“She died when I was younger.”
“It seems we have something in common then,” I said.
“Seems like we do.”
Our eyes held. Slowly, oh so slowly, he leaned closer and placed a kiss on my lips. When I opened my eyes, he was watching me with an expression I couldn’t explain. As a few servers entered again, I sat back, feeling light-headed.
“Mr. Mac? Are you ready for me to clear this—”
Fucka me.It was Bruno. I hadn’t even noticed him come in the room. I had assumed Capo had given him the night off, or maybe he only worked days. Capo said that Sylvester was his night manager. I had only seen Big Mouth during the day. I had never come here at night. Instead of a fine suit, like usual, he was wearing cleaning garb. Something red was smeared across his forehead.
At the sight of me, he stopped dead. Even in nice clothes, with expensive jewelry on my finger, wrist, and ears, he recognized me. The shock in his eyes came and went in a flash, and then it was replaced by coldness.
He hid it well when Capo called his name and then introduced me as his wife.
Bruno wiped his hands on his dirty apron, and then went to hold his hand out, but Capo shook his head, bringing his drink to his lips, not even looking at the man.
“Your hands are dirty. Too dirty to touch my wife.”
My cheeks burned and I looked away. I knew what Capo was doing. I hated it. It only brought attention to something I didn’t want to acknowledge.
“Of course, Mr. Mac,” Bruno said. His voice was small. “I wasn’t thinking.” Then his voice lowered. “I’d like to talk to you about my position. I don’t know—”
“I’m out with my wife,” Capo said, cutting him off. He took another sip of his whiskey. “We’ll talk business later. Right now, you have a job to do. And that’s to clean this table. I want it spotless. After, you’ll help Emilio box the leftovers. Then you’ll search the streets for the hungriest people you can find. You’ll feed them.”
“Yes, sir.” Bruno started clearing away everything we’d eaten, and I tried to avoid his eyes and the nearness of him when he came close to grab a dish or silverware.
It was so fucking awkward that I wanted to kick Capo in the shin with my sharp heels for doing what he did. Who did he think he was? The king of New York? He couldn’t react this way whenever someone was mean to me. Beyond that, this made me feel even worse. It shone a big light on what had been done, and it proved to Bruno that he had gotten to me. He had made me feel small. Insignificant.
Whenever a server would enter, Capo would dismiss him. He wanted Bruno to handle it all by himself while I sat and watched, like that would make me feel better.
After all of the plates had been cleared and Bruno had wiped madly, polishing the fancy table, he came close enough to me that I could smell the dumpsters on him. A missed crumb fell in my lap, and he apologized, but when I met his eye, he gave me the coldest look. When I looked at Capo, he was staring straight ahead again, raking his teeth over his bottom lip.
A second later, Capo was out of the chair, the heavy wood turned over onto the floor, and he had Bruno pinned against the wall. A few servers came in carrying desserts, Sylvester right behind them, and when he noticed what was going on, he shooed the servers in and shut the door. The servers and Sylvester stood clustered in a darkened corner, watching.
I stood, squeezing my fingers, not sure what to do.
Capo’s voice was low, but understandable. He was telling Bruno that he knew what he had done to me, when I was out on the street, andwhen he was cleaning the table, and if he ever saw him so much as look at me again, he’d fuck him up beyond repair.
I glanced at the servers. None of them would even look at me. No wonder. They were too afraid.
Without making a sound, I slipped out of the room, passed the dining area and bar, and went out the front door. Giovanni appeared out of nowhere, calling for me to wait for Capo, but I refused. I didn’t stop until Capo grabbed me by the arm, forcing me to.
His eyes almost glowed in the darkness, looking murderous. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
“I don’t know! But I need some space.”
“Space, ah?”
He took my arm, leading me out of the way of pedestrian traffic. There was a sports bar on the corner, where televisions playing a variety of games lined the walls. One television played the news.
I flung my arm out of his hold when we were to the side. “Space, Capo. Do you need the definition of the word?” Damn Caspar. His definition clause had gotten to me.
Capo took a step back, glaring at me. “Space.” He spelled the word. “Position (two or more items) at a distance from one another. I know very well what the word means, Mariposa. What I don’t fucking know is why you want it.”
“Ass,” I said. “Do you know the definition of that one?”
“You’re testing my patience.”
