Brando grinned from ear to ear. “Our song,” he translated, no hesitation whatsoever.
“It can be,” I breathed out.
It took him a moment to answer. His eyes were solid on mine. “Yeah, you’re my ballerina girl.” It wasn’t the words that he used, precisely, it was the way he had said them—with a soft tremble. There was no denying the emphasis on “my.”
The room seemed to fall into a deeper silence until Violet snatched my wrist again—the bell over the door had gone off, announcing more late-night guests.
The two Italians had been so smooth that they hadn’t even made a noise when they had entered.
I didn’t bother to find out who had entered this time, as consumed as my heart was with the man standing before me. Nothing else mattered, not even when Ace called my name.
Brando cleared his throat, though, breaking the connection. He didn’t look, but the mood had changed around us.
It took me a moment toseeAce. I blinked, because he just didn’t belong, and he needed to disappear. After my eyes had closed and then reopened, there were more of him—meaning, he had brought friends, Todd the coward included. Most of his friends had shuffled off to their table, all except one or two, who had stood by to watch. Rubberneckers. Todd glanced at me before he scuttled off, tail tucked between his legs. Violet, suddenly a live wire, shot him the bird and mouthed “chicken.”
Ace stood next to Brando and tapped on the table to get my attention. “Hey, I didn’t get a chance to see you at the party.”
I shrugged. “Your loss.”
He gave me a slow smile. “True.”
My eyes went ping-pong between him and Brando. Words, a fight, a total mess, but nothing of the sort came. Brando reached over to take his (my) jacket from the back of the seat, then told me he would meet me at the door, and then he did exactly that—went to stand by the door.
This behavior seemed out of character, but compared to the two Italians, Ace seemed like…a kid. There was no comparison.
Ace tapped harder. “Did you give any thought to the surprise you found in your pocket?”
Brando’s face didn’t change, but the air around him did. He was becoming impatient.
“The food here is really good,” I motioned to my plate. “Try the pancakes.”
Leaving him with these parting words, I went to get up, but Ace took hold of my arm. Every guy at our table stood, and even the staff stopped their jobs and stared. Brando took a step forward, his eyes holding the threat.
Ace released my arm and nodded toward Brando. “He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to mess up. He’s going to break your heart. And when he does, I’ll be the one you come running to.” Taking a piece of my leftover pancake, he rolled it up and popped it into his mouth, then winked at me. “You’re right, darlin’. I think I’ll have the pancakes.”
Chapter Twelve
Scarlett
After the all-night diner, Brando and I decided to head to my father’s land in the country. Since Violet had to be in on our plans, she invited herself. In turn, she invited Mick. Mick invited Mitch. Mitch invited the blonde (Penny). Penny invited her friend, Johnny’s girlfriend, and so on.
By this time I had to convince Brando not to cancel. I didn’t want them to ruin what we had planned. I didn’t know if he would ever agree to do it again.
My father owned over a hundred acres of land and more than enough cabins, I had reminded him. He had agreed, but it felt like a near thing. Ace’s comment about the “surprise in my pocket” had changed his mood, along with the two Italian men in suits. He hadn’t brought up either, but his mood became more brooding, and in turn, he became quieter, closed off.
We stopped at an all-night grocery store, where Brando stood outside with some of the guys and stared inside at me. I took my time searching the aisles. I mostly shopped alone, a plan in my head for how the weekend should go.
Elliott’s death had forced me to broaden my horizons, find other things to do to occupy my time besides dancing. Of course, this was to my mother’s extreme disapproval. It didn’t seem to matter though. For the first time in my life, ignoring her had come easier, and since she knew the reason behind my withdrawal, she seemed to let me slide. For now.
Cooking, of all things, had been something that I found I was good at. So that’s where the majority of my time was spent, looking for actual food. The other girls, who were all older, were more interested in booze and sugar.
Violet and Mitch’s date—Penny—chattered in the next aisle over from me. Suspicion tickled the fine hairs on my body. Violet’s sudden interest in Penny was the transparent hand floating over my intuition.
Without being too obvious, I peeked over the aisle at the two of them.
“Do you really like him?” Violet nudged Penny.
Penny shrugged and called to her friend—she wanted her opinion on wine. I doubted five-dollar wines were going to vary that much in terms of taste, but I kept the opinion to myself. Penny seemed unsuspecting, but I found it odd that Violet followed her around, asking questions aimed at her and Mitch’s relationship. And paired with her reaction at the diner when they walked in, my stomach sank.
