The Dominator (15 page)

“No, my Mom was Italian but she never taught me. She only spoke it in the house when she was yelling at my Dad or using it to keep some secret from me talking on the phone or whatever. We never understood her but knew when she spoke Italian someone was either about to get something good or get in trouble,” I laughed a little, and then I knew my face sobered, thinking about her, about my Dad.

“I ordered us the lasagna. The lasagna here is to die for.” Tommy tried to change the subject, “The only lasagna better was my mother’s. She never passed the recipe on before she died but my sister Tessa does pretty good.”

“I think my Mom was the only Italian woman in the world who couldn’t cook,” I said, smiling, but Dad could cook. Between my Dad and Rose, I’d learned to cook, too. Dad had shown me how to make meals seemingly from nothing. When the fridge and pantry had been nearly bare at times he’d come up with gourmet concoctions and I’d watch and had started to make suggestions for spices or additions to the meals based on what I could find in the cupboard or freezer. We joked that we could make anything taste gourmet with a little of Dad’s secret spice blend.

The waiter brought warm bread and an antipasto platter. It smelled mouth-watering and for the first time in days I was actually hungry.  It all tasted as good as it smelled, “Oh, this is so good!” I exclaimed and Tommy looked happy. He kind of smiled like ice cream parlor guy, looking insanely attractive. He wore jeans but with a black button down dress shirt today under a blazer and the top few buttons were down and I could see a little of his chest. There was a thick silver chain on his neck with a crucifix of about 2 inches long on it. I felt a pang in my gut, reminding me that it was just wishful thinking that this wasn’t what I was pretending it was, that this wasn’t a real date with that guy that I’d daydreamed about. After it was over he wouldn’t walk me to my door at my new apartment and kiss me goodnight before we’d go our separate ways. If only. If only after tonight I could dream about our second date. I’d call my friends and we’d talk about the date for hours. If only…

Tommy

Watching her eat was a beautiful thing. She seemed carefree and she was eating, which was good, as Sarah had complained that she’d barely eaten anything since arriving. She was talkative, too, nothing too in-depth but we conversed about the food, the restaurant, and the mood was light. But staring into her dessert, she started to take on the look of someone with the weight of the world on her shoulders.

My phone rang just before I delved into my dessert. I answered.

“Tommy! We’ve got a huge problem. Huge!” it was Luciana, my sister.

“Is it the baby?” I exclaimed into the phone. Tia looked up at me from her tiramisu.

“No, we have a big problem because I’ve just heard the news, news that did not come from you. You’re engaged! I’m going to punch you in the nuts for letting me find out from someone else. How could you?”

I let out a little huff, “Seriously, Luc?”

“Yes, seriously! Q’uest que fuck, Tommy?”

“It’s not official yet so no nut-punching, alright? I’m not alone,” I answered, “Tia and I are out for dinner. I’ll call you later.”

“Bring her Sunday for dinner to Pop’s. We need to meet her. I’ve got Tess here. She agrees.”

“That was already part of the plan.” I answered, “Gotta go.”

Tia was looking at me curiously. I shrugged, “My sisters just found out about you. They’re anxious to meet you. Sunday there’s dinner at my Pop’s. We’re expected. You get to have the whole Ferrano experience all at once.” I rolled my eyes.

Her eyes widened fractionally, then she said, “Tell me about them.”

“Well, there’s Contessa - Tessa, she’s, ah, 22, has 2 boys, aged 1 and almost 3. There’s Dario - Dare, you met him, he’s 24 and single, then there’s Luciana, Luc, she’s 22 also, she and Tess are like 10 months apart, and is pregnant with her 3
rd
. She has 2 year old twin girls.”

“Uncle Tommy? You’re the oldest?”

I smirked at her, feeling a twinge at my name on her lips. That might’ve been the first time she’d said it. “That’s me. Thomas Vincent Ferrano Jr. 29. The three of them are my half siblings. Pop remarried after my Mother died. That marriage didn’t last though, so he got married again. That didn’t last either. Now he’s on wife #4. Lisa is the same age as Dare. She’s good friends with the girls.”

