“My friend.” I backed away and showed Cyndee her seat, far from my nosey family. Once she sat down, I reached my hand out to my father to shake.
“Late as always,” he said.
“I was a little preoccupied.” I nodded toward Cyndee. “You’d be late too.”
My father grinned, finding my response acceptable.
“We’ll meet your new girl at the restaurant.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. He expected me and Cyndee to dine with the family after the performance and there would be no getting out of it.
“Assolutamente, Padre.” Absolutely we’d be there. I knew the drill and my father knew that I knew the drill. But I sensed he wanted Cyndee to hear what his expectations were.
The lights deemed then blinked alerting us that the show was going to start.
“Now you can relax until intermission. I’ll whisk you out of here before my family corners you,” I whispered in her ear and took her hand, knowing many pairs of eyes were watching us.
“Okay,” Cyndee replied as the lights deemed fully, and the orchestra began to play.
This very well might be the longest, most challenging night of my life.
8
Fabio
We survived The Nutcracker, but the evening wasn’t over yet. Next, we would have to endure a meal and lots of drinking with my large family.
I hated not being able to read Cyndee’s emotions right now. She was quiet and stoic, not at all like she was during the performance when her face lit up like the star atop a Christmas tree and she laughed and clapped.
At the end, she stood cheering with more enthusiasm than I’d ever seen in person. Her eyes sparkled with emotion, and she repeatedbrava. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to sound Italian as part of her act in front of my family or if she genuinely knew the word. At this point, I didn’t care. My mother seemed pleased.
I listened to Cyndee exhaling a deep breath. I slowly cut my gaze at her beside me in the car and her hand was on her heart.
“Is everything okay? You’re very quiet,” I said.
“I’m good. Still reeling from that amazing performance. I’ve only ever seen local dance schools do The Nutcracker. You know, teenage girls and younger. But the San Francisco Ballet is on a whole other level.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” I tried not to look at her for very long. She might get the wrong idea, like I was actually attracted to her.She was a beautiful woman outside of her cleaning uniform, but nothing could ever happen between us.
“I didn’t like it.”
“You didn’t?” I asked utterly surprised. “Then what was that in the opera house.”
“You didn’t let me finish. I loved it.” She smiled brightly. “I’m jealous you see it every year. What a wonderful holiday treat.”
“It’s only because of Zia. One day she’ll no longer be part of the ballet and I won’t go anymore.”
“How sad. Your sister was outstanding.”
“Thank you.”
“So, what’s next?” she asked, fidgeting with the hem of her fur coat. I had to praise my little sister for selecting the perfect outfit for Cyndee. She looked like a million bucks. No one would ever believe she wasn’t part of high society.
Hell, if I hadn’t seen her on her knees cleaning my toilet, I wouldn’t have believed it. Instantly, I imagined Cyndee on her knees in front of me dressed as she was now. My dick rumbled to life, and I cursed myself for even going there.
“Drinks and dessert at our favorite Italian bistro.” I tried to imagine the last man Ross had tortured to death. Remembering the fucker’s bloody face and missing eyes quieted my growing hardon.
“And everyone will be there? Even the children?”
“We gather at the bistro to celebrate Zia’s success. All of us. The young ones too.” I was feeling in control again. “I’ll try to intercept all the questions. But you might want to have some basic answers.”
