for her first car. We left the lot and I swore I was in the clouds. We both probably looked silly. Sixteen-year-old and a fifty-year-old with matching sunglasses and matching t-shirts,” she chuckled as if she was picturing the image. “The shirt had writing on it...I don’t give a damn. He let me drive the entire six hours through Napa Valley to Coastline Drive with the top down and music blasting through the speakers.” She took a deep breath. “We’d stop at certain spots and take a selfie, or just have ice cream. It was so simple but one of the best days of my life. Just two of us, nobody harassing us. He turned off his phone and we talked about stupid stuff… anything from how to dismantle the whole roof of the Jeep, how we would sail the Atlantic one day, just the two of us, and colleges to attend. Anyhow, my mother was back two days later. She freaked out. I guess somebody snapped a photo of us. It really wasn’t a big deal but she was furious. I missed two days of ballet lessons and classes. She said I was a bad influence and was ruining Dad’s career.”

A light bitter laugh escaped her. “And she hated the color of my Jeep. So I was grounded and couldn’t drive it for a week. One day I came back home from school to find it painted red. She said red is more her color than lime green.” She brought her glass to her lips and her eyes met mine. I knew without a doubt she was telling me the truth but couldn’t help but notice how she kept out the details of her parents’ identity. Not that I could blame her. “But I got the last word, that time at least. She didn’t know Dad put the Jeep in my name only. And I refused to have it changed.”

I disliked her mother. She was a controlling, jealous woman that didn’t deserve a daughter like Brianna.

The waiter came at that moment with our food.

“Ohhh, that smells wonderful,” she beamed. I wasn’t fooled to think she forgot all about her story.