Chapter Ten
The rest of dinnerwas uneventful. Jimmy refused to give Cold any further satisfaction about the wedding planning by avoiding the topic entirely. He chatted with his father about his work down at the prison, asked Dario what new sort of musical numbers he was planning for the club, and gossiped with Maury over anything of interest that had been pawned lately.
The evening concluded with lots of hugs and promises to visit again soon, especially from Rowena, who was beyond thrilled for tomorrow’s brunch. Jimmy forced a smile and remained congenial all throughout, even when he said goodbye to Charlie.
Guests gone and wineglass in hand, Jimmy began a very purposeful march upstairs. The hour wasn’t particularly late, but he was tired and his mood was still sour. He wasn’t surprised when Cold followed him, but he did his best to ignore him.
“You’re angry with me,” Cold noted as they got dressed for bed.
“You truly are a mastermind,” Jimmy grumbled, opting to skip brushing his teeth in lieu of finishing his wine. “How perceptive of you.”
“Is this about the guest list?”
“About all of this!” Jimmy groaned, setting the empty glass on the bedside table. “What’s the point of me planning anything for our wedding when you’re still doing so much behind my back?”
“The guest list is important but very tedious,” Cold said firmly as he slid into bed with a frown. “I had to make several important decisions about who was invited. I didn’t think you’d care.”
“Our wedding is supposed to be important, too,” Jimmy pointed out. “And yet, I’m doing that on my own.”
“It’s for you,” Cold insisted. “It’s my gift to you—”
“Your half-ass attempt at apologizing, you mean,” Jimmy corrected, getting in bed and promptly tugging the majority of the covers to his side. “Look, I’ll plan out this stupid wedding so all your important friends can come or whatever, but I’m not standing at the altar with you.”
“Jimmy—” Cold began.
“No!” Jimmy argued defiantly. “I’m not going to do it. I never said yes, and you haven’t asked me. You haven’t gotten down on one knee and looked into my eyes and said that you loved me and that you want to marry me.”
Cold’s rising anger was reduced to a simmer. “That’s what you want?” he asked quietly.
Jimmy wanted to choke him. “Yes!” He threw his hands up in frustration. “Fuck! That’s all I’ve ever wanted. A real and heartfelt proposal. No more deals, okay?”
Cold seemed to be thinking it over.
“Do that, and I will go to whatever stupid fake wedding you want.” Jimmy waited for Cold to say something, but he was still lost in thought. Annoyed by his continued silence, Jimmy grumbled to himself and rolled over to go to sleep.
When Jimmy woke up the next morning, Cold was gone. Considering the odd hours his gangster lover kept, it wasn’t unusual. The giant bouquet of red roses at his bedside, however, was a surprise.
Bleary-eyed, he reached out to examine the card.
