Dare (2 page)

Chapter Two

Ariella breathed. Her lungs expanded, the chill air tingling, the faint scent of the slightly salty bay and Grandpop’s cologne—Dolce and Gabbana’s The One, if her guess was right—easing her tight shoulders. The tension, the feeling of holding her breath that had been with her every day for longer than she wanted to admit, began to loosen.

She fingered Layla’s small, warm hand. The old grief constricted her throat tighter. Being here, where she and her family had lived, had gone to church every Sunday, brought it back. Yet it loosened the grip of grief, too. She had Layla, and she could finally get back to the life her parents had wanted for her, the life she used to dream about.

She peeked at Joey, who strode behind them. His jaw was tight, his features etched with his strength, and a hint of pain. Her legs ached to run away from the pain she’d caused, as she had that night nine years before. She squeezed Layla’s hand. No more running.

She glanced at Grandpop. He and his brother, Enzo, had been like her grandparents, the way they’d welcomed her into their homes, gone out of their way to help her. Grandpop hadn’t changed much. His hair was still a gorgeous silver, still thick, and his upright, tall, but stocky body much like her father’s robust physique had been. She blinked. It wasn’t just the cold air making her eyes water.

Lights from the city twinkled around them as they wended their way to Grandpop’s car. Lingering scents from the surrounding restaurants and cafes mingled with the sounds of the remaining cars on the streets and people on the sidewalks, creating a lively scene. Tucson had some of the same, but it was more similar to where she’d grown up in Mexico. San Francisco was different—the air from the bay, the diverse cuisines and people, the hilly streets and historic Victorians—the life here infused her with energy, hope.

Joey opened the door to Grandpop’s town car for Layla. Ariella glanced at Joe as she helped Layla into the back seat. His rugged profile and the determined set of his jaw made her back rigid.

“Oh, Layla’s booster seat,” she said. “Why don’t we just take a taxi to your house in the morning?”

“We can get it from your hotel,” Joey said. “Then I can drive us all to Grandpop’s.” His expression now added wariness to the pain.

“Layla needs to get to bed.”

“The sooner we get to my house, the sooner she can be in bed. You and Joe get your things while Layla and I stay in the car.” Grandpop waited by the rear door.

“I don’t know… She’s only ever stayed with her babysitter.”

“I’ll protect her with my life. You’re both safe now.” Grandpop touched her shoulder. “You and Joe get your things and then we’ll go home.”

She nodded. Her best friend and mentor in Tuscon, Jorge, had told her before she’d moved that he and Grandpop were friends. Grandpop must know what her life had been. Grandpop eased into the back seat. Joey waited for her. His brow furrowed. He must wonder what was going on. She tried to smile, but instead she walked forward. Joey strode behind. In a moment, he was next to her, silent and strong.

She trusted Grandpop—and Joey—with her life. Her back eased. Having people you could trust was vital. She’d had a couple of trusted friends in Arizona—Jorge, her mentor, and Madge, Ariella’s babysitter.

She glanced at Joey again. He’d filled out since high school, now more muscular and manly.

“Where to?” he asked.

“Up Columbus two blocks.”

He nodded and they walked to Columbus, turning and striding up the busy, bright block. He’d been cute, a nice guy, back in high school. The kind of guy her youthful self had thought of as just a friend, not exciting enough to be a boyfriend. Until the night…the night she realized how exciting he was. Dangerously exciting: that had made her run away. But the danger with Joey had only been to her heart—and his. There was a lot worse danger out there, as she knew too well. Her limbs prickled, the first sign of her negative thoughts swelling, poised to flood in. She focused on her breath, and on him.

“How was Arizona?” He stepped forward, opening the front door of the hotel for her.

“Fine. You’re a cop now, huh?”

“Yep.” He flashed her a look, irritated, wary, his eyebrows raised.

So she’d checked him out online. She’d wanted to keep some touch with her old life.

“How’d you know?” he asked.

“Arizona’s not the other side of the world.”

“You might as well have been as far, for all anyone knew.” His tone had a bitter tinge, the lick of salt on a margarita.

She noticed his lips, drawn into a slight frown. How might they taste? She glanced away for a moment.

“What was that all about, you disappearing?” His voice was low. They entered the elevator.

Had he looked for her, wondered about her like she had him?

She glanced at him. He stared forward, his body rigid, as if he were standing guard. She leaned against the side of the elevator, the weight of the years away adding to her fatigue. Once it had been safe for her to tell Layla about her “other” life, Grandpop, Enzo, and the other DeGrazias, and the D’Angelos, had been the first people she’d told Layla about.

For over a year, she’d been planning this return. She’d tried not to raise her hopes, but so far even her dreams weren’t as wonderful as the feeling of being here again. Though the long day of excitement and anticipation now left her tired, her body heavy.

She pushed off from the wall as the elevator door opened. Joe waited for her to exit first and lead the way to her room. “I hope Layla’s okay.”

“Grandpop will entertain her. They’re probably talking about Santa. She’s a happy girl,” Joey said.

“She’s happy now.” It had taken therapy and time to heal for them both to get to this place. “It’s good to be home. She’s not usually chatty—only around people she feels comfortable with.” And people Ariella told her she could trust. “She’s been enjoying herself here. It wasn’t going to be a fun Christmas for her, alone with me in a hotel.” Though that would’ve been better than some of their other Christmases.

“Is this home?” Joey’s tone tinged with wariness.

“More than anywhere else. I was happy here, until…” She unlocked the door to the room. They stepped in. She’d been relatively happy, for a teenager, until her family had died, and she’d “disappeared.” She’d wanted to erase herself, who she’d been those last months of high school.

