Just a name connected to the family I loathe.
But seeing herhere, in my favorite restaurant, makes her existence all the more real.
That feeling in my chest stirs again—the same one I felt a flicker of last night—and I can’t help but bring my fist up to my sternum and rub it with my knuckles to dull the ache.
Sparing another glance, I take her in. The light pink sweater she wears. The movement of her thumb along the stem of her wine glass. The way she gives her friends her full attention and listens intently.
Last night, I convinced myself it was the party—the seduction of a masquerade—that had my pulse racing and my curiosity piqued, but now I’m not so sure. Her words echo through my mind,“It has nothing to do with me.”
And maybe it doesn’t. We were both just children, after all. But still, it does not change the fact that she’s aPaladino.
Looking away, I take another bite of my dinner andchange the subject with Enzo. “How is Leah? You haven’t mentioned her lately.”
“Out of the picture. When the elevator security system catches the woman you’re dating on the phone boasting about how much money you have, it’s time to pull the plug.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, and I mean it. My cousin has been lonely for a long time. A nice woman would suit him, but instead he attracts the ones who care about his money more than his heart.
He chews his food and as he does, like a magnet, my eyes find their way to Vinnie again. She’s laughing, cradling a glass of white wine in her hand as she leans forward, engaged in her conversation.
What is it about her that I can’t seem to ignore? She is quite literally the last person on earth I should have a fascination toward. Gritting my teeth, I pull my gaze and use my fork to move my spaghetti around the plate.
“I’m not.” Enzo brings my attention to him again. “What about you? Meet anyone while abroad?” He takes another bite.
I sneak a look back over his shoulder at Vinnie.No, but it seems as though I’ve met someone here who’s unfortunately piqued my interest.
“No. A few enjoyable flings, but nothing serious. Sully fell in love every other weekend, however.”
This makes Enzo laugh, and his laughter makes me smile. His face brightens when he is happy, and I realize how much I miss the more carefree side of him. “Ofcourse he did. The guy still hasn’t learned the difference between his heart and his dick yet.”
“One day he will. It will take the right woman to sneak up on him.”
A comfortable silence settles between us as we finish our meals, and I take the opportunity to continue sneaking glances over his shoulder at Vinnie. She hasn’t noticed me yet, and I hope to keep it that way.
The women finish off their drinks and pay their bill, and as they stand to leave, a busboy takes his cue, hurrying over to remove their empty plates from the table.
For some reason unbeknownst to me, my heart rate quickens while watching Vinnie shrug on her cream-colored shawl, her hand sweeping beneath her hair to free it from where the fabric covers her shoulders.
The urge to stand and go to her claws at me.
I want to know she’s okay—that her brother didn’t further harass her last night. Her smile tells me she is, but I know all too well how easy it is to mask your pain.
Reaching to the chair next to her, she grabs her handbag and settles it on her forearm, turning back to the blonde woman to say something. As she does, she scans the room and it takes mere seconds for her gaze to connect with mine. Her eyes widen as her pink-painted lips part in surprise.
Satisfaction slips through me at her reaction. Still, I school my expression, making sure my features stay neutral so she doesn’t see the amusement I’m feeling.
In return, she glares at me. It’s difficult to imagine what she might be thinking.
I simply smirk.
With the least remarkable timing, the waiter reappears with our check, breaking my focus as I reach for it. When I look back up, Vinnie is already gone.
Opening the check-sleeve, I skim the total as I pull out my card and hand everything back to the waiter.
Enzo and I stopped arguing over who would be the one to pay many years ago. We now hold an unspoken agreement that whoever reaches for the bill first takes care of it.
“Thanks,” he says, dabbing at his mouth with his napkin before placing it back down.
Nodding my head, I remove my own napkin from my lap and place it onto the table. Pushing backward in my chair, I stand, ready to leave. “Anytime, cousin.”