Thank you to 2brown-eyes, ceceprincess1217, gabby1017, and DICATAKADD for pre-reading, and to SunflowerFran for editing. Any remaining mistakes are my own ... especially since I fiddled with it after she worked on it. ;)
Songs for this chapter Smoke Gets In Your Eyes by The Platters and Bim, Bam, Baby by Frank Sinatra
Chapter 7
Bella
"I'm so glad you could come, Bella!" Rosalie links her arm with mine as we walk toward the exit, our bags from Kaufmann's Department Store, also known as The Big Store, in our other hands.
"I'm glad I did, too." I smile, something I'm doing more and more of lately. The whole day has been nice; starting with breakfast at Margaret's house and then a drive into downtown for shopping and some lunch.
Margaret's mother was completely enamored with EJ; so much so, she offered to watch him while the three of us went out for the day. Though hesitant at first, I eventually relented and left my son in her care. After we left, it took me nearly an hour to get past my anxiety, but I eventually did.
"And I'm sure good 'ole Eddie will be glad, too. He should be impressed with the lacy little number you picked up," Rosalie says just loud enough for the three of us to hear, waggling her eyebrows. Margaret just laughs from Rosalie's other side, making me blush as we walk.
"Oh, look at that," Margaret teases. "Sweet little Bella is embarrassed about what she bought for her man." She reaches across Rosalie's middle to squeeze my arm. "I'm sorry, hon. Just a little good-natured fun, that's all. You're the only one of us gals who are married, so we gotta live vicariously through you." She leans closer. "It's not like we can buy fancy nightgowns for our fellas. They're lucky if we have time to whip off our skirts," she says with a wink.
"All right," Rosalie interrupts. "I think poor Bella's had about all she can take for the day. Judging by her cheeks, she might spontaneously burst into flames right here on Smithfield Street." Her laughter is contagious, and soon we're all giggling as we step out onto the sidewalk.
We all pull our coats tighter around us, and I reach into my handbag to find my gloves, but come up empty.
"Shoot," I whisper.
"What's wrong?" Rosalie asks.
"I must've left my gloves on the sales counter when I paid for my last few things."
"Which department were you in?" Margaret asks.
I stare at her until realization dawns on her, and then she starts giggling. "A little flustered as you were buying that sexy little number?"
"Oh, stop it. I was not," I insist, though another blush breaks out on my face along with a small smile, making Rosalie join in the laughter. "Okay, okay, maybe I was a little flustered," I finally admit. "I'll just run back up and hope they're still there." I turn to walk back inside when Rosalie calls after me.
"Do you want us to come along?"
"No," I yell back. "It should only take me a few minutes. Why don't you two go start the car and get the heat going?"
"If you're sure?" she asks.
"I'm sure," I say with a smile.
The heat is a welcome sensation as I walk through the doors and back inside. I hop onto the escalator to take me to the sixth floor and eventually make my way to the Satin Sleep Shop department. The sales girl is assisting another customer at the counter, so I wait patiently for her to be done, but the sound of giggling and a lightly accented voice coming from behind me gets my attention.
"I don't know why he is so reluctant, but I am determined to get his attention," the blonde says to her redheaded companion.
"Is it really worth all that trouble? You could have anyone you want, Tanya."
"And I want him," she says with conviction. "I have been watching him for weeks, and there is just something about him." Her voice lowers even more, and I strain to eavesdrop. "The quiet ones are always very attentive."
I smile to myself, thinking of how my own husband is quiet, yet passionate, especially in recent days. And I can't wait to see his reaction to the lingerie I bought today as a gift of sorts for our first wedding anniversary. I'm careful not to let them see my expression, though.
"You know he's married," the other woman says, interrupting my thoughts, causing me to turn and raise my eyes to them.
The blonde, Tanya, merely shrugs her shoulders. "It is a minor inconvenience. It is not like I want him to leave his wife. Besides, I would never want to tie myself to only one man," she scoffs. "What is the fun in that? I only want to have him and move on to the next one." Her peripheral vision catches me looking their way, and I quickly look back to the sales counter.
They then choose to speak more quietly, which is probably for the best anyway. It only takes another moment for the sales girl to finish with the customer ahead of me. Thankfully, she recognizes me right away, and I'm able to collect my forgotten gloves.
