When Smiles Fade (41 page)

While she took in her surroundings, Salvatore ordered a bottle of Brunello di Montalcino and watched his companion for a moment.

“This is one of the oldest Italian restaurants in the country,” he told her. “The very first place my great-great-grandfather came to when he arrived in Philadelphia from Italy. Someone had written down the name of the restaurant on a piece of paper for him. He got himself a job here as a waiter and lived upstairs. This place is known for helping Italian immigrants find their way in America.”

“It’s wonderful, Salvatore,” Emma told him. “I really envy you for knowing so much about your heritage. You’re really proud of being Italian, aren’t you?”

“Yes, that’s true,” he admitted. “I love everything about my heritage—the food, the culture, the traditions, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t love other things that aren’t Italian.” He lifted her hand and kissed it gently, gazing into her eyes all the while.

Emma laughed, feeling both flattered and happy. He was so serious at times that it made her feel as if she were older than her twenty-one years. She couldn’t decide if she liked that or not. She wanted to be independent and didn’t want to feel as though she were aging before her time. She loved being young and reckless. She missed working at Doubles, and while she was definitely attracted to Salvatore, she still couldn’t decide if she was ready for a serious relationship.

During the first half hour, as they sat sipping their wine, several men came over to them and shook Salvatore’s hand. They told him how good it was to see him and asked about his father.

Finally he waved over the maître d’ and told him firmly, “Please see to it that there are no more interruptions.”

The man nodded respectfully and withdrew. Emma watched him whisper instructions to the group of waiters on his way back to the podium where he stood to greet guests. After that, it was just the two of them, Emma and Salvatore. They talked about Izzy and what a wonderfully lively and endearing child she was.

Then Emma asked, “So what’s Macie’s story?”

Salvatore explained, “She never married, probably because she doesn’t even know how to talk to a man or behave in his presence. Her parents were very strict with her and she never really had a social life beyond family circles. Anyway, Macie loves children. Since she has none of her own, she likes to babysit other people’s kids. Tony and I have been friends since we were six-years old. He’s very protective of his sister and she only babysits for people he can trust. I’ve known her for years. Don’t worry, Izzy is safe with her. She’s a little odd with adults, but great with kids. Her parents didn’t let her do anything when she was a kid. She never got to experience much of life.”

“I’m not worried, just curious. In fact, there are a lot of things about you that make me curious. Why, for instance, does everyone rush to greet you as though you’re some kind of celebrity? What’s up with that?” she asked casually.

Salvatore answered carefully, “It’s a respect thing. People show their respect by acknowledging my presence. It’s respect for my father and me. Respect for my whole family, really.”

It was on the tip of Emma’s tongue to ask him if this respect came from the awe in which everyone held his father, the head of the Italian Mafia, but she already knew the answer. Salvatore himself had never mentioned the Mafia in his conversations and instinct told her to tread carefully in this area.

However, a few days prior her suspicions had been confirmed when Emma overheard Tony and Vincent talking to Salvatore in his office. They hadn’t shut the door completely and she couldn’t help but eavesdrop on their conversation. “Yeah,” Tony had stated in an excited voice, “the kid did real good, Sal. He took it nice and slow just like ya wanted him to do. First, he broke his fuckin’ kneecaps wit da hammer then he smashed his knuckles to bits wit the butt of his gun. Then to top it off he cut his lousy, snitching tongue out and strangled the motherfucker to death wit his bare hands. It was beautiful, Sal, ya wooda been real proud of ’im.”

Although she wanted Salvatore to admit to her that he helped run the Mafia by pursuing this line of conversation, she knew that she risked unleashing his wrath. But she was eager to know everything there was to know about his mysterious life and resolved to find out more over time. She let the thought drift out of her mind and enjoyed the distinctive flavors of the dishes he had ordered for them.

The cheeses were creamy and sharp, the meat tender and juicy, and the pasta was cooked to perfection. They had just finished dessert when Salvatore placed his arm along the back of her chair and leaned close to her ear.

“I have a surprise waiting outside for you,” he whispered.

“Oh really?” Emma teased, unable to imagine what more he could possibly do to impress her.

“Yes, really,” he said.

As they stood to leave, she felt the gentle pressure of his hand on the small of her back guiding her out of the restaurant, which sent an exhilarating thrill through her body.

Waiting at the curb outside was a horse-drawn buggy. For a fleeting moment, Emma felt like Cinderella climbing into her carriage. Once they were seated, the driver slowly started moving through the city. Emma leaned back against the soft leather seat and closed her eyes, imagining how great it would be to have a whole lifetime as perfect as this night. As they made their way slowly through the city, she began hoping that she and Isabella would never have to leave.

By the time they returned to the apartment, Macie had the fireplace blazing for them.

“Did you two have a good time?” she asked with a touch of envy.

Macie had loved Salvatore since she was a teenager, but her feelings had neither been articulated nor reciprocated. For Salvatore, she was nothing more than Tony’s sister.

“We had a wonderful time, Macie. Thanks for coming over,” he told her, leaning over to give her a quick peck on the cheek.

Watching the woman blush, Emma instinctively knew that Macie had a crush on him. She felt sorry for the woman, because she knew how it felt to yearn for someone’s love when that person didn’t love you back. On an impulse, Emma went over to Macie and embraced her.

“Thank you so much for taking care of Izzy,” she said gently. “I really appreciate it.”

Macie was surprised by the warm gesture from a woman as beautiful as Emma. She wished she could, just for one day, be as beautiful as the blond creature who stood before her. If she had been born with Emma’s looks, she consoled herself, maybe Salvatore would have loved her instead. It was hard for her to dislike this lovely young woman, however. She was kind and polite and her niece was a wonderful kid, as smart as they came.

