***
The rest of the afternoon was a blur as various customers filled up the small shop. Nate left about an hour after our conversation, which I didn't blame him a bit for. He deserved a real woman, someone who had the courage to invite him out or sit in his lap, or something hot and uncouth.
After cleaning up, I headed home for a quick shower and changed into a cream-colored dress for my sister-in-law’s birthday party. My brother could sit on something and rotate. I wasn't getting Denise diamonds of any sort. I wasn't getting her anything. She was a grown-ass woman with a billionaire husband. If she didn't have it already, he could buy it.
I'd stopped accepting money from my family years before, much to my parents’ aggravation. Why no one could understand that I wanted to be independent and proud of making my own way in the world was beyond me.
I pulled up to the oversized mansion by the bay and nodded at the valet who opened the door.
"Evening, Miss Jenna. How are you?" The middle-aged man nodded. I could never remember anyone's name seeing that my mother replaced staff like she did her shoes - often.
"I'm great. How are you?" I ran my fingers through my shoulder-length hair and pushed it over my shoulder.
"Excellent. Enjoy your evening." He got into my Toyota as I walked toward the house. A couple of deep breaths later, I was walking toward the sound of my family, laughing over something in the kitchen.
"And then Denise told them to try again. She could still hear the cow mooing." My brother laughed loudly, and everyone standing around him did as well. His bombshell blond wife was tucked against his side, her smile as fake as her breasts.
My father turned toward me and smiled. "There's my little girl. How are you?"
Everyone said their hellos, and I walked around and gave out hugs, hating every second of it. Denise squeezed me before moving back and gripping my shoulders.
"Darek tells me that you work down at De Luca. I love that place." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
I still wanted to know where my brother found someone like her. She was plastic. Fake. Cold. A complete lie.
"Yeah, but keep it to yourself. I'm happy living my little undercover life." I pulled back from her hold and moved over to pour myself a glass of wine.
My brother snorted and went into another story, this one about me being independent and failing at it during my freshman year. My twin sister stood to Darek's left, wrapped around a thin Asian guy I'd never met. My father and a few of his friends were in the circle, but my mother wasn't.
"Where's Mom?" I turned toward Kayla. She looked enough like me that it was obvious that we were sisters, but no one would ever guess twins.
"No clue. Go find her." She smiled. "You like finding things. Strays, adventure, yourself."
"You have something in your teeth. Big and green." I pointed to my mouth and smirked. Bitch.
The house was quiet as I walked through the long hallway that led toward my father's office. The bottles of brandy he kept hidden in his cabinet were calling me. It was the only thing strong enough that I wouldn't get sick on. I needed something to help me make it through the night.
I poured myself a quick glass and walked over to the small circular table in the middle of the room. Pictures were spread out of the Bertinelli family. I picked up an 8x10 of Erik, the best hitman in all of the United States. The son of the great Lucian Bertinelli. The family was one of the last remaining syndicates of old.
"How are you still roaming the streets?" I smiled and let my eyes move across Erik. He was beautiful, evil, delicious. Dark hair and eyes that said he would fuck you up without blinking twice stared back at me. "Too dangerous."
I liked the idea of getting involved with a bad boy, but Erik was a bit much. He seemed like the kind of guy that would fuck you and gut you in the same evening if he felt up to it. Nate looked the part, but something told me he wasn't at all the evil bastard some of my fantasies had forged him to be.
"Jenna?"
I turned at the sound of my father's voice and lifted my glass. "Just giving a toast to the Bertinelli family."
He chuckled and walked in to wrap me in a warm hug from behind. "And why would you do that? That young man right there is the reason I have so many gray hairs."
"No, Mom is the reason you have gray hair. Erik and his family are the reason you have food in the cabinets and a big house in the hills." I leaned against him, grateful that one member of my family felt real, true, right.
"This is true." He kissed the top of my head. "Promise me that you'll never get involved with an asshole like him? Find you a good man who makes his living being a good and decent citizen."
I pulled away from him and turned, smiling. "Can he look like a bad boy?"
My father rolled his eyes. "No, and you know why."
"Because most who look the part-"
"Are the part." He reached out and pinched my chin softly. "My little girl deserves the best in life."
"Define best." I smirked. It was our favorite discussion since I was a teenager. Best was relative, as was love, looks, and riches.
In my world, it was all a lie. In my father’s, it was the truth.