Believe (San Francisco Brides Series Book 2) Page 8

  Lorenzo followed the two out, into the living room. The euphoria of ten minutes before was crushed, replaced by a sinking pit in his stomach. But he smiled when he saw Lita. She rose and hugged him. He caressed the small of her back and inhaled. The feeling lifted him again. They sat in the oversized sofa chair, pressed close together. She put her head on his shoulder and held his hand. He didn’t care that Uncle Carlo, Lee, and his cousins grimaced at him or shook their heads. He had Lita. They would finally be together.

  ***

  “We need to set a date,” he said when they sat in the living room alone after dinner. Some of the family were still there, in the kitchen.

  “If you want.” She twined her fingers in his.

  “I want you happy.” When they were alone like this, Lita’s softness close, he almost believed they would be.

  “I am. Sophia said we should call Father Grihalva soon. The church gets booked fast.”

  “Church? What?” He shifted, but Lita didn’t move.

  “I’m Catholic.”

  “Okay. So, where are you sleeping tonight?” He eased his hand a little higher on her stomach.

  “In my room.”

  “You could come back to my apartment—” He wanted to show her how they could be together. And he needed to know her, every part of her.

  “No.” She sat up and smoothed her skirt.

  “How about I stay in the guest room here? The bed is comfortable.” Big enough for two.

  “Sounds like Sophia and Carlo are leaving.” She got up.

  He exhaled. This was not going how he’d imagined.

  Once everyone left, Uncle Enzo wouldn’t.

  “I’m tired.” Lorenzo glanced at Lita. “Why don’t—”

  “We’ll see you tomorrow, perhaps?” Uncle Enzo said.

  “Lita and I need to talk.”

  Uncle Enzo raised an eyebrow but Lorenzo stood still.

  “Thank you for accepting this,” Lita said before she kissed Uncle Enzo’s cheek. “I’ll see Lorenzo out.”

  “Very well,” Uncle Enzo said.

  He and Lorenzo exchanged goodbyes and Uncle Enzo went into his sitting room. He left the door open. Lorenzo blew out a breath. He took Lita’s hand and kissed it.

  “Let’s talk upstairs. It’s more private.”

  “I’m tired too. Can’t we talk tomorrow?”

  “Sure.” He grabbed her and kissed her until she melded herself into him. He gripped her hand and moved toward the stairs.

  “Lita,” Uncle Enzo called. She stopped. Lorenzo tilted his head to the ceiling. “Do you know where I left my reading glasses?” He walked into the foyer and gave Lorenzo a fake surprised look.

  Lorenzo frowned, his special you are on my list frown, one he’d learned from Uncle Enzo.

  “Have you checked your study?”

  Uncle Enzo shook his head and went into the other room.

  “Do you want to have breakfast with us?” Lita said.

  “Will I be here that early?” Lorenzo grinned.

  “Make it lunch, then.” She walked to the door. “Noon.”

  He nodded then kissed her as Uncle Enzo walked past. She didn’t let go of his hand until Uncle Enzo placed his hands on her shoulders. They all said goodnight. Lorenzo drove home. Alone. He shook his head. Their wedding needed to happen sooner than the church would allow. Six months, if he remembered right. He’d have to check. He had a long night ahead.

  ***

  They were alone before lunch the next day, sort of. Celeste was at D’Angelo’s Market and Uncle Enzo went into his study to make some phone calls. Not that it mattered, as Lita wiped down the counters while Lorenzo stood nearby, waiting to make his move.

  “Uncle Enzo gave me Father Grihalva’s number. I thought you could call since you’ve known him longer.” She sounded nervous, a high edge in her voice.

  “We could get married at the courthouse next week.” He eased his hand along the counter toward hers.

  “I know, but I want to get married in the church. We’ve never even been on a real date. You know what I mean.” Lita wiped the same area of the counter in small circular movements.

  Lorenzo stepped closer to her. Her vanilla scent swirled around him. “We don’t need to date to be sure we’re in love.” They’d known each other fourteen years. He’d told her things he’d never told another woman. Now if she’d keep trusting him…

  “Uncle Enzo said—” She stopped, folded the towel, and fiddled with her hair.

