She was one of the reasons why I was with Corrado tonight. He spent a lot of his time doing business, and even though he had the pool house converted into a place for me to work on my candles, the mansion felt suffocating.
I needed to breathe. To live outside of the confines of the baroque gates.
It did not seem as if the wives usually came with the men to places like this. Corrado did not say as much, but this was not a social visit. He was here for a different reason, one that was not entirely business-related, either. He had told me he was looking for a man who had something to do with his past, with his father, Corrado Palermo.
I had never been to a place like this, and when I told Anna I was going, she demanded that I send her proof or it did not happen. I slipped the phone out of my pocket, taking pictures of the people, of the stage, of the entire setup as we made our way to a private table.
The music, the lights, the smells…it all started to move through my bloodstream. I had the urge to dance.
We stopped at a booth tucked away in one of the darkest corners. The seats were blue velvet and plush.
“No.” Corrado helped me slip off my dress coat. “No dancing.” He set it over the crook of his arm, gesturing for me to sit. He eyed me up and down before I did, looking over my dress again.
It was a shorter version of the one I wore to the opera. The rich gold fabric hugged all of my curves, even the small swell of my belly. He had gotten me out of it before we left. The look in his eyes told me he wanted to do it again.
It must have been written across my forehead that I wanted to dance, though, since he mentioned it. “Have you ever been to a place like this?”
“Yeah,” he said. “But not to dance.”
A candle burned in the middle of the table. I put my hand over it, feeling the heat beneath my palm. I inhaled when some of the smoke lingered in the air. Chocolate. I wondered…no. It could not be, even though they smelled the same.
My family in Modica was not the only ones who made candles that smelled of lemon and chocolate. I even asked Anna about it. She said she was not aware that thezieshipped their candles to America.
“The same man who owns the restaurant owns this place?” I asked.
Corrado stared ahead, his eyes turned up to the second level of The Club. It was made of glass. It seemed like he was trying to see through it.
I touched him on the arm. It took him a minute, but he looked at me. He took my hand and kissed my fingers. “You thirsty, angel eyes?”
“Yes,” I said. When we walked in the air was cool, but back here where people crowded around the stage, it felt like a sauna.
Nunzio turned around and Corrado nodded at him. That was all it took for them to move. A woman working the club came back with a tray with two drinks and a bottle. After she had gone, Nunzio set everything in front of us.
Corrado had ordered Amaro del Capo. The glass was frosted to keep it cold. As he drank, I could smell mint, anise seed, and licorice floating in the air.
My mouth watered as I imagined how it would taste on his tongue. I picked my glass up to take a sip of water with lemon, but he set his hand against my neck and pulled my mouth to his.
“You make me do things I shouldn’t while out in public,” he said against my mouth before he kissed me again. He tasted like the drink, and I did not want him to stop. He did, though, when he must have sensed one of the men wanting his attention.
Nunzio cleared his throat. “Mariposa and Keely are here to see your wife.”
I went to get up when the name made it to my ear. Mariposa. Mari. I had not seen her since Modica. I remembered then that she and Amadeo lived in New York most of the time.
Hearing her name was like catching my breath.
Corrado put his hand on my arm to stop me. He nodded at Nunzio to let them through. She stepped through the men as if it were an everyday occurrence to have to bypass a muscle wall to get to someone. Keely, her red-haired friend, was beside her. Keely sat next to me, and Mari hugged me from across the table before she took a seat next to Corrado.
He studied her face, a little harder than he had in Modica.
“Corrado,” I said, “this is mycugina, Mariposa. Mariposa, this ismio marito, Corrado.”
She held out her hand and he took it, but she did not let go right away.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, staring at him in the glow of the flame.
He cleared his throat and took his hand back. He only nodded. I looked between the two of them. After a second, she looked back at me, a smile on her face. She introduced us to Keely, but Keely only waved. She was staring at Corrado, too.
We exchanged small talk. Mari asked about the wedding. I asked about Saverio. Then I asked her where Amadeo was. I could not see Mari here without him. If Corrado was…possessive, I knew Amadeo to be the same.