“Why leave, then?” His voice hardened, tangled the wary tone with hurt. A tone she recognized.

“I’m not a suspect.”

He grimaced. “Sorry.” He pushed out a breath. “It’s Christmas. Let’s enjoy.”

“Agreed. So, what’s been happening in your family?” Walking around the room, she packed up the few things they’d taken out today. She placed a couple of backpacks on the bed.

He gave her a leery sideways glance. He was right to be suspicious, since she knew some of what had been happening—mainly a lot of wedding announcements, like Joey’s cousin Gina D’Angelo to Vincente De Grazia; Lorenzo Calabra, another of his cousins, of a sort, to Lita Sabatini; and family friend Paolo Francis to Marco Garamendi, the chef at Joey’s Uncle Sal’s. That Lorenzo had married before Joey surprised her. Of course, just because Joey wasn’t married didn’t mean he wasn’t in a relationship. She pulled the backpacks to her chest.

“No news?” she asked again, since he hadn’t answered.

“None you couldn’t have found online, I guess. Lorenzo and Lita’s baby is due any minute now.”

“Wow. I can’t picture Lorenzo married, a dad.”

“We all were surprised. But he’s proven himself. He loves Lita.”

“That’s great.” She shook her head to dislodge the negative loop about her own marriage. Lorenzo was not Luis. For sure, Joey wasn’t. She’d been so confused back then. Now she was past all that, except the regrets, the guilt. “Thought you would’ve been the first to marry. Even Janetta’s engaged, right?”

“Yep. You kept informed.” He sounded like he wanted to add: “What’s up with that?” or some other sarcastic remark. But Joey hadn’t been the sarcastic type.

“You all were my second family.”

He clenched his jaw. She touched his arm. He tensed slightly, so she pulled away.

“Is this it?” He motioned to the backpacks.

“Two suitcases in the closet.” She hadn’t unpacked much. They’d arrived this morning, and Layla had wanted to explore. “I shipped a couple of boxes to Liz. That’s all we have.”

“You have friends.” Joe got the suitcases from the closet.

She managed a wan smile. She wanted to be more than his friend. But it was too soon, and she wanted to explain her choices to him. Hopefully, he’d understand. Hopefully, it would matter to him, as he did to her. She slung the backpacks on her shoulder and they walked out.

“We were all concerned about you. It’s good you have Layla.” Joey’s voice had softened a notch.

“She’s my girl. I’m really proud of her. She’s a lot like Maria.”

“I noticed. Your sister was a sweet girl.”

“She thought you’d threaded the stars, you know.” Maria had been fourteen, but wise beyond her years. She’d seen the good man Joey was. Maria had loved him like a brother.

“I didn’t, but I hope she knew I cared.” He waited again as she entered the elevator.

“She did.” And she used to tell Ariella what a dope she was for going with a jerk like Brent Scofield when Maria insisted Ariella could have dated Joey instead—and so had her parents. But Ariella had always responded “We’re just friends.” And they had been, of a kind, going on group dates, hanging out at D’Angelo family parties, working on school projects together—the usual high school stuff.

“Good.”

She nodded and walked into the lobby. “Excuse me. I’ve got to check out.”

Joey stood with the bags while she went to the desk and checked out of the hotel. She hoped she was making the right choice. Layla seemed so excited to stay with Grandpop, in a real home.

She met Joey and they walked out and down the street. The night air had chilled further, nipping at her cheeks. They walked faster, soon making it to the car. Joe opened the trunk and placed the bags in. She thanked him as he held the door for her.

She glanced back. Layla was smiling while Grandpop told her a story about Befana, who delivered gifts to children in Italy on Epiphany. Joey hopped into the driver’s seat. They drove up the hill, the lights of North Beach twinkling, an impressive display, especially during the holiday season. It was as if a heavenly seamstress had embroidered stars and colored designs right down to the edges of the earth. Grandpop’s mansion shone, its white elegance made festive with large wreaths and white lights, huge blooming poinsettias, and red and white landscaping accentuating the holiday displays.

Layla exclaimed and laughed with Grandpop as he spoke of his house, and what waited inside. Joey pulled the car into the garage.

“Do you want to get Layla settled?” Grandpop asked.

“Yes.” She got out of the car and helped Layla.

“I want to see the tree.” Probably Layla saw this as an opportunity to stay up even later, an uncommon occurrence.

“No, Layla, right to bed.” She tried to take Layla’s hand, but she avoided Ariella’s touch and ran to Grandpop. “Please, Grandpop?”

Ariella rubbed her fingers. Layla trusted Grandpop, and so did she. But Layla hadn’t ever avoided her before. She swallowed down the sadness. Layla was happy.

“You and Joe could put your things upstairs. We’ll have seen the tree by then, and leave cookies for Santa.” Grandpop smoothed Layla’s hair. She hopped slightly.

Ariella smiled. Layla was so full of joy. Christmas was her favorite holiday. “Okay. But right to bed once I get downstairs, Layla.”

“Yes, Mommy.” Layla ran to her and kissed her cheek.

She touched Layla’s hair, smoothing a stray curl. “Be good for Grandpop.”

Layla nodded and rushed back to Grandpop. He winked at Ariella.

“Thanks, Grandpop,” she said.

“My pleasure. It’s good to see a child in the house again.” Grandpop stopped by Joey. “Take care, eh, Joseph. See you soon.” It wasn’t a question so much as a command. He and Layla walked into the house.