  Lorenzo tensed. Uncle Enzo—who knows what he’d said to Lita. Something to make her not want to look him in the eyes. He needed her to believe in him, needed to have her near, needed her in his bed.

  He stepped closer and grasped her hands. Keeping hold with one hand, he cupped her chin with his other hand, forcing her gaze to meet his.

  “You’re marrying me. Not my family.” Her fingers strained to free themselves, but he wouldn’t let go. “I love you. I need you as my wife. Grandpop knows a judge—we could get married here at home.” He caressed her cheek. She softened under his touch. “Later, we can get the marriage blessed.”

  “How do you know?” Her voice sang with trust, hope.

  “I researched it all last night.” When he couldn’t sleep, thinking of Lita.

  “You did? I thought you didn’t care about the wedding,” Lita whispered, leaning into him.

  “I want to marry you. Is it wrong that I don’t want to wait six months? Do you?”

  She fingered his collar. “I…” She gazed at him, uncertainty crinkling her brow.

  He captured her lips with his, deepening their kiss until Lita wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her body flush with his. Heat coursed through him. Pushing out a breath, he gently pulled away.

  “I don’t want to wait.”

  “Is that a yes?” he said.

  “Yes,” she said. He let his fingers travel with his gaze, over her blushing cheeks, following the flush of delicate color down her neck, onto her chest. Soon, her whole body would say yes to him. His body rushed with the thought of her under him. Lita stepped back, darting her eyes and clasping her hands. She’d been responsive before. Now she seemed nervous again, as if she thought he’d hurt her. His neck ratcheted tighter.

  “I’ll call Grandpop.” He titled his neck side to side.

  Lita nodded, her arms loose at her sides, as if she didn’t know what to do with herself. He kissed her forehead and strode out to call Grandpop.

  ***

  Lita rubbed her engagement ring as she watched Lorenzo walk out of the kitchen. Though having a church wedding was important to her, what she really wanted was to be Lorenzo’s wife. She just wasn’t sure she was ready, for the intimacy that would bring. It didn’t help to have almost everyone she trusted—besides Lorenzo—telling her Lorenzo wouldn’t be able to change. This whole meeting later with a business associate of Lorenzo’s father wasn’t reassuring either. But she’d baked him a cake, as Grandpop had asked. She didn’t like to disappoint.

  She also didn’t want to be a disappointment to Lorenzo—he’d been with so many women, and she hadn’t ever gone much further with any man than she had with Lorenzo. At first, the delight of being with him had outweighed her fears. But now they crept in, dark spiders crawling across her skin, making her want to shiver and run.

  Lita opened the refrigerator, checking to see if it needed to be reorganized. She needed something to get her to stop thinking too much.

  Celeste walked into the kitchen. Lita shut the refrigerator door.

  “Hello, dear.” Celeste smiled, giving Lita a quick hug. Lita took Celeste’s coat and hung it in the closet near Uncle Enzo’s study. The study door was closed. Lita paused, her hand on the closet door.

  “Are you well?” Celeste said.

  Lita nodded and followed Celeste into the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Coffee would be lovely.” Celeste slid into a seat at the table. Lita brought her a cup of coffee. T
he cream and sugar were already out on the table. Lita sat next to Celeste, who stirred sugar and milk into her coffee.

  “Weddings are happy, but they can be so overwhelming too. Marriage is a lifetime.” Celeste’s tone, like her expression, was gentle and reassuring.

  “I’m so glad you’re here. I never knew my grandmothers. Gina’s lucky to have you.” Lita’d only known her Grandpa Lawson—her mother’s father—and he’d died when Lita was seven.

  “I’m here for you, too.” Celeste patted her hand.

  Lita tried to smile. “Lorenzo and I are getting married here. Lorenzo’s arranging it now. It’s all happening so fast.” Lita circled her finger on a whorl in the wooden tabletop.

  “When I married my Frank, I was young and inexperienced. I loved him very much, but I was so afraid. On our wedding night, I hid in the bathroom until Frank cajoled me out.” She smiled.

  Lita exhaled and smiled back. “I love Lorenzo, more than anyone else.” Lita gripped the table edge. “But I’ve had bad experiences…it’s hard to trust.” Harder to trust her own judgment, when it came to men.

