Chapter 2 - It's business, nothing personal

It was worse than I thought. Adriana was folding a blouse and packing it into her suitcase. She wore a big Tweety Bird t-shirt and Christmas socks, and there was toilet paper scattered all over her room.

A few years ago, she went through a phase and cut her hair into a pixie cut. My mom was horrified. Adriana lost her credit card, her acting classes, and got dirty looks for a month after that. Now her hair was a sleek bob, but I learned that cutting your hair was a big deal in our family.

Her room had dark blue walls and white trim, but it looked like a costume shop exploded in there. Posters from famous plays hung on the walls, and weird props like feathers and hats cluttered her vanity. There was even a giant rabbit’s head on her bed. I doubted my dad knew he was paying for all her drama stuff. He didn’t really pay attention to her, as long as she was where she was supposed to be. They just didn’t get each other.

With a sigh, I grabbed the blouse from her suitcase and hung it in the closet. She brushed past me, carrying a pair of jeans. “What’s with all the toilet paper?” I asked.

She sniffled but didn’t answer. I felt worried; Adriana hardly ever cried. The last time was at our grandfather’s funeral when she was thirteen. I picked up the jeans and asked, “Where are you going? “Cuba, Saudi Arabia & maybe North Korea. Pick one,” she replied, passing me with a bikini. “None of those sound good, especially with that swimsuit.” I folded it and put it away.

“Have you met him?” she asked, meaning her future husband. I hesitated. “Yes. He’s nice.” “Where am I going to fit all my props?” She looked at her small suitcase like it wasn’t big enough. “I think they have to stay here.”Her face scrunched up, and tears started. “But I love my costumes! What about Mr. Rabbit?” She held up the giant rabbit’s head. “Well, I don’t think North Korea will let you take him,” I joked.She flopped on the bed and groaned. “What about Cuba?” “Maybe that’s better.” She nodded, wiping her tears. “I have an Alice in Wonderland play coming up.“Who are you playing?” I asked. “The Cheshire Cat.” She smiled, and it felt good to see her happy.

“That fits you.” I found a thin black dress for her in the closet, squeezed between two costumes.

“Get ready. Everyone is here,” I said, putting the dress on her bed.

“Ryan broke up with me,” she said flatly. I softened. “I’m so sorry, Adriana.” He doesn’t understand why I’m getting married. If he doesn’t want to see me, he must not love me, right, Milene?” She looked at me with big brown eyes.

I paused, trying to decide if I should explain things to my sister to help her feel better or just get it over with.

“Okay. She nodded. “I’ll be down soon.” I walked downstairs and turned a corner near the library when I bumped into something warm and solid. I stepped back, knowing who it was before I looked.

Russo.

I felt uneasy, like a flame flickering inside me. We were alone now, and it was so quiet I could hear my heart beating.

I took a step back, mostly to keep my distance from him, as if my instincts were telling me to get away.

He stood there in a gray suit with a sleek black tie. He felt bigger than life in the hallway, or maybe the hall just seemed small. No, it looked normal-sized. Ugh, get a grip, Milene.

He looked at me like I was some strange animal on TV—maybe interesting but mostly dull. He held a cell phone in one hand, so I guessed he was on a private call.

This hall was more of a small space made of arches behind the stairs. Big potted plants blocked our view from the main hall, and a green glass lamp gave off dim light. But it was bright enough to see the impatience in his eyes.

“Are you going to just stand there staring at me all day, or will you move?” he asked.

I blinked, surprised.

“What if I just stand here and stare at you?” I blurted out before I could stop myself. I instantly regretted it. I’d never talked to someone like that before—especially not a boss. My stomach twisted like I was on a ride.

He ran his thumb across his jaw, and I imagined he was thinking about something dangerous. He took a step closer.

I stepped back again.

He lowered his hand, a hint of amusement lighting up his eyes, as if I had entertained him. I didn’t want to be his entertainment, but it felt like I already was.

“I thought the Sweet Abelli was sweet,” he said.

How did he know my nickname?

For some reason, I felt free from that name—maybe because he didn’t know that girl. I wanted to be someone else, especially for him.

“Well, I guess we were both wrong. I thought a gentleman would apologize when bumping into a woman.”

“Sounds like someone is making assumptions,” he said, his voice smooth.