Before Macie left for the night, Salvatore went into the kitchen, leaving the two women in the living room. Moments later, Tony and Vincent emerged from the kitchen with three very large men in tow, a fact that did not escape Emma’s notice.

“Goodnight, Emma,” Tony said, giving her a wink. “See you tomorrow.”

Salvatore led her over to the sofa in front of the fireplace. He made her sit down and handed her a glass of cognac. Emma took one sip and started coughing.

“Yuck!” she grimaced. “What is this?”

Laughing, he explained, “It’s cognac, an after-dinner drink. It’s an acquired taste. It’s meant to be sipped slowly and enjoyed thoroughly.”

Emma shook her head. “Well, I’m gonna need some cheap alcohol, then. That shit is like drinking gasoline.”

Laughing at her refreshing honesty, Salvatore walked over to the bar and poured her a glass of wine. It was her third glass that evening and she was starting to feel a little tipsy. She told herself to drink the wine slowly. The last thing she wanted to do was barf in the middle of this perfect night.

He slipped onto the sofa next to her and put his strong arm around her shoulder. “So tell me who Emma really is. I know a lot about you, but I want to know everything about you.”

Emma considered his request for a moment. She had already told him about her childhood with Pepper and how Jake had treated Gracie and her. Should she tell him the whole truth about her past? Would that turn him off or make him love her more? Would telling him that she had murdered three people be too much for him to handle? Being a Mafioso, he was no stranger to violence. But he might feel differently about murder committed by a woman. She was pretty sure that in his world, women didn’t do the killing; they did the cooking.

“Well, what do you want to know?” she now asked. “I’ve told you about my childhood. You know how awful that was.” She was trying to gauge what he wanted to hear.

“Yes, I know,” Salvatore said gently. “I want to know how you got away from your father and Jake. How did you end up at Double Visions? You needed the money, I know, but what drove you from your home? You told me Jake had died. So why did you feel the need to run?”

“Well, I knew it was just a matter of time before my mother found another man,” Emma replied, her quick mind helping her to present a logical explanation. “I didn’t want to take any more chances. So I fixed her up real good, loaded Gracie into a car, and split. We spent some time living in a car. I heard about Doubles on the radio, went to amateur night there, met Ethan, met you, and here I am!” It had all come out in one breath and she hoped it would stop him probing further. Then she quickly changed the subject. “You know, the truth is that you know a lot about me and I know practically nothing about you.”

Up until that moment, she had known about him being a member of the Mafia, but they had never openly talked about it. She hoped he would now. She had so many questions.

“Well, my family runs a big business,” Salvatore told her. “I’m the fourth generation running it. My great-great-grandfather, whom I told you about earlier, started the business when he came to America at the age of twenty-three. We’ve been very successful, and I consider myself a lucky man to be a part of it all.” His casual manner made it all sound very legitimate.

Emma stared at him in wonder, then took the plunge. “Your father is the boss of the Mafia in Philadelphia, right?”

Salvatore choked on his cognac. “Well, Bella, we don’t talk about such things,” he managed, recovering quickly from the initial shock. “I’m sure you can understand why. But I do admit that my family is influential and has a lot of power. We have many businesses throughout the city.”

She tilted her head to one side. “So you don’t run the Mafia?” she persisted.

Salvatore thought quickly. Those who were a part of the Mafia never admitted it to anyone, not even their spouses, and he had never been blatantly asked the question before now. However, he wanted her to be careful since people had seen them together and would know that she was an interest of his. He had to be mindful about not putting Emma in harm’s way. At the same time he had to ensure that if things didn’t work out between the two of them, the interests of the family to which he belonged were not put at risk and by its very nature putting her at risk as well. The Mafia never left loose ends. Balancing both with the women he had been involved with was an art he had mastered over the years.

“As I said,” he repeated, “we have many successful businesses throughout the city. That’s all there is to it.”

Emma felt agitated at his avoidance of the truth and the way he had eluded answering her question. After all, he knew almost everything there was to know about Izzy and her. While she stewed silently, he leaned over, plucked the glass from her hand, and placed it on the table. Then he leaned in closer and kissed her neck. With every subsequent kiss he planted on her neck, her annoyance dissolved, flaring into passion. He kissed the top of her breasts, peeping over the deep neckline of her dress. Then he slowly raised his head and looked into her face. Emma leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips.

Salvatore stood, pulled her up to him, and turned her around. He started to kiss the back of her neck while his fingers slowly unzipped her dress. As it fell to the floor, she stepped out of it and turned to face him. She was wearing the most exquisite undergarments—a black lace bra and thong and fishnet stockings with a matching garter belt—that showed off her figure to perfection. She stood before him, young, beautiful, and confident. Salvatore stepped into her and kissed her lips softly, parting them with his tongue. Emma experienced a shock of pleasure as their tongues brushed and their kiss deepened. They wanted each other desperately, and now nothing stood between them.

Salvatore laid her down on the fur rug, but before he could join her, Emma had reached up and unzipped his pants, letting them drop to the ground. When he lay down beside her, she tore his shirt open, popping the buttons off one at a time. With desire overpowering him now, his fingers were clumsy as he removed her bra and put his mouth over one of her breasts. He had wanted to have her for so long it seemed almost unreal to him that she should now lie there beside him, ready to love him back. They touched each other, carrying out their explorations with a sense of wonder, until finally he slipped his fingers inside her. She gazed up at him, her eyes wide and imploring, as if begging him for more, and unable to hold back any longer, he gently eased himself inside her. They made love with a frenzy neither had felt before that moment, until each of them exploded at the peak of their own ecstasy. Afterward, they lay naked, staring at the fire. Engrossed in their thoughts, they contemplated their feelings for each other and reflected on the wonderful experience they had just shared.