Chapter Thirty-Two
Forgiveness is an act of
the will, and the will can
function regardless of the
temperature of the heart.
Corrie ten Boom
I fidget in my seat at my table in the banquet hall, remembering the odd looks Niccolaio sent my way during the wedding, which is just about the worst occasion to be sending a girl looks like that.
Gone was his usual blank mask and in its place was a distinct look of wonder. He tried to hide it, but I saw it, lurking beneath the depths of his eyes as he studied me when he thought I didn’t notice.
But the problem is I did notice. I notice everything about him. I’ve been trying to chalk it up to lust, so I can dismiss it as nothing more than a meaningless crush, but I don’t think that’s what this is.
At least, I can’t reduce it to lust when my heart pounds at the thought of him and I feel my throat swelling in so much feeling when I think of all he’s done for me. Like going out of his way to call in favors with Asher, so I can talk to Mina every single day. And making Mina laugh whenever he’s there while I’m video chatting with her. And being someone I can talk to about my past—and present—without feeling judged by every wrong (and right) decision I’ve ever made. And giving me a place to stay when we both know he doesn’t need to do this, since I’m not going to go blabbing my mouth about him.
I sigh, swirling my soda in my glass as I watch him talk to the mayor across the banquet hall. Yeah, the mayor. And earlier, I think I saw Beyoncé and her daughter running around this place. I shouldn’t be surprised that Asher knows all of these people or that Niccolaio is so casually talking to them, but I am.
In his hand is a glass of tea, filled a third of the way. Earlier, he asked a waiter for a glass of whiskey, poured it into one of the nearby plants, and refilled the whiskey glass with some tea from the table’s pitcher. Sly Devil.
“Having fun?” a voice asks from beside me, causing me to jump.
The Sprite in my hand splashes outside of the cup from the movement. Asher hands me a napkin, and I hastily wipe the spilled liquid off of my hand.
“I didn’t hear you sit,” I say the obvious.
I wonder if Asher taught Niccolaio that or Niccolaio taught Asher that. Or maybe these mafia men are just born with the inherent knowledge of how to sneak up on people and scare the living daylights out of them. Seriously… How do you sit down beside someone so quietly that they don’t hear?
Asher shrugs, smirking a little as he glances at Lucy on the dance floor with Aimee. “Are you having fun?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t lie. It’s unbecoming.”
I sigh. “Fine, but it’s not like I’m not having fun. I’m just… This is weird.”
“What is?”
“I mean, thank you for donating the tablets. That means the world to me. But… You hate me. Lucy hates me. Aimee hates me.”
He studies me before relenting, “I donated the tablets because I wanted to, not because of Nick or you. I did it for the kids.” His words remind me of an article I read on his philanthropy for underprivileged children, and I suppose it makes sense with his background. “And I don’t hate you,” he continues. “No one does.”
“I haven’t forgotten what you said to me at Carmen’s Cantina.”
I know your type. You’re not at Wilton for a degree. You’re there to find someone to marry. Some rich sucker you can leech off of for the rest of your parasitic life. Come near Lucy again, and I’ll blackball you so fast, no man in the city will dare touch you with a ten foot pole. You clearly know who I am. You know I’ll do it.
Yet, here I am, sitting in the same room as Lucy, at her wedding no less, and I haven’t been black balled. But that doesn’t lessen the lacerating sting of the words as I remember them. Mostly because he was right about everything except for the Wilton part. I am parasitic. I am looking for a rich sucker I can leech off of for the rest of my life. Well, for as long as I think Mina needs me to.
“It’s pretty cowardly to hold a grudge.”
“Are you calling me a coward?”
“Well, you’re not exactly acting brave.”
When he smiles, I realize he’s joking, and that surprises me more than it would if I learned he wasn’t joking.
After a minute of silence, Asher shrugs carelessly and mocks my earlier words, “I haven’t forgotten what you’ve done to Lucy.”
I frown, remembering how awful I was to her. “Are we enemies, Asher?”
“No.”
It’s stupid, but I ask, “Why not?”
“You’ve been horrendous to deal with, yeah. But part of what you’ve done was give her a safe place to stay when she was in danger. When it counted the most. I haven’t forgotten that, and I won’t ever forget that.”
I lean back. “But I’ve been so mean to her.”
“You haven’t since, and I don’t think you will again.” He looks me in the eye. “It seems like the only person who’s finding it difficult to forgive you is you.”
