Endings & Beginnings (New Mafia Trilogy #3) (7 page)

DOMINIC

The incident with Frankie ate at me throughout the
evening and it needed to be nipped immediately so I followed my parents’ house.
My brother Anthony was spending the night at Uncle Al’s house and I waited
until my mom went upstairs with my sister before confronting my dad. We went
into his office that was located at the back of the house off of the kitchen.

My dad took off his tie and hung it on the back of
his chair. Along the wall behind his desk was a mini bar. Grabbing a glass, he
poured himself two fingers of bourbon then sat down. He gestured for me to take
a seat, but I declined, choosing to pace instead.

   “Dad, did you tell Frankie to follow me?”

   “Yes, I asked him to keep tabs on you – strictly
as a precaution.”

   “What the hell? I told you no for extra security
and you deliberately undermined my decision. I know you’re my dad, but you
can’t do that shit as far as the business goes if I’m to maintain any level of
respect.”

   “Dominic, what if you were jumped in the alley
tonight. You were unarmed and had Natalie with you. What would you have done?”

I stopped pacing and placed my hands flat on the
desk, leaning forward.    “Nothing happened and I’m not going to live my life
worried about “what if” scenarios. I might as well never leave my fucking condo
if that’s the case.”

   “The moment you became the Don, the target on
your back got a lot bigger. You might not have any issues now, but there’s
always someone looking to take out the person on top. That person is you,
Dominic,” he emphasized this by pointing at me, “and you’re not invincible.”

We had this argument already and we could argue in
circles all night. Pushing away from the desk, I continued pacing and ran a
hand through my hair. “Dad, you need to support my decisions, not go around my
back and do what you want.”

He took a sip of bourbon, watching me over the top
of his glass. Setting his drink down, he leaned back in the chair, clasping his
hands over his stomach.

   “Why do you fight me on this? It’s for your own
safety.”

   “Dad, there was a lot of bloodshed these past few
months and I’m trying to keep us under the radar. If I parade about the city
with a soldier following me around or an entourage, I draw attention to myself,
and play right into the stereotype just like Uncle Marco did.”

He sighed and scratched at the stubble growing on
his chin. “I’ll back off for now, but if you’re so determined to not be like
Marco, you need to start listening to your consigliore. Marco never did.”

   “I definitely take everything you say under
advisement, Dad. Let’s compromise, if things heat back up again or there is a
viable threat, I’ll bring in protection.”

   “Compromise,” he said with a smile, “now that is
a concept Marco wasn’t familiar with.” He stood and walked around his desk.
“You’re hard headed, but you have a natural instinct for this business. I
didn’t mean to undermine your decision. I’m proud of you, son.” We hugged it
out before I left to head home.

I entered my condo and flicked on the lights.
Grabbing a beer out of the fridge, I crossed the living room to the sliding
doors that led to the deck and sat down on one of the chairs. Kicking my feet
up on the railing, I leaned back to stare at the stars. My thoughts weren’t on
the wedding or on business, they were consumed by Natalie. Just having her
around wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted her back and knew I had to tread
carefully when we finally had time alone to talk. I sat there well into the
early morning planning Sunday out. I had two options for her and I hoped one of
them was enough to get her to move back to Philadelphia. Once she was back, we
could work on us.

Any sign of violence and I knew Natalie would bolt
so I said a silent prayer that there wouldn’t be any surprises during the rest
of her stay to remind her why she left in the first place.

Natalie

It was after ten in the morning when I woke up and immediately
reached for my cell phone that was charging on the bedside table. I had eight
new text messages. Miranda had sent a panicked group text to the bridal party
at 2:18 a.m. reminding us to not wash our hair. Apparently dirty hair styled
better and since we were all getting up do’s this was critical. Everyone else
had responded except for me, which prompted Miranda to send a follow up text. I
quickly fired off a response to help the pregnant bride remain calm:

           
Just woke up – don’t worry, hair is
dirty.

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky or a trace of
humidity in the air when my mom and I stepped outside of our hotel. It was a
perfect day for a wedding. A black Town Car was waiting out front to take us to
the salon. The ceremony wasn’t until later so we had over three hours of hair,
nails and make-up ahead of us.

We were the last to arrive since there was a car
accident on Front Street that had traffic backed up for at least a mile. The
front desk person immediately jumped into action and sat my mom down in a
pedicure chair while I was ushered to a manicuring station next to Miranda.

   “Hey, how are you holding up?” I asked.

   “Tired, I couldn’t sleep.”

   “Nervous?”

   “Not really – more excited than anything and I’ve
gotten used to sleeping next to Grant. It was weird not having him home last
night.”

I nodded in understanding. An empty bed took some
adjusting to once you were used to sharing with someone.

Miranda’s manicurist moved her to the next station.
We were part of an assembly line of beautification and hours later emerged
polished, coiffed and slightly high from all of the fumes.

A white stretch limousine waited out front, blocking
traffic. Horns were being blasted and a few drivers had their heads out of the
window yelling. We quickly climbed in and were off to the church where our
dresses and shoes were already set aside in one of the Sunday school classrooms
in the basement. Grant and his groomsmen were getting ready at Al’s house to
avoid any chance of Grant seeing Miranda before the ceremony. 

