Sylvester left without a sound. So quiet compared to Keely’s screech.
She slapped the table. “You’re pregnant!”
I smiled and gave her all of the details.
“I’m going to be an aunt!” She lifted her glass, toasting to me, to every chair along the table, pretending like there were people sitting in each one. “That baby is going to be so pretty.” She took a sip of her drink. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
I shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “The thing with Harrison—I didn’t want things to get more awkward. I’ve been…staying away. I don’t want to lose you. And I don’t want to make him feel bad.”
She watched me for a minute before she held my hand. “Things have been different, right? I’ve been giving him time. You, too. But no matter what, you’re my sister till the end.”
I squeezed her hand and we both smiled.
After our dinner came, conversation flowed, as easy as it ever was. This time, though, both of our lives seemed to be moving in the right direction, and it was fun to talk about all of the positive things instead of survival tips. We laughed more than we ever did.
I asked her questions about Broadway. She asked me questions about Capo and the baby.
“Is he excited?”
I shrugged. “Hard to tell. He’s been working a lot.”
She still didn’t know about our arrangement, so it was hard to open up. I couldn’t tell her a version of the truth without giving her the complete truth.
“Hmm.” She took another drink. “You’re not being totally honest. I’ve kept quiet long enough. I know he loves you, Mari, but you’ve been keeping something from me.”
My fork hit the plate with a loud clang! when it fell from my fingers. “He loves me.”
She threw back her head and laughed. “Duh. You goof. He’s your husband. Of course he loves you. At least, I’d hope so. Or why would he marry you? Just for your smoking bod? You have one, but in New York, and with a man as fine as him, bodies are a dime a dozen. There has to be more. Animal attraction. True love. I see and feel both.”
I didn’t want to seem overly excited, so I kept my tone even. “You can?”
“Actions, Mari. Not words. I can tell by his actions. I saw the look on Capo’s face when Harrison confessed his undying love for you in the kitchen. Jealousy is a mean bitch, and she was slapping Capo all around. Then in Italy. The way he’d look at you when you weren’t looking. When you walked down the aisle? I doubt anyone else existed in that moment. I could tell the wait was killing him. One of his gorgeous friends— Rocco?— had to put a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place.” She sighed. “Your first dance. The way he was rubbing your feet under the arbor.”
“You saw that?”
“Yeah. I sent the photographer over to take a picture. I didn’t want you guys to see. It was so...touching.”
“That’s one of my favorite pictures,” I said.
She smiled at me. “I’ve never seen you so happy, Mari. And honestly.” She looked around. “I know it has nothing to do with…all of this. Money seems like the answer to everything when you have none, but when you’ve been hungry for more, for things like passion and love, even security, you find out what you were truly starved for when you get what you never knew you wanted or needed.”
She was right. I couldn’t measure my hunger for love and passion when it had been overshadowed by basic survival. Fear sucked the life out of everything.
Fear of being too cold or too hot.
Fear of being attacked on the streets and having no one to protect you.
Fear of becoming so hungry that’d you resort to digging in the trash.
Fear of dying before truly living.
I took a sip of my water and looked out of the peeper window. My breath caught in my throat. Achille Scarpone sat right next to the mirror, laughing with one of the young guys from the alley. The young guy had a wolf tattoo on his hand, too.
Keely turned to see what I was looking at. “That’s kind of creepy.” She scrunched up her nose. “It’s not as bad as having one in the bathroom, or in a dressing room, but still, I’d hate it if I was eating and someone I didn’t know was watching me without me knowing.”
“You wouldn’t hate it,” I said. “You wouldn’t know.”
“You know what I mean.” She squinted. “Capo has a tattoo like that. Do they know each other? What does it mean?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered, like Achille could hear me. “He’s not a friendly, though.”
A minute later, the young guy put his elbow on the table and Achille did, too. The younger guy got up after they shook and moved out of the window’s frame. Maybe he had left? Achille stuck around, ordering another drink from the waitress.
I hit the side button on my watch, the screen turning into a touchscreen keyboard, and sent Capo a text. One of the men from Italy is here. Sitting right outside of the peeper window. Achille. I hoped that I’d spelled his name right. It was odd. A-kill-ee.
My watch lit up a second later. Stay in our private room. I’m on my way.
A knock came at the door and I looked up. Sylvester. “Mrs. Macchiavello, I hate to disturb you, but Detective Stone requests a word with you.”
I stared at Sylvester for a moment. What fucking timing. Detective Stone wasn’t allowed in this room. It was used exclusively for Capo and his guests. Stone was not on the guest list. And if I met him out front, Achille might see me and recognize me, and then maybe he’d hang around more. The thought of being close to him made the steak feel like jerky stuck in my throat.
“Can he come back? I’m having dinner.” It was almost gone, but he didn’t know that. “Or have him call and make an appointment.”
“No.” Sylvester shook his head. “He says he needs to speak to you now. If you are eating, he will wait until you finish dinner.”
“Have him meet me in the kitchen,” I said.
“I’m going to get going.” Keely stood abruptly, throwing her purse over her shoulder. She gave me a hard kiss on the head. “Call me tomorrow. We’ll go shopping soon for our baby boy.”
“Keely.” I stopped her. “What’s going on with you and Stone? Is that why he’s here?”
“Nothing. Between us, I mean. I’m not sure why he’s here. If it’s about me, tell him you have no idea what’s going on.”
“I don’t.”
“You’re better off.” She threw me a kiss and then left.
Giovanni escorted me to the kitchen, his hold tighter than normal.
“Do you think I’m going to run to him?” I yanked my arm out of his grip.
“I apologize,” he said. “Detective Stone wants to speak to you. Alone.”
“What for?”
Giovanni shrugged. “Mac is not going to like this.”
“Let’s hope I can answer his questions before Mac gets here.” I entered into the kitchen alone. It bustled, and all of the hustling bodies and stoves made it feel like a degree before hell.
Detective Stone stood in the corner, trying to stand out of the way, and when he noticed me, he called me with a finger.