Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Say it.” She stands in front of me and wiggles her butt. “It’s the ass I should model.”
I laugh out loud. “Definitely the ass, but don’t tell Tavi I was checking you out.”
She rolls her eyes and waves her hand in the general direction of her brothers. “Oh, what-fucking-ever,” she says with a sound of disgust. “You can check my ass out all you want, babe. Anyway, saw you waving to me, thought I’d come over and say hi.” She sits down beside me on the bench and pulls out her phone. “My family will be here forever chatting about nothing, before they go back to The Castle for food. So help me, Tavi better have brought three boxes of those cannolis or we’ll have World War Three on our hands.” She frowns, flipping through notifications on her phone. “Three unfollows. What’s that all about?”
“Why is Tavi in charge of the pastries? Is that his job?”
She blinks at me in surprise and drops her phone to her lap. “Don’t you know? He owns pastry shops in the North End.”
“Really?” I’m intrigued. I’ve always heard the North End was like Boston’s Little Italy, with all the imported Italian food and the rich heritage of Italy on every corner, cobblestoned streets and all.
“Wow,” she says, back scrolling on her phone. “There’s a lot you need to learn about your future husband before you marry him, huh?”
I inwardly cringe and outwardly shrug. “I guess.”
Why? Why does it matter? We’ll be married because we have to be. He won’t be my lover, and I won’t be his. We’ll be little more than a strange concoction of roommate and fuck buddy, I guess.
I hope he knows how to move those powerful hips of his. A girl could forgive a lot from a man who fucks well.
“Well. So for starters…” she taps her chin thoughtfully before grinning, taking a selfie, then sending it out with a swipe of her phone. “Tonight’s a full moon. You know what they say about reading Tarot cards and a full moon?”
I snort. “No, why don’t you tell me.”
I know she’s super into things like Tarot cards and astrology and crystals. I like tangible, real things, things I can touch and see.
“Elise,” she says, rolling her eyes at me. “Listen, babe. Reading Tarot cards during a full moon is the most optimal time to read them, and most especially when you’re right on the verge of a major life change.”
Major life change? My major life change was when Piero died. Getting married to Tavi will only be a matter of course.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “Okay. Does Angelina do it with you?”
Marialena nods her head eagerly. “Yup. Loves them. Rosa, she couldn’t care less and Mama thinks they’re the work of the Devil.” She shrugs. “But the clearest answers are always during a full moon, because it reflects the improved intuition of your diviner…” She points both thumbs at herself. “Which is me, by the way. The most compelling Tarot reading you could get is during the full moon cycle.”
“So… why don’t you read yours?” I ask, stifling a laugh.
“Oh, honey, I so will. Trust me. Hey, that’s a pretty gold bracelet you’ve got there.”
Pretty? Ha. She can have the damn thing. “Thanks.” I slide it gently along my wrist, afraid it’s magically fastened itself back together, and give a little sigh of relief when I feel it still loose and unlocked. I’d give it to her if the possessed little torture device didn’t heat on its own. I don’t want to surprise her or hurt her in any way.
“So what do you say, Elise? Come with Angelina and let me read your cards tonight.”
I shrug. “If Tavi will let me.”
She stands and gives me a bold wink. “He will. Trust me. I’ll talk with him.” She does seem to have some sway over her brothers. How much, I have no idea.
When she walks away, I look down at the bracelet and back to Tavi. He’s got his back to me. Occasionally, he glances over his shoulder, but he seems more preoccupied than he was before.
I stand with my back to him. He’s oblivious to the fact that the bracelet’s no longer locked on me. With my heart hammering against my chest, I walk quickly to the edge of the garden, close enough to him so as not to alert him right away.
I drop the bracelet. It makes a soft thumping sound when it hits the ground, and a little puff of dirt rises into the air. Quickly, I kick it as hard as I can under a bush. With my back to the crowd, I run my fingers along the bare skin at my wrist. It feels so good. So good.
I know I’ll get in trouble for this. He’ll find out eventually, and I’ll probably deal with his anger as a result, but right now? I don’t care. I don’t.