The hum of conversation of the wedding guests and their laughter barely registers over the band playing. They've done a good job of keeping dancers on the floor, choosing the sounds of Sinatra and Bennett more so than current pop songs for those in attendance. It's a direct reflection of Uncle Tony's tastes, I would think, but people seem to be enjoying themselves.
They've spared no expense for the lavish affair, and I feel somewhat out of place amongst the crowd in my relatively plain attire. My navy blue, white polka dot dress is fitted at the belted waist, flaring out into a full skirt. I've brought along a sweater since its almost-off-the-shoulder style exposes my collarbones, and the short sleeves offer me little warmth on this still chilly April day. Other than my wedding ring, I'm also wearing my favorite piece of jewelry; the string of pearls, which were a gift from Edward on our first anniversary, not quite two months ago. Compared to the other women, dressed in their sleek, elegant dresses, wearing their diamonds and fur stoles, I feel like a child playing dress-up in comparison.
"What has you so lost in thought?" my husband whispers in my ear, his voice deep and his breath warm against the skin of my neck. His fingertips gently trace along the top of my shoulder.
I turn to look into his piercing green eyes and smile. "Nothing important." I turn back to watching the people dancing. "Just wishing they'd play something a little more current."
"Oh? You sayin' you'd dance with me if you liked the music?" His crooked grin is teasing.
"I might," I tease in reply.
"I'll be right back." He kisses the side of my head quickly and stands, walking away and disappearing into the crowd.
With those seated at our table leaving just as soon as dinner was cleared, Edward walking away leaves me in an all too familiar state; alone. I sip from my glass of wine and watch the people milling around, taking note of the eclectic mix of guests in attendance. More than anything, I wish Mrs. Cullen was here. I know she'd make me feel more at ease around these people.
The longstanding rift between her and her brother, not to mention the one between him and her husband, was enough to keep them from the reception. They did make an appearance at the ceremony, at least to appear polite, but left soon after, saying they needed to get back to the kids. I was sure Alice had everything under control, but knowing she would have her mother back to help her with EJ and little Jacob made me feel better about leaving our son with her.
Edward finally makes his way back to me and our otherwise empty table, a smirk on his face.
"What did you do?"
"Nothing," he answers, reaching for his wine glass and hiding his smile behind its contents as he brings it to his lips. I stare at him, willing him with my eyes to spill whatever it is he's hiding from me. When his eyes meet mine, he chuckles and puts an arm around my waist, pulling me closer.
"You'll find out soon enough."
I narrow my eyes at him.
"Promise." He kisses me on the cheek. "I heard they'll be making toasts soon, so after they're done, okay?"
"If you say so."
The toasts seem to go on forever. The best man, Maria's father, Mr. King, brothers, cousins, next door neighbors, I'm not even sure after a certain point who's speaking. I begin to block out their well wishes, content to watch my husband take it all in. He's had glass after glass of wine, I've lost count at this point of how many, and I can tell by the flush of his cheeks, he's a bit tipsy.
"Salute!" Mr. LaRocca's call over the gathered guests incites them all to join in cheering for the newly married couple at the end of his speech. He's the last to make a toast, and I for one can't be happier it's over.
I raise my glass, along with everyone else, while I eye the newlyweds. Edward's arm reaches around me, and he pulls me close, kissing the side of my head.
"That was us not too terribly long ago," he whispers into my ear. I don't have to look at him to know he's smiling. I'd like to think it's merely my company that's made him so affectionate, but I know the wine he's had is likely the cause.
"I'd like to think you and I looked happier on our wedding day." I turn to meet his eyes. "I'm not sure I've seen your uncle smile once at his new bride all day."
Edward exhales a heavy sigh, and the smile he's been wearing for the last hour or so falters for just a moment before he plasters a less believable one in its place. "He's just not a publicly affectionate guy, I guess." He shrugs his shoulders and brings his glass to his lips.
I breathe out a sigh of my own but don't press the issue. I've been around Uncle Tony enough to know what this marriage is—a business arrangement. My eyes scan the room and land on the bride's family. The Kings are an odd, intimidating bunch, all of them huddled together and only engaging those brave enough to step up to them to be introduced. The only interaction I've noticed the Kings initiating was their greeting to Mr. LaRocca.