And with that, he’s gone.
He’s just as irritating as Lucy.
Shortly after Asher leaves, Aimee and Lucy join me, but this time I’m not surprised—I could hear their raucous laughter from across the room.
Aimee gives Lucy a dubious glance. “We like her now?”
Lucy elbows her in the stomach and turns to me. “Thank you for coming.”
“No problem,” I say, and I mean it. “I’m glad I came.”
And I am. I needed to hear from Asher, from anyone, that I’m forgiven for my past. Lately, as I’ve started to question whether or not my choices have been good ones, I’ve also abhorred my inability to reign in the ugliness of my emotions and how I’ve treated others.
I needed to hear that I’m not beyond redemption.
Aimee breaks the surprisingly comfortable silence that stretches out, “Hey, Loosey Goosey?”
“Yeah?”
“No one shot you down today.”
Lucy smiles. “I haven’t been poisoned either.”
Aimee snorts, and I give them polite smiles that hide the What in the firetruck? I’m thinking in my head. I have to remind myself that I reevaluated my opinions on Lucy after our last talk in Vaserley Hall.
I mean, I still think she’s crazy… but now I understand why. She’s a fifty year old woman trapped in a twenty year old’s body, and all that age old wisdom crammed into that youth has turned her insane.
I’m not sure what Aimee’s excuse is.
“So, Nick, huh?” Lucy asks me.
I look at him, talking at the edge of the dance floor with Asher. He has a smile on his face that I haven’t seen on him with anyone other than me. And while I’d love for it to be reserved for me, I’m glad he has Asher. They seem good for each other.
Around the dance floor, men avert their eyes from Asher and Niccolaio. I saw it in the tunnels, too. The guy who led us through them couldn’t even meet Niccolaio’s eyes. And when we made our way through the pews in the church, people backed far away from us, some of them even noticeably cowering.
And I realized that Niccolaio is an intimidating man.
So why have I never felt that about him?
As if he knows I’m thinking about him, Niccolaio’s eyes meet mine, and I’m ensnared by them.
On the other side of Lucy, Aimee loudly whisper shouts into Lucy’s ear for all of us to hear, “Fuck, they should just sleep together and get it over with.”
Abruptly, I feel several pairs of eyes from the surrounding tables turn to me. Lucy is quick to jab Aimee roughly with her elbow (again).
“What the fuck?” Aimee asks defensively, rubbing her rib cage with a look of surprise on her face.
“We’re in a church.”
Well, we’re in a banquet hall built into the back of the church, but still…
Aimee’s eyes widen. “Shit, I forgot.” Her face half somber and half apologetic, she corrects herself, “Holy fuck, they should just sleep together and get it over with.”
Lucy groans and rubs at her forehead, giving up on Aimee. Instead, she sends me an apologetic look, which I shrug to. As long as Niccolaio didn’t hear that, I’m not too mortified. I steal another glance at the man in question and am surprised to see him making his way towards me.
Around me, I hear the girls quickly reacting, and I wonder if they’d be reacting the same way if he was uglier or if they’d cower away from Niccolaio like all of their male counterparts seem to do.
“Care to dance?” he asks me when he reaches me.
I nod, saying my goodbyes to Lucy and Aimee. He leads me to the dance floor, holding my hand tightly in his. People naturally part for him, for some reason repelled by him when all I seem to be able to do is get closer.
When he pulls me closer, I inhale his seductive scent. I can feel his laughter against my chest, but I don’t care. I’m not even embarrassed by my reaction. I’m resigned to the fact that I’ll always react this way to this man.
“Did you just sniff me?”
“Yes,” I mumble into his suit jacket.
“I think it’s only fair if I do the same.”
He leans into my neck before I can prepare myself for it, and I tense, my skin erupting into a million goosebumps as he trails his lips against the curve of neck. I can feel my nipples pebbling against my dress, unhindered by a bra, and I push myself closer to hide them from the crowd. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.
When his mouth reaches the space below my ear, he takes me by surprise by lowering my body into a dip, twirling us into a half circle at the same time he raises me back up. A genuine smile spreads across my lips
“You should smile like that more often.”
“You should dance with me more often.”
“Okay.”
“Wait. What?”
“Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” I ask, as he leads us to the tunnels, barely pausing to send a boyish head nod Asher’s way.
“I’m taking you on a date, Minka Reynolds.”
I’ve never been on a date.