By Any Other Name (17 page)

There was also a train station less than a block away.

Dante was quiet most of the ride, driving her straight to where she requested, no questions asked. It wasn't until they arrived at the pizzeria and Dante pulled in along the curb that he spoke up. "Really, sis? You can do so much better than that loser."

"Who?"

"Jackson."

She shot him a smile. "Who said I was meeting Jackson?"

Dante's eyes drifted across the street, to where Jackson lived, before he shook his head. "Just be careful, okay? Don't steal any cars."

"I won't."

"And call me. If you need a ride… if you need
anything
… just call me. Okay? I'm supposed to keep an eye on you all night, but well… I don't want to do it any more than you want me to. So just keep your ass out of trouble, and it'll keep
me
out of trouble."

"I promise," she said, genuinely meaning it. "There won't be any trouble tonight."

"Good. Have fun."

Genna climbed out of the car and strolled into the pizzeria, immediately taking a seat at the first empty booth along the window. She sat there, watching outside as her brother's car pulled into traffic.

After slowly counting to a hundred in her head, she got up and walked back out, heading straight for the train stop less than a block away.

Thirty minutes later, Genna stepped out into Soho, two blocks down from her destination. Keeping her head down, she swiftly navigated the streets, heading for The Place, as she pulled out her phone and dialed Matty's number. It rang, and rang, and rang as she caught sight of the faded sign of the sport's bar. She slowed as she neared it, hesitating on the corner near the parking garage.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice guarded, just as she was about to hang up.

"Hey," she said, her eyes darting around the neighborhood as she dodged past the bar and grabbed the other door, slipping into the stairwell leading to the upstairs apartment.

"Thought you bailed on me," he replied.

"Of course not," she said. "Just had a bit of a problem getting away from my brother. Where are you?"

"The Place."

"Inside of it or above it?"

"Above it," he said. "Why? Where are you?"

"In your stairwell."

As soon as those words were from her lips, she heard footsteps upstairs, the door opening. Matty appeared in the doorway, phone to his ear, a smile lighting his face when he spotted her. Genna stood there, at the bottom of the steps, gazing up at him. He wore the same thing he wore the day she first laid eyes on him, except in striking shades of gray and black this time instead of the warm tan and bright white. He looked dark, and sleek, and downright dangerous.

He ended the call, slipping the phone in his pocket, as he shut the door quietly behind him and sauntered toward her. His gaze swept over her body, scanning the length of her form, as he paused right in front of her.

"Well, well," he said, reaching out and grasping her hips, his hands seeming to instinctively find the curve of her ass as he pulled her toward him. "You look good enough to eat."

Heat overcame Genna's cheeks as she wrapped her arms around his neck, standing eye-to-eye with him with her heels on. She couldn't stop the blush from rushing down her neck and engulfing her body in tingles. "Thanks."

"I'm serious," he said, his husky voice not at all betraying his words. "I want to drag you upstairs and take that dress off of you right now." Leaning down, he kissed her neck, nipping at the skin near her shoulder. "With my teeth."

She shivered, her eyes closing briefly at the sensation. "Why don't you, then?"

"Because I promised you a date," he said, pulling back to look at her again, smiling softly as he nudged her chin. "Besides, my brother's home."

Her expression slowly fell, her eyes drifting past him toward the closed door.

"Don't worry," Matty said reassuringly when she dropped her arms from around him. "He's passed out, probably won't get up until the sun goes down."

He took her hand, linking their fingers together, and Genna's heart pitter-pattered in her chest at the sensation. Matty squeezed her hand as he pulled her toward the door, opening it and glancing around before leading her out. They strode past The Place, around the corner and to the parking garage. Genna kept her head down, gaze away, as Matty casually greeted the parking attendant near his car. Pulling out his keys, he pressed the buttons to unlock it and start the engine from afar.

She climbed inside the car, suddenly, strangely, nervous. Why? She wiped her sweaty palms along her thighs as she took a deep breath to steady herself when Matty got in behind the wheel.

"You okay?" he asked as he pulled out of the lot and weaved into traffic.

"Yeah, just, uh..." She shook her head. "I guess we're actually dating now, huh?"

He smiled softly. "Guess so."

There was no questioning where they were going, no surprise when he headed north. Genna relaxed a bit in the passenger seat, watching out of the side window as they sped along the GWB, and laughed when they passed into New Jersey.

"What's so funny?" Matty asked, casting her a quick glance.

"It's kind of fucked up that we have to cross state lines to
date
, isn't it?"

"Could be worse."

"How?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "Seriously, I want to know."

"Well, we could have to leave the
country
."

"That might be better," she muttered. "In that case, we'd be far away… away from them."

"Which
them
?"

"All of them," she said. "The whole lot of them, the Barsantis and the Galantes."

"You'd leave your family?"

She wavered, pondering his question. The silence was so pervasive that all she could hear for a moment was her own heartbeat thrashing in her ears. "I'd miss my brother, but yeah… I would. Honestly, Dante would have it a lot easier without constantly having to watch over me."

"Huh."

"What?" She eyed him warily. "Would you?"

Unlike her, he didn't hesitate. "I can't leave my family, Genna… not when they already left
me
a long time ago."

She gazed at him for a moment before reaching over and grasping his hand on the gearshift, entwining her fingers with his. His eyes left the road momentarily, distracted, as they settled on where they were connected.

