Page 91 of Married With Lies
Richie sticks his head out the window and yells, “Are we leaving or are we sleeping in the fucking car tonight?”
Cale drops his arms and takes a step back. He glares in the direction of his uncle’s voice.
With a sigh, he walks around to the passenger side and opens the door for me.
I can’t wait to be alone with him.
25
SADIE
Somehow this is not what I was expecting. I pictured grim faces and whispered conversations plotting nefarious activities while some unnerving Godfather-type music trills in the background.
Instead, this is a group of loud party people who roar with laughter and blurt out profanity with no filter. We’re in a private dining room at the back of the resort’s five star restaurant and that’s a good thing because I’ve heard at least three cheerful death threats exchanged since I sat down. If the other resort guests hear, they might be somewhat alarmed.
Cale is by far the quietest member of the group. He speaks only when directly addressed and even then his response is limited to a few words. Right now there are half a dozen conversations happening at once and I can’t keep track of them or even remember everyone’s names. A skinny guy with an eye patch is named either Franco or Brisetti. The bleached blonde on my left who is festooned with about eight pounds of heavy gold jewelry told me to call her Kiki. I think she’s married to the big guy across the table who belches after every sip of wine.
This collection of roughly twenty people belong to Richie Amato’s inner circle. It’s Cale’s circle too, I guess, although he doesn’t fit in with their energy. To look at Cale, he’s made for the part. Tall and powerful and with an air of calculated intensity. Downright formidable. At least, that’s how I thought of him not long ago.
Now I know better.
Cale copied my order of pasta primavera. Everyone else at the table ordered some variation of red meat. He doesn’t appear to be enjoying his dinner. His plate is still half full when I lean over for a word.
“I’m sure you can order something else,” I tell him. “Don’t deprive yourself of a steak just to please my vegetarian senses.”
He spears a cherry tomato with his fork, chews quickly and swallows. “Sadie, I don’t mind pleasing your senses.”
There are so many ways that comment could be taken. I choose to dwell on the smuttiest option.
I’m impatient for the dinner party to break up so I can drag Cale back to our room and find out how many of my senses he’d like to please. But after two hours the wine bottles are still coming and another round of desserts have been delivered.
“I’ll be gaining about ten freaking pounds during this trip,” complains Kiki as she helps herself to a tray of fruit tarts. She offers the tray to me.
“I’m not the kind of girl who turns down dessert,” I say before dropping one onto my own plate.
“We’re a match made in heaven.” Kiki erases half her tart with one bite. It seems she’s adopted me. When her mouth is free of tart crumbs she shouts across the table to Richie’s wife. “Hey Donna, can we get Sadie added to the spa appointment tomorrow?”
I’ve never been to a spa appointment and don’t want to go this weekend. It would put a dent in time much better spent rolling around in luxury bedsheets with Cale.
“Absolutely,” calls Donna and hiccups as she pours another glass of red wine. “I’ve signed us girls up for everything. There’s the mud treatment and the massages and I forget what else but you’ll be ours all day, Sadie.”
My eyes flick to Cale. He’s not listening. He’s watching his uncle. The man with the eye patch has left his seat and whispers in Richie Amato’s ear with some urgency.
“Yay,” I say to Donna and Kiki and smile so my enthusiasm doesn’t seem fake.
Cale is still fixated on his uncle. Richie is scowling. He stands and throws his napkin down before crooking a finger to Cale.
Cale breathes out a sigh and rises from his chair. A chill rolls up my spine. I have no clue what’s happening but when a man with Richie Amato’s reputation looks angry it’s not a good sign.
Not everyone is alarmed. Kiki tries to serve me another fruit tart. A waiter arrives to fill water glasses. Donna shouts down the table to someone named Gina that she really needs to try the merlot and then tells the waiter to bring another bottle.
The men in the room are gathered around Richie like knights awaiting commands from the king. Richie motions to Cale and Cale leans down to hear what he has to say. After a moment he nods. Richie smiles and smacks his nephew on the back with good humor. Cale leaves the room and Richie announces to the wives, “You ladies can stay and keep ordering whatever you want. It’s gonna be a late night for us.”
Cale returns and goes straight to Richie. He said a few words and then heads this way with stress lines pleating his forehead.
“What’s wrong?” I ask when he braces on hand on the back of my chair and bends down.
On my other side, Kiki is nibbling another butter tart and listening.