“WHY IS your sister ignoring me?”
Cross groaned as he fell back on the couch. He used a gray throw pillow to hold over his face for longer than Tom thought was probably healthy. Then, his friend mumbled something Tom couldn’t understand.
“What was that?”
Cross whipped the pillow to the side, and glared. The pillow crashed against the flat screen television—making it sway dangerously—and then fell to the floor.
“I said,” Cross grumbled, “why can’t this pillow just fucking kill me? That’d be awesome.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“I told you not to get into it with Camilla, Tom.”
Fair enough.
“So this is her deal, now? She just drops somebody with no warning and that’s it?”
Cross sighed, and stared at the ceiling as though he wished it would swallow him whole. “Usually, yeah, that’s exactly what she does. Mostly after a first date, though. So, maybe feel special because you got two.”
Then, his friend’s gaze darted to him. “It was twice, right?”
“Fuck off, Cross.”
Cross shrugged. “Listen, I don’t like to get into my sister’s personal business. As a rule, I let her do whatever the fuck she wants. She brings me into her shit enough as it is, and I don’t like that, but I deal with it.”
“Does that mean you know why she won’t answer a text from me?”
“You’re making it really difficult to like you, Tom.”
“I like Cam, Cross.”
“Well, that was your mistake to make. Camilla’s feeling-phobic. She’s got some kind of commitment issues burrowed so deep, nobody’s digging them out. A guy looks at her too long, and she bolts as fast as she can before the feelings catch and spread. Get it?”
“I think you’re being—”
“I’m really not overstating it,” Cross interjected. “She’s never had a boyfriend, Tom. Not once. Not in school. She took her best friend to prom. She’s never taken someone home to meet our parents. The girl just doesn’t do relationships. I told you that from the start—this is on you, really.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Still not news, Tom.” Cross waved at the comfortable reclining chair beside the couch. “Take a seat, man.”
He fell into the chair, but the tension in his muscles didn’t relax. He felt like a bag of fucking rocks. Hard and uncomfortable. Painful.
Cross was right.
Tom had been warned.
It still kind of fucking stung that Camilla wouldn’t even tell him to screw off somewhere. At least that was closure to everything. This was … something else entirely.
He didn’t like it at all.
Cross sat up straight on the couch, and used the coffee table to hook his Doc Marten boots one over the other at the ankles. The two friends had a staring contest with the blank screen of the television before Cross spoke up first.
“What is it, man, lovesick or pussy whipped?”
Tom rolled his eyes upward. “It has to be one of those two? It can’t be something else entirely?”
“Is it?”
“I don’t really know her, Cross. I know enough to know I would like to know more.”
“That’s a lot of knows in one sentence, man.”
He ignored Cross’s joke, and considered his own words.
“Maybe it’s a mixture of everything,” he said after a stretch of silence.
Tom didn’t even know himself, and he felt like a foolish fucker for even admitting it silently. Damn, though, there was something about Camilla that just got under his skin in the best way—the right way to make him take notice.
Females were females. Tom had never found one interesting enough to really make him want to get to know her beyond a physical or shallow relationship.
Camilla did that.
She did it with demure eyes, sex on her tongue, and a killer smile. She sealed it with quick wit, a filthy mind, and one of her winks.
She barely had to try.
This wasn’t fucking fair.
“So you think you’re love sick, pussy whipped, and confused?” Cross asked. “Because that mess makes me confused.”
“I’m about to sound like a fool.”
Cross cocked a brow. “Do I get the option of leaving before you do? I’ve never met a guy who went a round or two with my sister, and then suddenly grew a fucking vagina. Really not interested in meeting one now.”
“No, you can’t leave. I need advice. Who better than her brother?”
“You haven’t met August, have you? I can introduce you two. It is August’s only mission to get Camilla in a relationship. My sister just doesn’t know it, yet.”
“You said Camilla’s got a thing for girls, too. Is August someone she—”
“No,” Cross interrupted firmly.
All right.
Tom moved on. “You gonna let me talk this out, or not?”
“You have heard the whole saying about it being better to keep your mouth closed, and let people think you’re a fool, than to open it and prove it, right?”
“Do you think you can love a person just by meeting them? Maybe it gets dirtied by distractions or whatever. It’s just … fuck, like you could love them if you had the chance. That’s lovesick for you.”
“Yeah, I do think that’s possible.”
Cross said nothing else.
Tom looked over at him. “Why?”
“Just know it is, man. For some people, that’s how it happens. You meet her, and there she is. No one else is ever going to be that girl for you. Some people meet theirs at fourteen years old, and fuck the rest of their life for anything that might come close after she’s gone. So yeah, it’s possible.”
The tone Cross offered allowed no room for questioning. His friend was so private where women and relationships were concerned, that Tom knew better than to press for something more. Cross wouldn’t answer, anyway. Just who he was.
“Cam likes you,” Cross said.
“Likes something about me—usually without clothes on.”
A disgusted grunt echoed from the couch.
“No, I mean, my sister likes you, Tom.”
“How do you know that?”
