Kon (Trassato Crime Family Book 2)(17)
“And marrying me does?”
“There has to be another way,” she whispered, looking lost.
“If you find one, I’m all ears. Until then, incentivizing Nico is our best option.”
She shifted on her feet and blew out a shaky breath. “Then why’d you kiss me? Nobody is here to witness it.”
I scanned her body from head to toe, letting her see how beautiful I thought she was. “While I might not want to marry you, I’m not blind. You’re sexy as fuck, and you know we have chemistry. There’s no harm in exploring it. We might as well get it out of our system before you’re permanently chained to Nico.”
“Ugh. I can’t believe you.” She cocked her hip and lifted her chin. “I’ve had enough for tonight. Take me home.”
“Sure, solnyshka.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What does that mean? You said it earlier.”
“It’s not important.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Carmela
“You’re quiet tonight. Is something wrong?”
Nico lifted the bottle of wine and refilled my glass. When he’d invited me to dinner, I didn’t realize he planned to have me come to his home. I would have picked a more public venue. I wasn’t ready to take our relationship to a new, more intimate level. My instincts told me Nico had every intention of hitting the fast forward button, and tonight was only the beginning of his campaign.
He had pulled out all the stops. Flickering candles, dimmed lighting, red roses, bubbly lasagna, a bottle of Chianti, tiramisu from Carbone’s Bakery, soft music.
None of his efforts inspired a surge of fuzzy romantic feelings for him, which didn’t make sense. Most women would be floating on a cloud of bliss, having a man like Nico trying to woo them. I wasn’t most women, though, and his actions coupled with my mom’s insistence on beating the “Nico’s so great drum” sent me into a mental tailspin. Their expectations and the inevitability of my future felt like a hangman’s noose slowly contracting around my neck.
I lifted the glass of wine to my lips and the tang of tart cherries curled up my nose. I wasn’t a big red wine drinker. It made me tired and gave me a dull morning after headache. I poured a drop of the dry wine between my lips. “I’m tired.”
“Oh really?”
“I didn’t get much sleep.”
“Hm.” He leaned forward, his forearm skating on top of the table. “Did you get home late last night?”
“Not too late.”
“Your mom said you went out to dinner with a friend from school or something. I didn’t realize you were taking classes.”
“Oh, yeah.” I twisted the napkin in my lap. I hated lying, and as much as Kon wanted Nico to think there was something happening between us, I couldn’t deal with the fallout tonight. I wasn’t strong enough to face Nico or my family. “I’m not taking classes. Not now, anyway. I was working on my interior design degree before everything happened with Rocco, and I haven’t found the time to dedicate to it with my dad and everything else.”
He reached across the table, brushing his fingertips across the top of my hand. “You want to finish your degree?”
“I do. I enrolled in some classes this fall, and if my mom is doing better, I intend to go ahead with it.”
“Rocco and your dad approved of you pursuing a career?”
“They knew I wanted to finish my degree,” I prevaricated, not interested in rehashing the fights about wanting a career. Initially, Rocco supported me. He went so far as to help me put my application together. My dad was a different story altogether. He hated the idea of his daughter being “a lackey” for people too lazy or dumb to pick out their own shit.
Over time, Rocco changed his tune too. He said I could finish my degree if I didn’t try to pursue a career, and there was the crux of our nonstop fights leading up to his death. Rocco got this hair up his ass that he wanted to start a family right away and became more and more insistent that I give up my dreams in order to facilitate his.
“Don’t you think you’re a little too old to finish now?”
If I was bristling before, now my mood bordered on livid. Holy hell. Why did everyone act like I was ancient? I wasn’t some spinster who’d spent my life with my nose buried in books. I had come within one month of marrying Rocco. I had plenty of friends and an active social life before my life spiraled into the toilet. I’d been in a funk for three years now, but if I focused on meeting my career goals, I’d find normalcy again, or some version of it.
“No. I don’t.” I dropped my fork, and it clattered against my plate. “I need twenty credits to finish my degree, which means by next summer I’ll be done. I won’t even be thirty by then. That hardly qualifies as too old to start a career.”