  “Yet you are open to others, to love. I believe you and Lorenzo will find happiness together. I’ve known him all his life, knew his mother. She would have loved you.” She squeezed Lita’s hand.

  “Uncle Enzo told me she used to talk about me sometimes. I met her once, at Lorenzo and Lee’s college graduation.”

  “She was a sweet woman, who saw goodness in others.”

  “I want to do that too…” Sometimes, though, what she wanted to see had made her overlook what was really there. But not with Lorenzo…she hoped.

  “Seeing goodness is a miracle, one of those little things that helps us move through life’s tragedies and darkness.”

  “This is quite a discussion,” Uncle Enzo said as he and Lorenzo walked in.

  Celeste beamed a smile.

  “I’m glad you’re home,” Uncle Enzo said, sitting on the other side of Celeste.

  Lita hopped up to get the salads out of the refrigerator. Lorenzo moved to her side, helping her put everything on the table for lunch.

  “We’re all set. Judge Polito will marry us here on Saturday.” He placed his hand on the small of her back as she set the bread basket out. She straightened, forcing herself to breathe and stay focused on lunch, not on the barrage of fearful thoughts that swirled up, like so much litter on a windy day. She’d imagined a long engagement, plenty of time to learn about Lorenzo, and ways to please him, and herself.

  “Great,” she said. “I better find a dress.”

  “Gina and Paolo said they’d help with anything you need.”

  Lita nodded and they sat at the table. She served herself and ate, not really tasting anything. Grandpa Lawson’s old saying looped through her mind: “Slowly but slowly—faster means disaster.”

  Chapter Nine

  Lita gripped the pink cake box. Lorenzo stood next to her. Grandpop rang the doorbell outside the iron-gated house in the Richmond District. It reminded her of the house of one of her high school friends, where Lita had spent time before she’d transferred to boarding school. Her friend’s family was traditional, Italian, eating big Sunday dinners, laughing and teasing each other, treating Lita like one of the family. When Lita used to go back to Jane’s from an overnight at her friend’s, she’d shut herself in her room and write everything down, so she could remember the kind of family she wanted to build. Even then, Lorenzo had been part of her dreams.

  The burly man who’d been at Lorenzo’s apartment the other day opened the door. He nodded to them. Lita noticed a gun holster pressed against the man’s ample side. She edged closer to Lorenzo.

  “Grandpop.” Lorenzo stopped. “Lita should wait in the car.”

  “No. Uri expects to meet her.” Grandpop walked down the hall.

  Lita swallowed and nibbled on the inside of her lip for a moment. Nothing stopped the roiling feeling in her stomach, like she got on a turbulent airplane ride. Lorenzo placed his hand on her lower back. Her stomach settled. They followed Grandpop into a study, where a man about Uncle Enzo’s age sat in a chair behind a desk. He rose when he saw Lita. His belly rubbed against the desk and wobbled as he stood. It would have been comical, except the almost predatory, greedy look in his eyes, as well as the gun collection displayed behind his desk, sucked her smile before it could appear, like an old-style Dracula drained the blood from his victims.

  “Velcome.” He smiled, eyeing the cake box.

  Grandpop made introductions. Lita pressed herself into Lorenzo’s side. Even the man’s accent was vampirish.

  Grandpop slid the box from Lita’s hands and handed it to Volkov. Volkov placed it on the desk, opened it, and clapped his pudgy hands together. The noise cracked like a gun shot. Lita gripped Lorenzo’s hand. Lorenzo stood still, like a soldier at attention.

  As Volkov pulled the cake from the box, he murmured about the delicacy of the icing, the lightness of the cake.

  “I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Lorenzo’s whisper shimmered into her ear, an early-morning warm summer breeze.

  But that Lorenzo thought this man might hurt her…She bit her lip.

  “Did you look over the papers?” Grandpop eased into a chair opposite Volkov’s desk.

  “Yes.” Volkov plopped back into his seat and swiveled to the wall behind him. He pressed a buzzer and said something in Russian. He turned to them again. “If we sign, then seal with cake.”

  Lita leaned into Lorenzo. She exhaled. Her breath was shaky. Volkov banged his fist on the desk. Lita sucked in her breath. Her legs tensed, a cat ready to pounce—or run. Lorenzo slid his arm across her waist, pulling her close.