My heart raced, and I shook my head. “It wasn’t an assumption.”

He stepped closer, and I took another step back.

He put his hands in his pockets and looked me up and down. It wasn’t a creepy stare; it felt more like he was studying me.

He focused on my pink heels. “You think you’ve got proof, huh?”

I nodded, feeling breathless under his gaze. “My mom said you were a perfect gentleman at church.”

“I was a perfect gentleman.”

“So, it’s just a matter of whether you want to be one?” He didn’t say anything, but his look made it clear as his eyes moved up from my shoes.

“And I guess you don’t want to be one right now?” I realized I shouldn’t have said that as soon as it left my lips. His intense gaze met mine, feeling like fire. He shook his head slowly. Okay then, I had stood my ground longer than I ever thought I would. But now, I just wanted to get away. “Alright, well... I’ll see you later.”

I didn’t know what else to say, so I tried to walk past him. But he grabbed my wrist. His grip was hot and rough, sending a wave of fear through me. He was close, and his grip was the only connection between us. “Make a list of your sister’s hobbies, likes, dislikes, shoe size, dress size, and anything else useful. Got it?”

“Yeah,” I breathed. How many people had he hurt with that hand? His grip was firm, reminding me how small and out of place I felt. I couldn’t leave unless he let me go.

He watched me closely, and my heart raced. It felt wrong for him to touch me, brother-in-law or not. My dad could come out any minute, but he didn’t seem to care. I did, especially after what had happened earlier. “I’ll give you the list on Friday at the engagement party,” I said, trying to pull my wrist away.

He didn’t let go. My heart raced when his thumb brushed my knuckles. “I thought the Abellis could afford more than a fifty-cent ring.” I looked at the cheap ring on my finger, a purple gem from a vending machine. “Sometimes the cheapest things mean the most,” I replied. Our eyes locked for a moment, and his grip slid down my wrist, brushing against my fingers and making my heart skip. “I’ll see you at lunch, Milene,” he said, walking away into my dad’s office. I leaned against the wall, feeling the weight of the ring. I could take it off, but I knew I wouldn’t—not yet.

His grip still burned on my wrist as I left the hallway. Once again, he’d said my name in a way that felt wrong.

It was a hot July afternoon, but a nice breeze made it bearable. Lights were hung around the wooden patio, and my mom’s rose bushes looked lovely. The chairs were comfy, and the food was good, but I felt uncomfortable among strangers. Gianna, sitting across from me, didn’t seem to mind at all. “Anyway, the cop let me go, and he didn’t even take my coke—” “Gianna,” Salvatore warned from down the table. She rolled her eyes and took a big sip of wine but stayed quiet. I wondered why Salvatore told her to be quiet and what their relationship was. They seemed annoyed with each other, but I thought I’d heard he was an only child. Gianna’s older husband hadn’t said a word, only chuckled awkwardly. I wondered if he could even hear.

Gianna was my opposite. I was quiet; she talked freely and laughed loudly. I was shy, while she stuck her gum to her napkin before eating her pasta without twisting it. I felt a bit jealous of her carefree attitude.

Tony sat next to her, leaning back in his chair and looking bored. But I knew better. The way he scratched his scruffy jaw showed he was both angry and amused. He was good-looking, but I wouldn’t want to be around him if I wasn’t his sister. He was reckless, and that made him dangerous. He caught my eye and winked at me.

The yard was filled with chatter and the sound of clinking silverware, but a tense feeling hung in the air. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves, but I felt out of place. Gianna quickly changed the subject to horse racing, and everyone joined in. Even though drugs were common among the guests, we pretended to be a perfect family in public, surrounded by iron gates and security.

I was glad Adriana stayed instead of going to Cuba. She sat with her fiancé and my dad at the other end of the table. I felt like a coward for being happy I didn’t have to sit near Salvatore. I was a polite hostess, able to respond to any rude comments from others, but I struggled to find words with him. I felt shy and warm, like I was blushing all the time.

Even though talking to him was hard, I couldn’t help but glance his way. He had a handsome look that fit Adriana's style. He had tanned skin, almost black hair, and I noticed his strong arms through his shirt. He looked even better in the sunlight, which made me wish he had a better personality.

What caught my attention the most was the dark tattoo peeking out from under his white dress shirt. It looked like it went from his shoulder to the gold watch on his wrist