"You ready for this, champ?" Allister asked Dante as the limousine pulled up curbside at the waterfront hotel.
Allister had insisted on riding in style even though Dante had argued against it. I was glad that Allie was making a big deal of the night. Win or no win, Dante deserved to be recognized for his accomplishments.
Dante set his glass of champagne down and smiled. "As ready as I'll ever be."
After we had hopped out of the limo, Dante gestured us into the spacious lobby. The marble floors sparkled and the stylish interior hosted countless people milling around with cocktails. Several stopped talking and watched as we walked by.
I couldn't blame them. Dante's tuxedo fit him like a second skin, and my slinky, black cocktail dress fell a touch too short. Allister's hip, red pantsuit highlighted her trim torso and long legs. We were one fine-looking trio.
As we neared the entrance to the Grand Pacific Ballroom, a hulking man waved to Dante.
"I can't believe my eyes. The Demon has entered the building." The man jogged over with the graceful lope of a professional athlete.
"Logan, my man. I haven't seen you in years. How are you?"
Allister bristled beside me while Dante and Logan shook hands. The man was attractive with a square jaw, aristocratic nose and chocolate-brown eyes. His tuxedo had to have been custom-tailored, because he was huge.
"What are you doing here?" Dante asked, grinning from ear to ear.
"I'm the keynote speaker. The writer from the Oracle was nominated for that article he wrote about me. The good one. Unlike the drivel the Tribune keeps putting out."
Allister snorted and then hid behind her wine glass when Logan glanced her direction. He didn't even try to disguise the fact he was checking her out, his eyes wandering from the tips of her sandy-colored hair to the tips of her red toenails.
"What about you?" he asked Dante, his eyes lingering on Allie.
"I was nominated for Sports Writer of the Year."
"That is fantastic. I wish you were still playing ball, though. We could use someone like you on the field."
Dante's smile faltered for mere seconds before it was back in place. "I miss it too. But I love it at the Tribune. My boss is great."
"Speaking of your boss... what the fuck is up with him? Sorry, ladies," he said with an impish smile that almost made me giggle. Heat radiated off of Allister and Dante reached a hand out, but Logan didn't notice. "He's a real asshole. I mean, who does he think he is, running all that negative shit on me? It's not even true. My publicist has been riding my ass for months because of him."
Dante gestured to Allie. "Logan, please let me introduce you to Allister McCain. She is my boss."
Allie stood up straighter and gave Logan a withering smile. He blinked several times while his jaw ticked in time with Allister's tapping toe. "Oh, hell. Well, there I go putting my shoe square plumb in my mouth. It's so nice to meet you, Ms. McCain."
Logan grabbed Allister's hand, dropping a soft kiss on the back of her hand, like the perfect Southern gentleman.
"Drop the act," she hissed, pulling her hand away. "And it's Mrs. McCain."
Logan glanced behind us, like Allie's dead husband might appear. "You're married?"
"Widowed," Allie corrected.
"I'm sorry to hear that. No hard feelings, ma'am. I thought Allister was a man's name."
"Don't call me 'ma'am.'" Allister chugged back the rest of her wine and handed the empty glass to Dante. She rolled her shoulders back like a boxer readying for a fight.
"Where I come from, that's a way of showing respect."
"Yeah, well, where I come from, it's worse than calling a woman a fucking old lady."
Logan's lips twitched. "Wow. That is one mouth you got on you, honey. Would you mind telling me why you've been busting my balls?"
"Hey, let's not get into this here," Dante interjected.
Allie took a step forward and placed her hand on Dante's forearm. "No. I've got this. Why don't you two go find our table?" If it had been any other woman, I would never have left, but Allie could handle herself. I was more afraid for Logan.
With a sigh, Dante led me away with a hand on my lower back. "Jesus, that's a train wreck waiting to happen," Dante murmured.