Tia winced.

“Yeah. That didn’t go over well at first. Everyone’s over it. Pop’s a real ladies’ man.”

She shuffled uneasily in her seat. I looked at her curiously.

“I’m so full.” she said, putting her fork down.

I signaled for the waiter to bring the bill, “Wanna take a walk? Walk off all these carbs?”

“Great idea,” she smiled at me. Her smile seemed genuine. She was a damn fine actress so far. This was good to know.

Five minutes up the road we pulled into the parking lot for the beach. It was close to sunset and the weather was perfect for a stroll.  As she got out of the car I grabbed her hand and held it as we walked. We got to the sand and she stopped, reached for and then held onto my shoulder, and then pulled the strap off an ankle, let that shoe drop off, and then let go of me to get the other shoe off. She bent and looped the straps around her index finger to carry them and I grabbed her free hand again and kissed each of her knuckles. 

She looked up at me and smiled, “Thanks for dinner, Tommy.”

My name again. Another twinge. And that smile seemed real. I felt a pang of annoyance that it seemed so real. I think I must’ve frowned at her because she swallowed hard and chewed her bottom lip and looked down. I took a few steadying breaths to push my pissed off attitude away, I lifted my necklace out of my shirt and fingered the crucifix on it as we walked in silence. I caught a look on her face that made me realize I was squeezing her hand too tight. I loosened it and her expression softened.

A tiny fur ball of a golden retriever puppy bounded right up to her and started licking her calves. She let go of my hand and dropped to her knees, dropping her shoes and pulling the pup into her lap, “Oh my gooooodness!” The dog licked at the air, furiously, wanting to lick her face. She held him back at arm’s length but giggled. A kid, probably around 10, ran up to us with a leash in his hand and it still had the collar attached to it. Obviously the pup had squirmed right out of his collar.

“Sorry!” the kid said, “Marley!”

“Oh it’s okay!” Tia exclaimed, “He’s soooo cute; how old is he?”

The kid shrugged but the dog couldn’t be any more than 8-9 weeks old. Tia was scratching him behind both ears and he was licking her arms.  Her red dress was covered in wet and dry sand and she didn’t seem to care in the least.

The kid leaned over and tried to get the collar over the pup’s head but the dog was having none of it. He took off into the water. The kid shouted at the dog and Tia started to laugh.

“He’s a water dog, he can’t help it!” she said, giggling.

The kid’s father came running up. The guy was out of shape and out of breath. The dog had obviously gone on a good run. The guy looked at the dog swimming in the water like it was his worst nightmare come true.

“Hang on,” Tia called to him and then she lifted a thick stick up off the beach and tossed it toward the dog. It landed in the water beside the pup and he immediately swam to it and caught it between his teeth.  Tia started slapping her legs, “Come here, Marley, come here! Fetch!” The dog started swimming toward her with the stick in his mouth.

“You’re a genius!” the kid’s father said.

She just laughed, “I love goldens. They can’t resist two things. Water and retrieving.” she was laughing harder, all carefree. It was a beautiful sound.

Yeah, and he can’t resist beautiful girls.

I shook my head, taking it all in, a grin on my face. She flashed a smile at me and it was so gorgeous and seemed so genuine that I felt a pain pierce my chest.

The dog bounded toward Tia again and then shook hard, getting all of us wet. Tia squealed like she loved it. The dad went to grab the dog, “Wait!” Tia told him. We have to let him fetch it at least once more. Can I? He’d think I was a liar if we just let you chain him without a fetch.”

The guy laughed and shrugged. My face hurt from my perma grin. She didn’t want the dog to think she was tricking him. I shook my head at that.

“Marley, drop it!” she demanded, with authority, and pointed at the ground. The pup held tight to the stick for a second and then dropped the stick in front of her and panted enthusiastically at her. She swiped it and flung it into the water and squealed with glee as the dog took off back into the water. “He’s so smart already.”

