Benjamin and Quinn don’t spend a lot of time on business. It feels like this meeting is a preamble for something later. The conversation is light and sparse, a heavy feeling of tension hanging over the table. Or at least I feel it. Presumably, for Benjamin, it’s about last night and Tony’s death.
“Gentleman, we’re going to head to the bar, give you both some time to talk business.” I excuse us, pick up Emily’s arm and lead her to the bar area in the centre of the restaurant. The heat of Benjamin’s eyes sears me as I walk away, and I can’t help but look over my shoulder to see if it’s only Benjamin’s eyes on me.
“What would you like, Emily?” I ask as we find two bar stools available.
“Anything but Champagne. My tolerance is rather poor, unfortunately.”
I order two espresso Martini’s and turn to face my new friend.
“Have you managed to get out and take some photos yet?” My question will help to understand just how alone she is in the city, and if Quinn is as smitten with her as he should be.
“Yes. Central Park is glorious. It reminds me of Hyde Park in a way. Have you been to England?”
“No. I haven’t been fortunate enough to travel all that much.”
“How long have you been with Benjamin?”
It sounds odd to hear someone else refer to him by his first name. Everyone around him calls him Vico. “Three years now. Some days it seems much longer.” I scoff, surprised at the melancholy that’s overridden me.
“It can be hard, being the partner of a men like Benjamin. Or Quinn,” she says. The understanding in her eyes is unnerving.
“So, how did you meet him?” I ask, picking up my drink. “If you don’t mind me saying, you’re not the obvious choice for a man like him.”
“What’s the old saying? Opposites attract. Quinn and I are very well suited underneath everything. I wouldn’t have married him if I hadn’t known we could make it work.”
“You make it sound very simple, Emily.” I sip the creamy cocktail, needing the alcohol to help keep my composure in check.
“Quinn’s life is certainly not simple. It's been far from conventional or pleasant.” She smiles about something, as if remembering a moment I'm not privy to. “I guess I saw past everything he projected to the man beneath. That’s who I fell for. Took a bit of honesty about who he is, but he's not quite the monster he appears to be.” She smiles again, gazing towards both men. “I suppose you must know how that feels.” No. I don't. Benjamin is very much the monster he appears to be, as he proved last night. Still,I watch her clear adoration with confusion filling me until she takes a sip of her cocktail and turns back. “Oh, wow, that’s delicious. Don’t let me drink too many or Quinn will be carrying me out.”
Her giggle is infectious, but it’s her words that have struck me. They've run deeper than I imagined possible and have me thinking further about all the words my mother fed me as a child. So much of my life has been based on my mother’s influence, her poison tongue lecturing me at every given opportunity, blaming me for the life she lived because I was the reason Quinton wasn’t in her life. My eyes flick over to Quinn, still unsure why such a beautiful, innocent woman would be with him. My mother painted the Cane family as having everything that stardom or fame could provide, a life of luxury without the pain we were suffering, but now I'm wondering if she really saw any of that, or if it was just her twisted mind warped by anger.
I take a large gulp of cocktail and try to focus on the tasks in front of me.
“Are you okay, Hope?” Emily’s eyes look so big and innocent, staring at me as if I might break.
“Of course.”
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is everything okay with you and Benjamin? You look a little… tired.” She indicates my face and I know she can see past the makeup covering the worst of the damage.
“I’m fine. I know nothing I’ll say will be able to convince you of that given my appearance, but it’s… how we are. If you can make sense of that.”
“You’d be surprised at how much I understand. I meant what I said the other day. It’s so hard to build friendships. It would be nice to count you as one.”
“Of course.” The smile I give feels false because although the words are real, my intentions are anything but true, and here, sharing a moment with Emily, that feels completely wrong.
“Ladies, enjoying your drinks?” Quinn’s voice drifts to us from his position next to the bar.
“Quinn, this might be my new favourite.” Emily holds up her drained cocktail glass.
“Well, as long as it’s just the one. I know what you and alcohol are like.” He joins his wife, pressing his body against hers as he leans in to kiss her cheek. It’s a simple gesture, usual for any husband and wife, yet it clouds me in more confusion. This man has won the heart of a lovely girl, and he seems so open with her. Honest even. He’s nothing like I imagined he would be when he’s with her.
I peer over my shoulder to see if Benjamin will join us. He’s still at the table, his phone to his ear but his eyes on us. On me. Focused. Hard. Unapologetic. Beautiful still, regardless of his actions last night. But he would never approach me in public like Quinn has done Emily. Not truthfully, anyway. A kiss here. An appropriate hand gesture there. But nothing like these two, nothing so personal. But then, that’s not in our future, is it? Never has been. Unfortunately, for the first time since being with him, I’m realizing that’s something I want in my life. Need even.
My past and future are colliding in front of me and it’s twisting my previous sense of what I wanted. What my goal is. I stare at Benjamin and can’t help but hope there’s a way through this for us.
Eleven
“You make those boys get it done. Kill one of them if needed,” I mutter.
