Luxurious would be the appropriate word for it, or old-fashioned.
Depended on how you wanted to look at it, I guessed.
The café had two floors with a round stage right in the middle, where talented musicians and singers performed every night, recreating famous band hits with their spin on them. Currently, they played all the hits by the legendary Queen. “Bohemian Rhapsody” being one of my favorites by them. It was wonderful it became popular again; kids should really remember some good classics.
Gold, black, and red dominated the colors. The furniture consisted of round, wooden tables with two chairs closer to the stage and several closed booths in various corners. They were hidden by golden chiffon curtains and created an aura of privacy and intimacy.
The staff wore rather extravagant clothes, as they recreated the twenties look, with waitresses pinning their hair up with clips, while wearing flapper dresses and lacy gloves. Men, on the other hand, wore pants, leather shoes, hats, and T-shirts with vests. The air conditioning ran constantly, proving to be comfortable for the customers and staff. The lighting was subdued with only lamps provided on the tables, so the whole focus was on the stage with bright lights for the stars to shine.
When we arrived, we were greeted by the hostess, Sonya, who wore a long red dress with an open back. For some reason, she kept giving me weird glances and frowning every time someone called out my name. As the head manager as well, she oversaw the business traveling between Italy and the US.
Maybe Angelica was an unusual name for the States, although I seriously doubted it. Wasn't it the country that had ancestors from all over the world?
She proposed a booth accented by curtains, claiming this was my favorite. How I would have a favorite in a place I’d never visited before was beyond me, but we just refused, as Ciara always preferred to be closer to the bar.
“Like a good maid of honor, I have to ask you a question.” Ciara leaned forward, only inches separating us, and whispered, “Are you sure about this marriage? I can still help you run away tomorrow.”
Licking my dry lips, I replied honestly, “Please.”
Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to reply and then grinned, sternly waggling her index finger at me.
“For a second there, I thought you were serious.” Then she called out to the girls, who were mostly her friends, to tell them we needed to dance and have some fun. According to Ciara, in my old life, I was more of a loner and didn't hang out with the crowd much, so she couldn't find anyone from my side to invite here. Instead, she chose the most easygoing women she knew. I suggested not doing much with the party, as really, wasn't it supposed to be all giggly and fun because the bride couldn't wait for the big day? But Ciara would have none of that and created everything she wanted. At one point, I just stopped caring, just as I did with the wedding in which Mom reigned.
I was such a pushover, pathetic really. But then to fight you had to care, and why would I care which flowers or dress to choose for the event, when the event itself depressed me beyond measure?
Sighing heavily, I sipped my drink and wondered when it would be an appropriate time to finally leave and get some sleep.
Dominic
“So, man, a party for everybody tonight huh?” Michael roared with laughter, hitting his knee with his palm while Vitya’s lips shook a little, as if he barely contained his own amusement, and Anton cast his eyes down, probably finding this whole situation hilarious as fuck.
“Shut up, Michael.” My tone left no room for argument, and the three of them straightened, adopting serious expressions on their faces. Good. Who the hell did they think they were speaking like this to me? As much as they were my friends, I held the position of pakhan, not them. “Once I walk through that door, you guard the place like hawks,” I said to the six enforcers by the car, and once they nodded, I continued. “Vitya and Michael, you come inside with me and make sure the place is safe. Anton, make sure Ciara is occupied.”
He half smiled. “No problem, Pakhan.”
Giving him a hard look, I clarified, “Occupied, not fucked.” Anton had a reputation with women—loved them, in other words. Despite the shitty backstory of being a one-woman man—what he fed to Rosa when he acted as her university friend—he was no saint. In fact, threesomes was his favorite thing to do in his spare time. Apparently, he had a thing for bondage and flogger spankings as well.
What-the-fuck-ever. As long as women were into it and didn't get hurt, I stayed the hell out of it. I just wondered if his behavior would ever bite him in the ass someday when he’d decided to be with someone permanently.
“Oliver?”
“Igor is on him. They have dinner with Ercole, so I doubt he’ll show up. In any case, we would know about it.”
Satisfied with Anton’s answer, I spun around and marched toward the gate to the café Rosa and I loved to go to back in New York. Hilarious as fuck they’d branched out here of all places.
At reception, Sonya greeted me with a wide smile. Before I could even say anything, she pointed at the bar. “Rosa is there.”
Fuck, she recognized her. “Did you say anything to her?”
She stepped back, probably taken aback by my tone. “Just that I could give her your favorite booth, but she declined.”
I opened my mouth to reply that she should have known better than giving her options, but my attention snapped to the bar, where Rosa sat on the barstool in a sexy red dress, which hugged her body perfectly, showcasing her amazing bronze skin, shapely legs, and her hair cascading down her back. She sucked through the straw of some kind of pink drink, while waving to the dance floor where Ciara and her friends apparently danced, and I noticed Anton making his way toward her, matching the moves, and her eyes lit up with interest.
Good job, byk.
Rosa sighed heavily, as if the weight of the world lay on her shoulders, but then stilled, blinking rapidly as our eyes clashed. Joining her on the seat next to her, I said, “Angelica.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked furiously, while glancing at her sister.