“Here’s the thing, man. I’m never going to betray my sister by talking about the things she tells me. Me and Cam … you have to understand, someday, we might be all we have left. That’s the nature of being who we are, with a family like ours. She’s never felt like she couldn’t come to me—there is nothing she couldn’t feel safe to bring to me, and I won’t ruin that for her. Everybody needs somebody they can fall back on, and I’m one of those people for Cam.”
Tom cleared his throat. “Yeah, I get that.”
“I like you, though, and you’re my friend. So, I’ll let you in on something else where my sister is concerned. If you were any other stupid fucker with a hard nut for Cam, I’d laugh while my sister broke your heart all over New York. Actually, I’d probably help her get you out of the state.”
“You’re kind of horrible.”
Cross shrugged, but agreed. “But hey, she does like you, and I think you have to understand Camilla, that’s all.”
“Understand her how?” Tom asked.
“Her, Tom. Just her. How she is, you know? Respect the walls she’s put up, and how she chooses to do her thing. She’s got enough people who keep trying to put their wants and opinions on her life, instead of letting her figure it out on her own.”
Tom kind of understood what Cross was trying to tell him, but he wasn’t sure where that left him with Camilla.
She didn’t do relationships. She didn’t do anything that might suggest a relationship. The littlest thing might send her bolting fast enough away from him that he wouldn’t ever be able to catch her.
Tom didn’t want to risk that happening. Not when something as wonderful as Camilla was the prize.
“So … I go home, then,” Tom said.
Cross looked over at him. “You kind of have to anyway, don’t you?”
“No, I mean … I go home because there, I’m not here. I’m not forcing her to keep a distance, or making her overthink. I’m not pushing anything on her there, or asking her for more than she is giving. We’re not playing some cat and mouse game. She’s got the idea of space, and I’ve got—”
“Not a whole hell of a lot.”
A damn chance.
“A new friend,” Tom said, grinning.
Cross chuckled. “Keep working that reverse psychology, man.”
“Not working anything, but if that’s what she wants, you know?”
“Always give them what they want, yeah.”
Exactly.
“Tommaso.”
“Hey, Ma.”
“Pretty sure your plane was supposed to land this morning.”
Tom kept half of his concentration on his mother, and the other half on the paperwork he was signing. “Something came up. I’ll be home in a few days.”
“In time for supper?”
“Depends on what you’re cooking.”
“I think I could pull out some pork chops for your spoiled self.”
“You know me too well, Ma.”
Abriella laughed. “You’ve been gone three weeks, Tommaso. I was looking forward to having you home again.”
“I’m on my way, Ma. I promise.”
“Better be.” Then, his mother moved the phone away with a sigh. “Fine, Tommas. Take my only phone call with my son away.”
“I’m not—”
“Oh, here.”
Tom’s father came on the line with a chuckle. “She’s pissed at me, now.”
“I bet.”
“You should have called her more while you were away. She frets, and then I’m left dealing with it.”
“I’m a grown man; I can handle myself, Dad.”
“Mmhmm,” Tommas hummed.
He didn’t sound like he meant it at all.
Tom handed the paperwork for a rented Bugatti supercar over to the dealer. He had just shelled out far more money than he wanted to admit just to have the car for the day he would be leaving the city. They didn’t have the car on hand at the moment, and would need to get it out of safe storage. That was going to take a couple of days.
It was worth it.
She’ll like it.
Fast cars were a thing for Camilla, apparently. Tom had not forgotten what her father told him.
“Are you still there, son?”
“Yeah, just finishing up some business here.” The final paperwork was handed over with a nod from the man behind the desk. “Thanks.”
“Drive safe, sir.”
Tom was already leaving the office with a wave over his shoulder.
“What business?” his father asked. “It sounded like a car deal.”
“It’s nothing. Spending money. That’s all.”
“You are coming home soon, aren’t you?”
“Like I told Ma, I’ll be there in a couple of days as something came up I want to do.”
“Good. It’s time for you to get back to life, Tom. Here, I mean. Adriano’s been having nothing but problems with the crew since you took off, and he could really use your help to settle the guys again.”
Tom scowled as he exited the business. His rented Mercedes was still waiting at the curb, and running. A man stood beside it, and waited for him to hand the car back over now that he was done inside. At the moment, he was more interested in the conversation with his father than the car.
“What problems?” Tom asked. “Because I’ve called Adriano every couple of days just to check in and make sure nothing came up that he needed me for. He didn’t mention shit about issues with the crew, Dad.”
“It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, Tom.”
“And now he can’t handle it, or what?”
“More like he doesn’t want to. That’s his right as the—”
“First Capo of the crew. Yeah, I know.”
He didn’t need that damn lecture again. He was all too aware that being the secondary Capo for the Conti crew of the Chicago Outfit left him doing the dirty work Adriano didn’t want to do. It meant he got the difficult guys, the harder jobs, and the cleanup.
Most times, Tom didn’t mind. He had learned over the years that this was his road to travel in order to get where he needed and wanted to be in the business. He intended to be a boss. His father was determined to make sure Tom worked every fucking level in the family business that he possibly could before he came anywhere near the top.