As soon as she slapped her legs, “Marley!” he swam back.  The little boy took the stick from the dog and threw it into the water again and I grabbed her hand and whispered in her ear, “Let’s make our getaway.”

“Bye,” she said to the guy and his kid and waved at the dog who was swimming back toward us. She actually waved bye to the dog. I was shaking my head.

She seemed light and carefree. She was walking along, a spring in her step, holding my hand, smiling. I’d somehow wound up carrying her sandals in my free hand, and the sun was setting. It was like something out of a chick flick. I had to kiss her and take full advantage of this moment right fucking now.

We were in an area with no one else around. I stopped and took in a big breath. She stopped and looked at me. Then she swallowed hard. She looked a little bit freaked out.

I reached down and brushed some sand off her cheek with my thumb and then leaned down and sucked in her bottom lip. She hesitated at first but a second after my lips touched hers, she started to melt into me. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her closer, kissing her deeply. She was responding. The sun was setting, leaving the sky orange and pink. Birds were on the horizon and I was filled with emotion, “Marry me,” I said, caught up in the moment. Stupid beach at fucking sunset. I felt like such a cliché. But clichés are clichés for a reason, I guess. She looked up at me, her jade eyes full of alarm.

“Marry me.” I repeated, “I want that ring on your finger.” I felt like the fucking Grinch who stole Christmas after his heart had grown three sizes.             

She swallowed hard. She was searching her brain for a reply and I saw fear in her eyes. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing but she certainly didn’t want to say
Yes
. For the first time the fear on her face didn’t send a thrill up my spine and through my pants. I kissed her again, kissed her in a way that could be called claiming as much as it could be called kissing and she responded with a little moan into my mouth, and then her hands came up and her fingers wove into my hair and it felt like she was really in the kiss and in the moment with me.

But despite how convincing she was, she had to still be just acting and I was trying my damnedest to not let it piss me off and ruin this moment. But, it nagged at me. For her, this was just self-preservation. I pulled away and looked at her accusingly.

Tia

Until he said, “Marry me” he was Ice Cream Parlor Hottie. Somehow I’d managed to convince myself of that and it had made things not so difficult, other than a few awkward moments. I thought I was doing okay and I did start to forget who he really was there for a bit. But then when he looked at me with that scary hunger in his eyes, he was suddenly the guy that had slapped me and scared me and tied me up, who’d threatened me and everyone I loved.

Thankfully he’d broken the awkwardness when I didn’t answer his proposal, if you could call it a proposal, since he more demanded than asked when he said
marry m
e. He broke it by kissing me again. The way he kissed me…wow. I’d gone weak in the knees. How could he make me feel like that one minute and fill me with hate a moment later? Then, he glared at me for a second like I’d done something wrong and then we were walking hand in hand back toward the car and I wasn’t sure what would happen when we got back to his house. He was walking too fast and I got a stitch in my side.

He waited, looking broody, while I washed the sand off my feet in a small fountain near the parking lot and then walked on the hot pavement to the car. He tossed my shoes into the back seat and got in the car and started it.

He was so quiet all the way back to his house that I didn’t know what I was in for. I just kept seeing his jaw muscles flexing as he drove. My heart was racing. The suspense was freaking me out. When he pulled the car into his driveway and got out, I didn’t know whether or not to sit there and wait or get out. I reached for my shoes and then looked at him as he slammed his door.

“What, you want chivalry now?” he quirked his eyebrows up at me. I opened my mouth but nothing came out. He started to laugh. I cracked a smile, embarrassed, and then got out of the car and followed him into the house. I wasn’t sure if the laugh was cynical or if he was just teasing me. I was having trouble getting a read on him.

“What happened to you?” Sarah, standing in the front hall, looked at me like I was something the cat had dragged in. Tommy was arming the house alarm.

“Wrestling on the beach with a golden retriever puppy,” I said and shrugged.  I caught my reflection in a mirror on the wall in the foyer. My hair was windblown and I was barefoot without an ounce of lipstick remaining on my mouth and my eye makeup was a little bit raccoonish, “Oh, I’m a mess!”