I quickly slipped on my dress and heels, making sure
my hair and make-up survived unscathed. Bianca asked me to help zip her dress
while CiCi fussed with Miranda. Allegra ignored me. My mom came out of the
bathroom in her dress, a two piece number in a lovely shade of silvery gray.
The satin skirt was floor length and slightly longer in the back giving the
effect of a small train. The top had crystals that caught the light and
sparkled.

   “Mom, you look beautiful,” I said. This was the
most formally dressed I had ever seen her. She was usually business casual
during the week and jeans and sneakers on the weekend.

   “Thanks, Nat. You look beautiful too.” Her eyes
darted to the scar on my shoulder, but she didn’t ask any more questions about
it.

Miranda’s mom wore a similar style dress, but it was
in a deep red and instead of sparkles, the bodice had intricate black and white
embroidery.

The two flower girls, Isabella and Sofia, young
cousins of Miranda, were adorable in their white dresses that looked like
clouds with all of the layers of tulle. The bottom layer was sewn to hold rose
petals, the same red as the bows around their waists.

Bouquets were handed out. Gorgeous clusters of red,
white and cream roses tied with black and gray ribbon that matched the bow on
Miranda’s dress. Each flower girl was given a basket full of red rose petals.
Before we knew it, it was four o’clock and the wedding coordinator was
gathering us together so we could get into position.

Paulina and my mom left first to take their seats
then Miranda went up the stairs and we followed suit. Uncle Al was waiting just
outside of the stained glass doors that led to the sanctuary and his eyes
misted up when he saw his niece.

   “Miranda, you are a sight to behold,” he said as
he reached for her hand. He hooked her arm through his and kissed her forehead,
lightly crushing the veil.

Dante, Joey D. and Paulie were all waiting outside
too and they looked so nice in their tuxedos. They were classic black with
white cummerbund and ties. Their boutonnières were red roses.  Joey D. kept
fidgeting with his bow tie and his sister, CiCi swatted his hand away so she
could straighten it.

When the opening chords for our procession started
we all stopped and quickly got into formation. The groomsmen slipped through
the doors first to make their way down the aisle then I got in line behind
Allegra. It was timed perfectly so we were spaced apart. Both sides of the pews
were filled and the music from the small orchestra in the balcony overhead
resonated through my body like it was a tuning fork. My smile faltered only
once and that’s when I saw Dom, only because he made me forget everything, such
as breathing. He was standing next to Grant at the end of the aisle and defined
the term devastatingly handsome. His dark hair was combed into submission and
the jacket made his shoulders look even broader. I remembered exactly what his
clothes concealed and that made me even more flustered. Dom winked at me as if
he knew what I was thinking. Forcing my eyes away, I focused on walking so I
didn’t biff it and land a face plant in front of everyone.

I reached my position and stood across from Dante,
turning to see Cici approaching with the ring bearer right behind. He was
another young cousin of Miranda’s and was the cutest little thing in his
tuxedo. He tottered along slowly, staring up at all of the people standing in
their pews. At one point he started walking toward someone only to be quickly
steered away from the pew and put back on course, triggering a ripple of
laughter. Next the flower girls came, tossing rose petals in their wake.
Isabella flung the rose petals freely, skipping and twirling while Sofia’s
movements were deliberate as she concentrated hard on taking her role
seriously.

Just as the flowers girls reached the first pew and
were hoisted onto laps, the orchestra switched to Pachelbel Canon in D and all
eyes were on the back of the church.

The stained glass doors parted and Miranda escorted
by Uncle Al, stepped into the sanctuary. I heard Grant gasp and quickly looked
over to find him on the verge of crying as he stared intently at his bride. I
glanced at my mom and although her back was facing me, the tissue she clutched
in her hand occasionally rose to her face, indicating she was crying too. In a
visceral response, a lump in my throat formed and my eyes filled. Blinking
rapidly, I focused on Miranda instead of my suddenly emotional family members.
This helped keep the tears at bay and I almost made it through the ceremony
until Grant and Miranda exchanged their vows.

Dominic gave Grant the wedding band and without his
eyes leaving Miranda’s, took her left hand in his. I was expecting simple vows
since Grant’s more a man of action than words. Instead, what he said was pure
poetry.

   “Miranda, you are my heart, my soul, and my light
during dark times. You know when to push me and when to hold me back. Every
morning I wake with you by my side is the beginning of the best day of my life.
I can’t wait to wake up next to you for the rest of our life together. I
promise to honor you, respect you, protect you, cherish you and I will always
love you no matter what obstacles come our way.”

At this point, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house
and I gave up trying to hold back the tears.  Then it was Miranda’s turn. She
took the wedding band from Dominic and laced her fingers through Grant’s.