“How was your break, by the way?” his father asked.
“We’re just dropping the crew conversation, then?”
“For now. Answer me.”
“It was … good.”
“Good. That’s all?”
“Interesting, Dad.”
Tommas laughed quietly. “I will have to take your word for it. I never found New York to be particularly inviting to me—for your uncle, Damian, or his kids, sure. Never for me.”
Sometimes, bad blood was impossible to wash out. Or, that’s what his father always told him where the New York families were concerned. Well, one family in particular. The Marcellos. It wasn’t really open for discussion between him and his father, but Tom knew the rules. For now, the Chicago Outfit bended to the demands of the Marcello family because they had control of New York, and the Commission made up of North American crime families.
“Did you find what you needed, or figure out how to deal with the issues back here?” Tommas asked his son.
“Figured out it feels a hell of a lot better to crush their face with my fist than it does to ignore them, and I get a better reaction out of it.” Tom nodded to the man who held open the Mercedes’s driver door, and slipped into the car. The engine purred under his handling. “But you always told me not to handle every disobedient man with violence because it only teaches fear, and—”
“Not respect.”
“Yeah, so I guess no, I haven’t gotten very much figured out. I’m more relaxed, though.”
“Some men need a harsh hand, Tommaso, and some only need a harsh word. You will figure out which man is which. That is how you’ll win this war.”
“How do I figure out which is which, Dad?”
“By paying attention. Some men are like vicious dogs, and the only way to deal with them is to put them down. Others are just loud, disruptive, and intimidating, but they know how and when to step back with the right motivation. Figure out which men fall into which category, son. Also, I sincerely hope you’ve put this gunrunning nonsense to bed, Tommaso.”
And just like that, Tom’s irritation was back in a blink. “Not really, actually.”
“Shame.”
His father hung up the call without a goodbye.
Right then, Tom didn’t mind.
His mind was on someone else …
Tom leaned against the hood of the Mercedes as people filtered through the parking lot. Beside the car, Camilla’s Mustang GT sat parked and waiting for her. It was the only help Cross was willing to give Tom where Camilla was concerned. Her location, and when he could find her there.
So, here he was, at Rory Meyers College.
Waiting.
“Two questions.”
Tom’s head lifted at Camilla’s sweet voice. He found her standing twenty feet away with a messenger bag slung over her arm, and wearing navy blue scrubs with the school’s emblem on the right breast pocket. Even in scrubs and plain white shoes, with her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, and her face free of makeup, the girl looked good.
Amazing, really.
He smiled. “What’s your questions?”
“Is that Mercedes a rental or yours? I didn’t see you driving something before.”
“It’s a rental. I just traded it in for something else, but I have to wait a couple of days for it.”
“And that something else is …?”
“You only said two questions, Cam.”
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Okay, second question, then. Why are you at my college?”
“Just thought I should say goodbye before I head out of state in a couple of days, that’s all.”
He didn’t miss the way her lips pouted or her shoulders dropped. She hid it quickly enough, sure, but it still happened.
“Well, have a good flight, I guess,” Camilla said.
Tom tipped his head toward the car. “I’m not heading out of state for a couple of days. Just thought you would like to know when and all.”
Camilla abused her bottom lip with her teeth, and fiddled with the strap on her bag before saying, “I figured not answering your last couple of texts after Luna Park would have given you the hint that I’m not interested in anything beyond what we already did, Tom. We hooked up a couple of times, that’s it.”
“Had you answered my messages, you would have figured out I just wanted to meet up before I headed out of state. Say goodbye. Like friends do.”
Her gaze darted away from his. “Friends, huh?”
“Sure.”
“I don’t fuck my friends, Tom.”
“Well, we’re definitely not anything else, right?”
Camilla cleared her throat. “Friends, then.”
He brought out a package from behind his back, and Camilla’s smile grew at the sight of what he held in his hand.
A small cupcake with one single candle on the top.
“Someone might have let me know it’s your birthday today, but you didn’t want to do anything for it because—”
“I was in classes all day,” she interjected with a wave at the school behind her.
“Understandable. You must be studying nursing, right?”
“The end goal is to be a NICU nurse,” Camilla admitted.
“I didn’t know that, but it seems like it would fit your personality.”
“You think you know my personality?”
“You’ve given me some peeks at it despite the fact you tried to blow me off,” he replied.
She shot him an apologetic look. “Except here you are.”
Tom flashed a grin and held the cupcake out for her. “With cake. Happy birthday, Camilla.”
She came close enough to take the cupcake, and looked it over. “I’m really not looking for a relationship, Tom. That’s why I blew you off, okay? Not because you’re just good for a fuck, or anything else. I don’t want to get involved with someone like that.”
“I’m not asking for a relationship, Cam.”
“No?”
He shook his head.
“Just a friend.”
She smiled. “A friend, then.”
“Eat your cake. All queens should have their cake, Cam.”
She did.
He took the whole day as a battle won.