I glanced over my shoulder and giggled when I saw Allister poke a bemused Logan in the chest. "I'd put my money on Allister."
"Every day of the week," Dante said, before coming to a sudden stop. "Speaking of train wrecks..."
I followed his gaze across the room. An older woman in an unflattering tube-top dress lounged against the bar chatting up the bartender. It wasn't until we drew closer that I realized who it was.
"Is that your mother?"
"Yes," he gritted.
"What is she doing here?"
"Fuck if I know." He scrubbed a hand down his face. "Darius must have told her. God, I wish she would learn to stay out of my life."
I'd only met Ida once, at Dante and Damian's college graduation. With pronounced scowl lines and a sallow complexion, it was evident the last few years had not been kind. Her dress looked about two sizes too small and it was obvious from the way she wobbled that she was already drunk.
"Dante," she yelled out when she saw us approach. Her outburst drew more than a few people's gazes.
"Ma, what are you doing here?"
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm having a drink with my new friend." Ida gestured to the bartender, who looked like he wanted to melt into the carpet.
Dante took her by the elbow and guided her into a deserted hallway, away from the growing crowd of onlookers.
"You shouldn't be here. You need to leave."
She yanked her arm away and teetered back one step. "What's that supposed to mean? I'm your mother. I should be here to support you."
"You're drunk."
Ida ignored his statement and turned to me. "How are you, Erica? Haven't you grown into a beautiful young woman. A little skinny for my taste, but it's no wonder Dante hasn't bothered to call me in weeks. He must be too busy screwing you."
"Ma..." Dante hissed, taking a menacing step closer.
"Hello, Ida. It's so nice to see you again," I replied, extending my hand. She looked at my hand, but didn't take it.
"Why didn't you tell me you won an award?" she asked, returning her attention to Dante.
"I haven't won the award yet."
"I should know these things. Why do you insist on keeping me in the dark about your life? You never call me or your brothers no more. We not good enough for you?"
"I refuse to have this conversation right now," Dante said, hands clenched into fists at his side.
"Ida, why don't we go for a walk, sober up a little before the ceremony starts?" I asked. This was supposed to be Dante's special night and his mother was on the verge of ruining it.
Her lips curled up into a snarl. "I don't need to go for a walk."
"Then where are you staying? Let me take you there." I placed my hand on her arm, hoping she would follow me.
Before I realized her intention, she cocked her arm back and slapped me straight across the face. Pain exploded in my jaw and I clutched my cheek, too shocked to do anything else.
"Jesus, Ma, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Dante yelled. He reached out to me, but then stopped when he saw the trickle of blood run down my chin. He whipped around and stalked toward his mother.
"Please, Dante. Let's just go," I pleaded, grabbing his arm.
"This is why I don't tell you anything about my life. I don't want you in it. You ruin everything. I'm done with you, Ma. I'm done."
Whatever Ida saw must have scared her, because she grabbed at Dante and started to beg. "Please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit her. I've had too much to drink. I love you. Please, don't do this."
He pushed out of her clinging arms. "I will not let you ruin this for me. Erica is one of the only good people in my life."
"How can you say that? I'm the one who carried you for nine months and put food on the table. I was always there for you when you needed me."
"You were always there for me? What about when your boyfriends were beating the shit out of me while my little brothers watched? Where were you then? Oh, that's right, in the other room so hammered out of your mind you couldn't see straight."
Ida staggered closer. Tears streamed down her face, carrying her black mascara with it. "I'm sorry, baby. Please, don't do this."
Dante shook his head and pushed her hands away when she tried to hug him. "Don't worry, Ma. I'll still send you money. I know that's what you're really worried about."
He spun on his heels, leaving his mother to gape after him.
"She'll never love you the way I do," Ida yelled down the wide hallway. "One day she's gonna wake up and realize you ain't good enough for her. Don't come crawling back when she does."
Dante's steps faltered, but he didn't turn around. He gripped my elbow and kept walking.