"Here," I say, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a peppermint, holding it out to her. "Take it."
She hesitates before snatching it up. "Are you suggesting my breath stinks?"
"Not at all." I pull out a piece for myself and slip it in my mouth. I tuck it along my cheek to suck on it. "It's a little trick I learned. Whenever a situation makes you nervous, suck on a piece of hard candy. It's psychological. Your brain thinks if you were in any real danger, you wouldn't be eating something, so it reasons that you're perfectly fine."
Also, it'll keep her from talking so damn much.
She pops the mint in her mouth. "I've never seen you eat one of these before."
"Very little makes me nervous."
"But you're nervous now."
Not a question.
I hope that doesn't mean my anxiety is obvious.
"Yeah, well, I don't want to be here any more than you do, sweetheart."
I lock up the car once we get out, my eyes skimming along the trunk involuntarily before I turn away. I offer Karissa a smile when I see she's fidgeting, reaching over to take her hand.
Linking our fingers together, I squeeze lightly, running my tongue along the peppermint in my mouth.
She stays in step with me, fingernails digging into the back of my hand when we reach the porch. I ring the doorbell, the front door opening instantly, animated voices streaming out from inside. Kelvin stands in front of us. I wonder how much Ray paid him to go from working the door at Cobalt to watching the door at his house.
"Vitale," he greets me, his gaze dropping right away as he steps aside. "They're waiting for you."
I say nothing, pulling Karissa inside as Kelvin shuts the door behind us. She stares at him briefly, wide eyed, before pushing herself closer to me.
"I know him," she hisses under her breath.
"He's the bouncer at the club you frequented," I say, filling in any blanks for her. "He also works at Cobalt."
She looks between us in shock before her eyes ultimately settle on me. "You have him watch me?"
"No, he just happened to recognize you that first night."
She doesn't look as if she believes me, but I don't have a chance to convince her otherwise. Before either of us can speak again, Ray's voice calls out from his den where everyone has gathered. "Vitale!"
Taking a deep breath, I squeeze Karissa's hand reassuringly before pulling her that direction. There are about two-dozen people hanging around, chatting and drinking, waiting on dinner to start. I stroll right over to Ray, Karissa in tow, and nod politely. "Ray."
"Glad you could make it," he says. "I started to worry when eight o'clock rolled around and there was no sign of you."
"I got a little caught up with business," I explain. "I wouldn't miss tonight for anything."
"Good, good." Ray slaps my shoulder, patting me on the back, before turning his focus on Karissa. Before she can react, he grabs her free hand. "I'm happy you could join us, Miss Rita."
I tense at his intentional use of that name—Rita. Karissa doesn't acknowledge it. He smiles at her silence, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing the back of it.
"Thank you," she says quietly, "for inviting me."
"Of course." He lets go and stares at her for a moment before turning to me. "Vitale, come… say hello to the men while the women chit-chat."
Karissa shoots me a panicked look, but Ray's waltzing away before I can refuse him. I lean toward Karissa, kissing the corner of her mouth, before whispering, "You'll be okay. I'll only be a few minutes."
I have to pry my hand away, seeing Ray watching me from his office door, waiting for me to join him. I walk past him, inside, and he slips in after me, shutting the door. A few men lurk in here, some of the top guys in the organization, sitting around, sipping scotch and discussing business.
Ray doesn't bother offering me a drink. He knows I won't accept it. He slips into his chair behind his desk while I perch along the side of the room, surveying them. They talk about this and that… schemes and plots… while I stay quiet, Ray watching for my reaction to it all.
He's putting me under a fucking microscope.
Ten minutes pass… twenty… thirty… I frequently glance at my watch, wanting this to be over. Forty-five minutes later, and I've had about as much as I can take. I stand up, trying to slip out undetected, but Ray won't let me go without a fight.
"Somewhere you need to be, Vitale?"
"Just going to check on Karissa."
"She's fine," Ray says.
"I'm sure you're right, but still, I'd like to check."
He hesitates before waving dismissively.
I head out of the office, back into the den. The crowd is thinner as people scattered throughout the house. A quick glance around tells me Karissa isn't here. My chest tightens, and I excuse myself just as someone tries to speak to me, making my way through the house, looking for her. I head past the living room, my footsteps faltering when I glance inside, catching sight of the vibrant red dress.
I stall in the doorway. She's alone, the room quiet and dimly lit, as she gazes up at the mantle above the fireplace. I watch her for a moment before slowly strolling toward her. I don't even have to look. I know what it is she sees.
I know, because I see it every time I come to this place.
"Karissa."
She jumps at the sound of my voice, glancing my way, a panicked look on her face. "I, uh… I was just heading to the bathroom, and well…"
"I get it."
I pause right behind her as she turns back around, her gaze going right back to the picture frame on the mantle. The photo is nearly two decades old but well preserved in the glass, like it was just taken yesterday.
Yesterday… it feels like yesterday. Feels like yesterday I stood in front of that photographer, an arm around Maria, wearing that godforsaken tuxedo while she nearly drowned in that poufy white dress. It was pretentious, everything neither of us were, but it had been her dream to have a wedding just like her parents.
So I'd given it to her.
"You look so happy," Karissa whispers.
"I was happy," I confess, my chest tightening as I gaze at the old photograph. "Very happy."
"Are you…?" She pauses for a moment. "Are you happy now?"
I can feel her gaze on me. My eyes shift to meet hers. I drink in her apprehension as she once more bites on her cheek nervously.
I'm not sure how to answer that question. A part of me yearns to just say 'yes', to ease all of her worries because I think it's what she wants to hear. What she needs to hear. But another part of me just can't lie to her.