As I look back at the young girl seated at Tony's side, probably not too many years older than me, sadness for what I know her life will be like fills my heart. As much as I hate Edward being gone at all hours of the day and night, as much as we argue and have had to work at our still-young marriage, at the end of the day, he comes home to me, and despite all the troubles we've had, I love him ... and he loves me in return. It makes all our struggles worth it.
I know without asking, the new Mrs. Mancini doesn't have that love to get her through the rough days she may have ahead of her.
I kiss Edward on the cheek as he places his glass on the table. "Then I'm a lucky girl. My husband has no problem showing me affection in public."
His fingers brush my hair over my shoulder, and he nuzzles into my neck, his lips a whisper away from the skin there. "How can I help myself when my wife is the most beautiful girl in the room?" He places a soft, lingering kiss on my shoulder, and I take a deep breath to calm myself.
"You can't do that when we're in a room full of people, Edward!" I whisper, my scolding only half-hearted.
He sits up straight in his chair, his grin and bright eyes meeting mine. "Of course I can. You're my wife." He stands and extends a hand to me. "And now, I'd like to show you off if you don't mind. Come on," he says with a side-nod of his head. "Let's dance."
With a smile on my face and an embarrassed shake of my head, I let him lead me to the dance floor. The band has been playing a mix of old and new music, and the notes of Smoke Gets In Your Eyes by The Platters fill the air as we step onto the floor. The familiar tune pricks my ears, and my eyes light up.
"Did you ask them to play this?"
He shrugs, a slight grin on his face. "Might have." He sweeps me into his arms, swaying us to the music. "This sure brings back some memories, doesn't it?"
"Maybe," I reply, a soft smile on my lips as I recall us dancing to this very song at the school dance he escorted me to shortly after he started courting me.
"You know, I think I knew that night you'd be the only girl for me."
"Yeah?" I ask in a whisper.
"Yeah." His arms hold me tighter, and I rest my head against his chest as he leads us.
"How did you know?"
"The moment I kissed you goodnight, I knew I couldn't live without you." His whispered reply comes just before his lips are on mine. At first, I'm shocked he'd show so much affection in front of his family, his employers, and the men he works with, but I'm quickly caught up in the moment and allow myself to enjoy it. It's a far cry from where we were just a few, short months ago.
While we've hit a few bumps in the road, that's all they've been—bumps. There have been late nights, days when EJ and I don't see him, and things he can't share with me, but I've decided if we're going to make things work, I need to keep my promise and not ask too many questions.
When he finally pulls away, I'm left in a kiss-induced fog with what I'm sure is a ridiculous smile on my face. His chuckle, though, is cut off when a voice from beside me asks to cut in.
"Mind if I have the next dance, Eddie? I'm sure my date here wouldn't mind giving you a twirl around the dance floor." I turn my head to see who's rudely interrupting our private moment. The man's smarmy grin instantly has my skin crawling, and I do my best to convey that with a look toward my husband, but the gesture is lost on him.
"Jimmy." Edward nods in greeting.
"So, what do ya say, Eddie? Can I cut in?"
With the look Edward gives me, I know I'm not in a position of declining ... and neither is he. This man must be someone important, or at least someone more important than us.
"Of course." My husband's timid reply makes me want to turn around and run. I can hear in the tone of his voice he'd rather not hand me over.
Edward lets me go and the other man, Jimmy, steps right into his place, his hands holding me just a little too tightly. It's not until he's swirled me around a time or two do I notice the beautiful redhead who's taken my place in Edward's arms.
"Name's Jimmy Amato." His smug smile is in full effect as if his name should mean something to me. I do recognize it—it's the same last name as the man my husband has been driving around for the last few months—but I refuse to acknowledge it. "It's nice to finally meet the revered Mrs. Cullen."
"Likewise," I say, distracted by the sight of the woman in Edward's arms. She looks vaguely familiar and far more comfortable than I'd like.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Cullen, Eddie there is in good hands with her."
I clear my throat and offer a tight smile. "I'm sure he is." I shake my head, just realizing what he's said. "And what do you mean revered?"