  “I say no to the addendums.” Volkov leaned back. “Shows lack of trust.”

  “The addendums are non-negotiable.” Grandpop stood. “You are the beneficiary in this deal. Lorenzo needs insurance. That is little to ask.”

  Lita opened her mouth. Her throat felt dry, as if the temperature had become too hot to bear. “May I have a glass of water, please?”

  Volkov’s stare snapped to her. “Of course, young lady. Lorenzo.” Volkov waved a hand toward a side table.

  Lorenzo released her and walked to the table, pouring her water from a pitcher.

  “Please, sit.” Volkov motioned to the chair next to Grandpop’s.

  Lita glanced at Lorenzo, who nodded. He handed her the glass. Lita thanked Lorenzo and Volkov and sat. Lorenzo stood behind her.

  Volkov studied her for a moment. “Engaged?” Lita nodded. “You must be an unusual woman, to have tamed Lorenzo Calabra.”

  She didn’t bother to comment on his last statement. Lorenzo wasn’t a wild animal to be tamed, but the implications of Volkov’s words disturbed her almost as much as the man himself.

  Volkov made a noise in his throat. He pushed an envelope forward. “Lorenzo, I agree to the terms…with the added caveat that you will answer to me if you hurt this beautiful girl.”

  Grandpop laughed. “Now we do agree, Uri.”

  Lita shifted in her seat. Lorenzo wouldn’t hurt her. Why did everyone she loved, and now strangers, think he would?

  “That won’t be a problem.” Lorenzo stepped to the desk and signed the papers. He slid them to Volkov, who did the same.

  A knock sounded. “Vvodit,’” Volkov said.

  An older maid, shaped like a pear, her cheeks thick, entered the room. She set a tray of napkins, plates and silverware on the desk. She smiled at Grandpop and hurried out.

  “Before we eat, let us finish.”

  “We are finished,” Lorenzo said.

  “Young lady,” Volkov stared at Lita. She swallowed. “You look. You be sure he is worthy of you.” He tried to hand her some photos.

  She bent forward, looking at the top one. She pressed her hand to her mouth. It was some woman, naked, on all fours on a bed, Lorenzo behind her, pulling her hair, his hand raised as if to smack her. He was naked. Oh, God. She closed her eyes.

  “Loo
k,” Volkov said again, his voice still calm and anticipatory, like a father who wants to show his daughter her birthday gift.

  She felt Lorenzo move behind her. Scuffling. She shook her head. It was photo-shopped. Yes, that must be it. But…She opened her eyes. The burly man held Lorenzo. Grandpop snatched the photos before Lita could see again. She breathed out.

  “You had no right,” Grandpop said, his voice angry but calm.

  “I did the same for my daughters, and granddaughters, when I had to. They thanked me, eventually. Young women these days, they must protect themselves. Knowledge is the way. That woman, she is the wife of Judge Dennis. There are hundreds of others. Your father kept close watch on you, Lorenzo.”

  Lita glanced at Lorenzo. His features twisted with rage, his skin reddening. She turned to Grandpop. She focused on her breath. Grandpop stepped to her and took her arm.

  “I’d like to go,” she said. Her voice surprised her in its calmness. “I hope you enjoy the cake, Mr. Volkov.”

  Her limbs ached slightly. She wanted that image out of her mind. She wanted Lorenzo to hold her, tell her it wasn’t him, tell her something to ease the ache. She wanted to not know about this kind of life, one with a gloss of normalcy covering a rotted core.

  “Thank you.” He rose. “Lorenzo, take your folder. I know about you, you see. I keep to myself, as long as you keep to yourself.” He motioned to the man who held Lorenzo.

  The man let go. Lorenzo shrugged his shoulders and smoothed his shirt. He grabbed the folder.

  Grandpop moved closer to Volkov. “My family is my business. I know about you, Uri. Our business is done.”

  Volkov nodded and sat. He pulled the cake toward him.

  They walked out, Lita beside Grandpop. Lorenzo’s footsteps sounded behind them. She blinked in the sunlight. Nico hopped from the car and held the car door for them. Lita sat and smoothed her skirt.

  “Everything okay?” Nico asked. His reflective sunglasses mirrored Grandpop’s frown.

  “Let’s go, eh?” Grandpop slid into the seat next to Lita.