Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
“Sweetheart, you’ll always be part of the Outfit. Your marriage to someone like Clifford would help the Outfit, which everyone will appreciate greatly. His family is very influential and if his father becomes senator, this will only improve.”
I nodded. The Outfit would be untouchable if we had the support of an important political family. I knew Dad worried a lot about our safety and the strength of the Outfit. If I could help him, why wouldn’t I do it?
“And you would have more freedoms in a marriage with an outsider. You could study art, maybe even work in the field. Our men aren’t as liberal.”
“Have you and Dad already agreed to the marriage?”
“No,” Mom said immediately. “I wanted to talk to you first.”
I bit my lip. It was strange thinking of marrying someone I barely knew, or thinking about marriage at all. Whenever it had crossed my mind, it had been a very distant idea. Now it became reality. “Can I talk to him during training tomorrow? I want to get a feel for him.”
Mom smiled. “Of course, but he doesn’t suspect anything. His family doesn’t want to divulge anything to him until things are more concrete.”
“I won’t tell him anything. I’ll find an excuse for wanting to chat with him.”
“You’re a clever girl. I’m sure he won’t suspect anything.” Mom kissed my temple. “Tell me how it went, okay?”
Luisa looked more nervous than me, as if she had to marry Clifford. After we’d gotten dressed in our white tennis skirts and matching shirts, she and I headed for the tennis courts. My gaze swiped the wide hall until I found Clifford in the second to last court, playing against one of his friends, a boy of Asian descent, whose name I didn’t know.
The court beside them was vacant so I steered Luisa toward it.
“Stop staring at them as if you have something to hide,” I muttered as we entered the court. Luisa didn’t have a deceiving bone in her body. She was way too good. We were like good cop and bad cop.
She flushed. “I can’t help it!”
“Focus on the ball,” I said and tossed her a tennis ball before I took up position on the other side of the net. Only a low barrier separated our tennis court from the next one where Clifford and the other boy were engaged in a heated match.
Luisa and I played back and forth for a while before I fired the ball to Clifford’s side. I jogged over to the barrier. Clifford picked up the ball with a scowl. “Hey, pay attention to where you’re pitching your ball. You disrupted our game.”
He tossed the ball over to me, not even bothering to come closer. I pursed my lips. Rude. He was as I’d remembered him, tall, blond wavy hair and lanky limbs.
His rudeness rubbed me the wrong way. I turned back around in a sour mood.
Luisa shrugged. I didn’t bother another contact attempt, and listening in on their conversation was moot. They were too focused on their match.
Later at the juice bar, I tried my luck again and settled on a bar chair close to Clifford and his friend. Their conversation about Lacrosse almost had me fall asleep. Soon two more boys joined him and his friend.
I’d never paid much attention to Clifford Clark, and now I knew why. We didn’t share the same crowd or interests. He was the preppy, polo-wearing, teacher-pet kind of guy. Their track records were as squeaky clean as their tennis attire.
I knew their parents had their own secrets, but they weren’t as dark as the ones mine carried. Clifford and I came from vastly different worlds. He and his friends thought they were tough. I knew what real toughness looked like. I wasn’t sure if I could ever like someone like him, much less respect him.
Mom had asked yesterday if I could imagine marrying Clifford one day. I’d always known I’d have an arranged marriage. For a Capo’s daughter, there wasn’t another option. Right this moment, I had a hard time considering Clifford as anything.
The four boys migrated to a table in the dining room of the tennis club, ordering sandwiches, fries, and sodas. At least in that regard, they weren’t as pretentious as they looked. If Clifford had ordered an acai bowl or tuna sashimi, I would have drawn a line.
Santino appeared in the doorway, obviously tired of waiting. “What’s taking you so long? Can’t you take your green juices to go?”
I rolled my eyes. “We need to relax after training. Give us a few more minutes.”
Santino perched on a vacant barstool. The girl working the counter immediately sauntered over to him, tossing her hair in a flirty way. “What can I do for you? Maybe a nice Ginger booster? It’s spicy and will give you an extra kick.”