"Oh, just that your dear husband seems to have put you on a pedestal, which no other woman can possibly measure up to." He leans in close, and the distinct smell of liquor on his breath wafts past my nose. "But I can definitely see why." His gaze down the front of my dress lingers just a beat too long as he licks his lips, and I suddenly feel too exposed.
I ignore his blatantly inappropriate ogling and take a deep breath, determined to finish out the song, if only so I don't embarrass my husband.
"It sure would be a shame if Eddie did anything to lose you, ya know?" His voice lowers to a whisper. "Or anything that might bring you any harm." His gaze shifts back down my chest, and I squirm in his arms. "That would really be a shame." His eyes meet mine. "You're quite the catch."
I swallow hard and push away any feelings I have of fear, standing straighter, a sudden rush of bravado washing over me. "Why do I get the feeling that was a threat, Mr. Amato? And what exactly would he do to lose me? Do you know something I don't?"
My angry tone and narrowed eyes cause him to toss his head back and laugh, getting the attention of a few of the couples dancing nearby. "Oh, Mrs. Cullen ..." he says, shaking his head. "I never would've thought you had it in you." He holds me even closer, leaving mere inches between us. "Not too many people I know would speak to me in that tone of voice."
The band plays on, and I'm too distracted by the man leading me around to know what they're playing. I don't speak again, hoping he'll respond to my question.
He finally lets out a sigh. "I just heard some of the old timers have their eye on him. Said he needs to learn his place, learn how to keep his own house in order and stay in line. I'd just hate for you to get mixed up in that." He looks over his shoulder, scanning the crowd before turning back to me, leaning closer. "But I'm sure it's nothing."
The opening notes of Sinatra's Bim Bam Baby begin to play. It's a song I remember my foster parents, Peter and Charlotte, swirling around their front room dancing to as my sister, Angela, and I sat and watched. We would giggle when Peter would manage to dip Charlotte so low, her hair would brush the floor. It's one of my happier memories.
"How about we show 'em how it's done?"
Before I can refuse, I'm swept into his arms, and he leads us in a fast-paced dance, twirling and dipping me. His hands take every opportunity to grip me at the hip, the waist, and at least once brushing the side of my breast as we move. Every one of my instincts is screaming at me to shove him away, but if I do, I know I'd embarrass my husband in front of all the men he works with.
Our dance finally ends when the final notes play from the stage, and as I try to catch my breath, Jimmy lasciviously stares down at me, his own chest heaving. He reaches for my hand, and before I can pull it away from him, his lips kiss my knuckles.
"Thanks for the dance, Mrs. Cullen. That was far more fun than I thought it would be." He's still breathing hard when Edward reappears at our side. My husband's eyes are blazing, but he only whispers a thank you when Jimmy places my hand back where it belongs.
"Thanks for letting me take her for a spin, Eddie." His gaze once again travels the length of my body. "You're a lucky man." He turns as if to walk away, but stops short, standing shoulder to shoulder with my husband, not quite making contact. His words are barely loud enough for me to hear over the music coming from the band, so I strain to listen. "You better watch yourself, Cullen. My uncle says you might need some incentive to keep you in line and remind you how things work." Jimmy turns his head just slightly, and Edward meets his gaze. "And I'd be happy to be the one to do it."
The band strikes up the next song, and the dancers surrounding us keep going while I'm frozen in place.
"What do you say we head outta here and go home, huh? Enjoy our night without any interruptions from EJ?" Edward's question snaps me out of my daze, and I hesitate.
My eyes flash in the direction of where Jimmy and the redhead just wandered off to before I look back at him. "Is everything okay, Eddie?"
"Everything's fine." He pulls me into his arms, and my hands rest on his chest. "Can't I just want to enjoy the night with my wife? Some alone time before we have to pick up our son tomorrow?"
His deflection sends a chill up my spine. He's gotten better at hiding his true feelings and emotions when it comes to anything work-related—learned how to school his expression—but I've also gotten better at reading him.
The tense set of his shoulders and the tightness of his jaw tell me he's angry. His trembling arms and the rapid beat of his heart under my palms tell me he's afraid.
