He chuckled. “So that’s what this is? Business?” I felt his eyes drift in my direction. “I thought we left that back at the bar.”
“I don’t know what it is,” I answered honestly. It was quickly growing complicated.
“Maybe we should leave business out of it. It would simplify things.”
“Maybe it would.”
Once again, he drove me to a place I’d never seen or heard of. We were in the back alleys of the city. Before he had a chance to round the front of the car, Kimble was already at my door, scanning the street and keeping me in place.
“Relax,” Knight instructed. “I know this place.”
“Does this place know who she is?” Kimble eyed him. “I don’t know that it’s safe here. It’s my job to keep her safe. I’m the one who protects her.”
“As long as she’s with me, you don’t need to worry so much.”
I pushed between the two of them. The testosterone battle was frustrating. “Just stop. I’m hungry.” I stormed into the restaurant. Knight followed me.
“Why don’t you send him home?” he suggested once we were seated. “He’s a little obsessive about his job.”
“I don’t know that he’ll listen.” I held the menu under the candlelight to read it. “What about you? Don’t you travel with bodyguards?”
“Yes.”
“But where are they?” I studied the guests in the dimly lit dining room.
“I sent them home after drinks.”
“I never saw anyone at the bar,” I argued. “Where were they? Who was it?”
He smiled. “That’s how it should be. My team knows how to fade into the background. They’re virtually ghosts. Kimble sticks out. Everyone knows he’s watching you.”
I shifted in my chair. “He’s following orders.” I didn’t know why I chose to defend him.
“But when does he start doing what you want him to do?”
“I’m working on it.” I smiled wryly. I didn’t like that my bodyguard was planted near the restaurant bar, watching everyone who walked in and out of the door. I didn’t like that he was memorizing the moments of my dinner. I didn’t like that he was witnessing how I interacted with Knight. It felt like a violation, not an act of protection.
A solo saxophone took a stage in the corner of the restaurant. I hadn’t even realized it was there until the spotlight highlighted the musician. My breath caught in the back of my throat with the first note.
Knight reached underneath the table and stroked the top of my thigh with his thumb. I leaned toward him.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I whispered. I was suddenly filled with nerves.
“Why not? I think it’s going well.”
I lowered my eyes. “It’s bigger than us, isn’t it?”
I was afraid to look at him again. Afraid to feel my soul bounce around my body, as if he had the other end of the string and tugged it when it suited him. It shouldn’t be like this. Who gave up control this quickly?
“That depends.”
“On?” I searched his eyes for something definitive. I didn’t believe that there was anything but trouble ahead for us. The hotel was an obvious impasse. I was on a short leash, and as soon as my father found a family to partner with, I’d be married.
His fingertips trailed the side of my cheek. I pressed into his open palm.
“How much control we allow our fathers to have,” he replied softly.
The saxophone hit a high note. I felt the shudder carry down my spine and to my ankles. “We aren’t on equal ground. You have a say in your future. I’m no different than Seraphina. You realize that, don’t you? I don’t get to choose.”
There was a hint of pain in his eyes. “What if we could change that?”
I held my breath, waiting for him to answer my prayers. I’d never accepted that I didn’t get to choose my fate. I’d fought it since the day I discovered I was an asset to my father. A bartering tool. A dowry that he would pawn to cash in on a new business or set up a partnership.
I was fifteen when we attended my cousin Gigi’s wedding. I was a bridesmaid. I was too old to be a flower girl. Too young to be responsible for any bride duties. It was an awkward age to be in the wedding party.
The girls took turns fluffing Gigi’s dress in the foyer of the cathedral. It was a huge Catholic Philadelphia wedding. For a second, I held her bouquet. The flower girls had been ushered out. The photographer took pictures. Her father strolled toward her. I tried to hand the bouquet back, but Gigi was pleading with my uncle. She didn’t want to marry Danny. He was nice enough, but she hated his big nose. He wasn’t funny. He didn’t like dogs. I tried to step away, but I was stuck with the bouquet. My uncle’s cheeks turned red and he raised his hand. I thought for a second he was going to slap Gigi, but he lowered it when she extended her hands for the flowers. It was as if he suddenly realized I was there.
I was as humiliated as she was. I whispered to her, but I didn’t know what to say. So, I just told her she looked beautiful. It was all I could think of before I was tossed through the doors and expected to walk down the aisle ahead of her to organ music.
That night after the reception I asked my father if he knew Gigi didn’t want to marry Danny. I asked him if he knew Uncle Gio forced her into it. He loosened his tie and laughed.
“It was a good business deal for Gio. It doesn’t matter what Gigi thinks of Danny. She’s lucky,” my father answered.
I didn’t sleep that night. I tried not to think about my cousin on her way to Rome for her honeymoon, but she was all I could think about. I didn’t want a Danny. I didn’t want a honeymoon
