I could hear Matteo’s voice on the other end, sharp and no nonsense, but I couldn’t make out the words. I knew exactly what he was saying, though, and let him say it. It seemed almost childish, until Mariano turned on Ace, eyes narrowed, and then snapped out an order to Guido towatch this man with my mamma. Before I could snatch the phone from him, he had already handed it to Guido.
It wouldn’t be Matteo’s voice coming through the phone but my husband’s. If he had an issue with me leaving, he could take it up with me. Guido hadn’t approved the trip, I did. Besides, he left me!
Huffing out a breath, I ordered Mariano back in the water. Instead of listening as usual, he dallied, unsure.
“Come on,” I said, removing my sandals and cutoff shorts, revealing the entire black bathing suit underneath. Mariano stared at Ace as I did. “Let’s go swimming. It’ll be nice.”
Ace grinned, seemingly entertained by my security detail and my young sons.
This man has no idea, I thought, before I took Mariano by the hand, and he led me in the water. The temperature was a bit cooler than the air, which made me shiver at first, but then I melted into it like butter.
Guido stood by the edge of the pool, watching and listening, the phone pressed to his ear. Mariano, seeing that I was safe and close, had gone back to his game.
Ignoring the glare Guido had on the water, I started to swim, enjoying the buoyancy the water gave me. The feeling of being weightless, free from the aches left over by the accident.
Could I even call it that? It was the furthest thing from an accident. An accident implied an unfortunate event that was no one’s fault. Nemours had purposely tried to kill me. Vehicular manslaughter.
Pushing the thought aside, I focused on the freedom of the cool, clean water. How I seemed to just float, and I found that my body moved more easily, not at odds with the tension in my bones.
After a minute or two, I took Marciano with me, and we swam together.
Guido put the phone in my bag, stripped down to his swim trunks—to the delight of all the women around—and waded into the water. But the peaceful look on my face contrasted with the tight look on his. Whatever his “boss” had told him, he had decided not to share it with me.
* * *
The next night,since no one felt like cooking, we decided to find a restaurant that gave us a taste of the real “Austin” experience to dine at. One of Mitch’s friends had recommended a place that he claimed had some of the best food Austin had to offer, so we gave it a try.
When we arrived, we soon found out that the best Austin had to offer meant the two-step. Before or after eating, a dance hall, open to all ages, welcomed even the most two-left-foot dancers to give it a shot. Dance lessons were even offered for a small fee.
Given the fact that the temperature had been hovering near ninety-five degrees at night, I’d worn a strapless black and white maxi dress that flared at the bottom some. The material was snug at the top but moved freely with me everywhere else, allowing the air to touch my legs. Gold bangles Brando had given me and a pair of flat sandals that were handmade in Italy completed the ensemble.
Having no idea that most of the guests would be wearing jeans and boots, or as Mitch called them, “shit kickers,” I felt somewhat overdressed.
After a while, though, it didn’t seem to matter. My children were being taught how to do the two-step, and I was able to capture the moments on camera. Marciano seemed to really enjoy the music and learning how to dance, or trying to. Most of the time he shook his bottom and laughed.
Mariano laughed, too, watching and helping his baby brother, while Mia, ever the determined one, watched the instructor as though her life depended on it.
One detail that Mitch had left out, though, was the fact that his motorcycle club had decided to meet us at the restaurant, including Ace Holden. He might have been tamer than what I was used to, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t intent.
When he first saw me, he whistled low, giving me a compliment that would’ve made me blush once upon a time. But I had no interest in him, and neither did I want todance, or take part inmindless chit chatwith him so he could get to know me better.
I lifted both hands, showing him my wedding rings, keeping my eyes on my kids. “I’m married,” I said, and more than once. “I don’t make mindless chit chat with other men.”
“Where’s your husband?” he asked.
“None of your business.”
He lifted his beer toward me. “A woman like you.” He shook his head, taking a pull. “I wouldn’t let her out of my sight. You’re almost too beautiful,Scarlett. Fine-ass name too. Perfect for a fine woman.”
Guido had come close a time or two to taking him “outside.” Outside could’ve meant a plethora of situations, none I wanted to entertain.
Mariano gave him daggers throughout the night.
Finally, I asked Mitch to talk to him. Mitch made a derogatory comment about the Fausti family, one that made me bristle, and then squeezed Ace’s shoulder before he pulled him in another direction.
It was apparent that Brando and Mitch had something going on between them and had for a while. It had all begun when Mitch and Violet decided not to stay close to us and move. The issue with Peter seemed to make it worse.
The fact that we chose to wait to tell them about the Sue Jones situation seemed to really grate on Mitch. Violet was upset, too, until I had explained our reasoning. She didn’t like it, but she took it for what it was. The truth.