I glance once more at the man who incited such a response from my husband, seeing the woman hanging off his arm. A nagging feeling that I know her from somewhere won't go away, but before I can figure out where, I'm being led toward the coatroom of the hotel to get Edward's overcoat.
It's not until we're driving home, through the streets of Pittsburgh, that I remember where I saw the woman; in the lingerie department of Kaufmann's speaking to the blonde who wanted someone else's husband.
The Boy
I knew Jimmy's indirect threat wasn't an empty one, but what could I do? It's not like I could attack the guy for threatening my wife, or even have words with him. His uncle wouldn't have thought twice about taking me out back and putting a bullet in my brain. The fact we were at my uncle Tony's wedding wouldn't have changed that. I was left with no choice but to be a pussy and let it roll off my back, choosing instead to distract my wife by taking her home.
When we made love that night, I was almost desperate in my need to assure myself that she was okay, that Jimmy Amato's threats didn't mean anything. The way she allowed me to hold her so tightly, handle her almost roughly, told me she knew I needed that reassurance. I laid awake all night, holding her in my arms and thinking about how fucked up my life has turned out, how my simple plan to make enough money to support us, to give us a good life, seems to have blown up in my face.
I thought I'd been able to find my niche in the organization that would keep my hands clean, but I've only found a way to piss off the men who run the show.
If someone had asked me back then if the men I work for would get so offended by my asking for a new gig, for leaving a meeting without being dismissed, and for turning down the attention of some whore, I would have laughed in their face. But when Jimmy stepped up to dance with my wife and threatened me before walking away, I knew it was a clear message.
You don't disrespect Mr. LaRocca and Mr. Amato by turning down their generosity, be it with their time or a job—especially not in public.
Driving Mr. Amato to a meeting just two days after Tony's wedding, the atmosphere is even more tense than usual. He hasn't said a word to me since I picked him up this morning, and he's been staring at me through the rearview mirror. It's making me increasingly uneasy, and I fidget in my seat, constantly adjusting my tie as I drive us through the city.
"Your uncle is a respected friend of ours," he says out of the blue.
I don't respond, instead, choosing to stay silent, though my heart starts pounding, and sweat forms at the back of my neck.
"You've been driving for me for what? Five, six months?"
"Yes, sir."
He turns his head to watch the passing scenery. "You've done a good job for me, you know?" He shakes his head then turns it to meet my glance in the mirror. "But the way you acted at the club that night ... the way you disrespected my good friend ..." He sighs and shakes his head. "It's been eating away at me for months."
"I'm sorry, sir." My words come out almost in a croak. "I—"
He raises his hand to cut off my apology. "Your uncle apologized on your behalf. And to tell you the truth, I've had men killed men for lesser snubs, so you have him to thank for the fact you're still breathing." He folds his hands in his lap, relaxing back into his seat. "And just so you know, this isn't about you turning down pussy, Eddie, which I gotta say, that broad's ain't the best, but that's besides the point. This is about respect, about how you show it to Mr. LaRocca and me. You need to remember your place."
We've neared our destination, and I pull up to the curb, my pulse still pounding. I move to open my door, fumbling with the handle, but Mr. Amato's hand lands on my shoulder, holding me in my seat.
"It was a favor to Tony to have you drive for me, and another to him to leave you be. And I left it alone; what, with his nuptials coming up and all. But now that's all over and done. I don't offer favors often, and I never offer second chances." He shifts himself closer, his words spoken directly into my ear. "Don't screw it up and make me regret it."
He opens his own door and steps out onto the curb, disappearing into the building. I'm left wondering what just happened; how my hasty retreat from the club that night led to Amato making sure I understand where I stand with LaRocca and the Organization.
A/N: How are we feeling? Bumpy roads ahead for our boy and his girl, so buckle up. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter and theories about what's next for them.
Thanks for all the love you've shown this story, even though it's a rough one. I'm struggling to reply to reviews, guys. Please know if I didn't respond, I have read each and every one, and they all mean so much.
Hopefully, I will have some exciting news in the next couple of weeks, so stay tuned! For up to date info, please join me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I share exclusive weekly teasers and offer you the chance to chat about how frustrated you are with this boy and Bella. ;)
See you next week!
Lots of love,
Sunshine