   “Grant, you surprise me every day with something
new, yet I feel like I’ve known you forever. When you walked into my world,
little did I know how much you would rock it and in such an amazing way. You
hold me when I need to be held. You believe in me and give me the space I need
to grow. I feel safe and loved in your arms. You are my rock, my champion, my
compass and my constant. I am your love as you are mine and I promise to be
yours, physically and emotionally for however long God gives us.”

After they placed the rings on each other, Father
DeLaurdis pronounced them husband and wife. Grant lifted the gauzy veil draped
over Miranda’s face and they kissed. It wasn’t a gross, tongue in the throat
PDA kind of kiss where observers got embarrassed and had to look away, but
gentle and sweet as if they were continuing their vows, sealing unspoken
promises.

Soon it was over and we were making our way back
down the aisle, this time my arm was hooked through Dante’s. Cheers erupted
indicating the bride and groom were not too far behind. Limo after limo lined
the street in front of the church, but we still had pictures to take before
sunset. Wedding guests were getting to the reception early for a cocktail hour
and I envied them.  I wasn’t the only one needing a drink as Dante called us
all over to one of the waiting limos when just Grant and Miranda were getting
photographed. He popped open a chilled bottle of champagne and filled flutes
for the bridesmaids and groomsmen.

   “Evviva!” Dante said, raising his glass and we
all raised our glasses with him.

   “What does that mean?” I asked Dominic who was
standing next to me.

   “It’s ‘cheers’ in Italian.”

 We quickly sucked the champagne down and hurried
back to meet up with the photographer. I noticed that Dominic made sure he
stood next to me in the group photos and was always touching me in some way;
whether it was his hand on my arm or around my waist or he was brushing against
me. Every contact made my breath hitch.

 As we drove to the reception venue, we stopped at
Penn’s Landing to take some pictures with the river and Ben Franklin Bridge in
the background. The sun was setting and the river reflected the sky’s deep
orange and pink hues. When we piled into the limos our next destination was the
reception venue, which was located up near where I went to school in the arts
district. Dante popped open another bottle of champagne for the short drive.
Since the moms were in another limo, ours developed a party bus atmosphere.

   “Have I told you how gorgeous you look?” Dominic
asked me, leaning close and whispering this in my ear.

   “No, have I told you how hot you look in that
tux?” The champagne was hitting my empty stomach pretty hard and my filter was
coming off. 

   “I did notice you undressing me with your eyes
when you were walking down the aisle.”

   “I was not!” I protested, but knew my blush gave
me away.

   “Father DeLaurdis noticed too. Bad girl, having
lustful thoughts in church,” Dom teased and I smacked him with my bouquet.

   “God, I hope there’s food available when we get
there,” I groaned, rubbing my empty stomach.

   “There will be, but we still have more pictures.
Yo, Dante, we got anything to eat down there?” Dom called down to the other end
of the limo. Dante searched through the compartments by the bar area and tossed
something wrapped in plastic. It was a bag of almonds.

   “You like nuts, right?” Dom asked and wiggled his
eyebrows making me snort.

   “Are you offering to share your nuts with me?” I
deliberately made my voice husky, aiming for sexy and sultry. It must have
worked because Dom’s eyes darkened and he moved in closer. I leaned back in my
seat and scooted down, hoping to put some distance between us, but wound up
bumping into Paulie who was grinning at our exchange. Bianca was sitting next
to Paulie and she was laughing at us. That often happened when I was with Dominic;
I forgot there were other people around us.

Dominic smiled and winked before tossing the bag of
almonds onto my lap. Sitting up, I ripped the bag open and shoved a handful of
nuts into my mouth. The protein would be enough to absorb some of the alcohol
and tide me over until dinner. Dominic placed his hand on my knee and moved his
thumb in small circles that partly tickled and turned me on, making me want to
squirm. He didn’t try to move his hand up my leg. For that I was grateful and
if I was honest with myself, also disappointed.

We pulled up in front of an unassuming building that
looked like any other office building in Philadelphia. Once inside, we followed
a labyrinth marked with signs for the reception and paused at the top of a
sweeping staircase. We looked out over a ballroom that made me think we were on
the movie set for The Great Gatsby. Art deco dominated the room which was cast
in pale blue light. Large round tables covered with deep red table cloths were
on one side and a dance floor was on the other side. Guests crowded around the
bar and servers weaved through the crowd with trays of appetizers. The
photographer wanted to get a few more shots of us, but we were spotted and word
spread fast. Soon all of the guests were gathering around the bottom of the stairs
and clapping. The DJ jumped into action and started announcing the bridal
party. They called my name and Dante’s so we carefully made our way down the
stairs. I held on tightly to Dante’s arm since the bottom of my shoes slipped
on the carpet.

Grant and Miranda made their grand entrance and I
snapped as many pictures as possible with my phone. They both glowed and wore
ear to ear smiles. They were quickly absorbed into the crowd as well wishers
gathered around. I went off to find food and practically pounced on the first
server to cross my path. Grabbing a cocktail napkin, I loaded up on bacon
wrapped scallops and peanut satay chicken skewers, I then directed the server
to seek out the bride and groom. I could only imagine how hungry they were.
While waiting in line at the bar, I happily popped scallops in my mouth,
savoring the bacon.