Although she wondered, although she wanted nothing more than to hear his story, to hear his side of everything, to know what he knew, to see what he saw when he stepped back and observed everything, she said not a word the rest of the drive, letting the silence once more submerge the car. Matty drove through Jersey, toward his old house, but swung into a more commercial area, driving to a busy steakhouse. He parked the car, and Genna started to pull her hand away, but he grasped it tightly and pulled it to him, pressing a soft kiss on the back of her hand before finally letting go.

The steakhouse was busy, dozens of people packed in around the door, patiently waiting for tables. Genna sighed, looking around for somewhere to sit, when the hostess glanced over, taking note of their presence. Something flickered in her eyes, something akin to recognition.

Genna's stomach sunk.
Oh no
.

"Mr. Brazzi!" the hostess said, smiling. "Just one?"

"Two," Matty said, returning her smile as he motioned toward Genna. "I have a guest."

"Wonderful," the lady said, snatching up two menus. "Follow me."

Genna cast apologetic looks at the waiting diners, who appeared none too happy that they jumped ahead of the line. The hostess led them to a table in the far back, and Genna slid into a chair across from Matty.

"Brazzi?" she asked incredulously when they were left alone. "What's up with that?"

He smirked, opening his menu, but he scarcely even look at it. "It's my mother's maiden name. Savina Brazzi."

"Ah."

"I just took on the last name out here. Helped keep, you know,
certain
people
from finding me."

"Certain people, as in…?"

Matty didn't respond, but his expression was answer enough for her.

The Galantes.

"I still want to hear that story," she said, following his lead and opening her menu.

"What story?"

"The story of whatever my father did to you."

"Not tonight," he muttered. "I have plans for you, so I ought to keep trash talking about your family to a minimum."

"Plans, huh?"

He nodded as the waiter approached with wine and wordlessly poured a bit in both of their glasses before setting the bottle right on the table for them. Matty smirked as the man strode away. "How's that saying go? Wine you, dine you, sixty-nine you?"

Genna flushed at the husky notes in his voice, the gritty sound seeming to glide along her skin and make her hair bristle as she let out a shaky breath, unable to contain the grin that glossed her lips. "Is that right?"

"Unless, of course, you're not planning on coming out of that dress later," he said, his gaze burning through her once again, like he was drinking in her soul.

"Well, uh," she said, glancing down at herself. "I like this dress. I might wanna keep it on."

"Huh." Matty looked away from her, his gaze going back to his menu. "In that case, order something cheap."

Gasping, Genna thrust her leg out under the table to kick him when he laughed. Before she could think of something witty to say, or something to say at all, the waiter approached their table again. "Are you ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?"

"I'm ready," Matty said, closing his menu again and folding his hands on top of the table. "Genna?"

"I, uh…" She hadn't even looked at hers yet, and with the way Matty flustered her with just a simple stare, she wasn't sure she would
ever
get around to looking at it. And the way he breathed her name, emphasizing the 'a' at the end, the slight Jersey twinge in his voice accentuating it, nearly made her toes curl. "I'll just have the…" She peeked down at the menu, naming the first thing she saw. "…Classic sirloin. Well done."

"What size?" the waiter asked, jotting it down.

"Uh… ten," she said, closing her menu. "The ten-inch one."

Before it was even entirely from her lips, Matty let out a sharp bark of strangled laughter he'd clearly struggled to contain. The waiter stood motionless, his surprised gaze flickering to her briefly, before he shook his head and finally jotted something down.

"What?" Genna asked, glancing at Matty curiously. What the hell was so funny?

"Ten inches, huh?" Matty picked up his glass and motioned toward her with it. "Maybe we could've skipped the
wine-ing
portion of the plan. You might already be good to go."

That cracked the waiter's serious façade as he chuckled. Genna opened her mouth to ask him what the hell he was talking about but froze when it struck her:
the ten-inch one
. Mortified, she covered her face.
Oh, God
.

The waiter cleared his throat. "And for you, sir?"

"I'll have the same," Matty said, taking her menu from her and handing both back to the waiter. "The ten-
ounce
steak, though."

"I'll have it right out to you."

The waiter couldn't seem to scurry away fast enough. As soon as he was out of earshot, Genna groaned and dropped her head to the table, knowing her face was bright red. "I can't believe I said that."

"I can."

Lifting her head back up, she narrowed her eyes at him, seeing his lips twitching from amusement as he took a sip from the glass of wine. She watched his throat muscles when he swallowed, oddly aroused at the bob of his Adam's apple, and nearly missed the painful grimace that contorted his face when he set his glass back down.

"What's wrong?" she asked, picking up her own glass and taking a sip, savoring the bitter tang on her tongue. "You can drink rum straight, no problem, but a little wine is too much for you?"

"It's disgusting."

"Oh, quit bitching and drink it."

Matty raised an eyebrow at her when she spoke. "You sound just like my mother."

Genna balked at that. His mother? "You're comparing me to a Barsanti?"

"Technically, she's a Brazzi. And need I remind you, I'm—"

"You're a Barsanti," she said. "Well aware, thanks."

"Besides, my mother's not like the rest of them. Or I guess I should say the rest of
us
. She's different. She always has been. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't have ever gone back to the city."

"And afterward?" Genna asked hesitantly. "When she's, well… you know… what then? You'll leave again?"

Matty gazed at her for a moment. "Haven't thought about it."