Yet, we haven’t committed to anything yet. Sure; we’re acting like a couple, especially when we’re out in public. Everyone we interact with in Auckland thinks we’re married, or at the very least engaged. But we haven’t agreed to any titles, or even to the fact that we are together. I think at the end of the day, we’re both a little afraid of what that means. All I want is for Chloe to have a normal life, and to stop waking up terrified that today is going to be the day I get murdered by a mob boss. Being with Pierce, even without the security of a “title,” has given me a sense of safety I haven’t had a long time.
But now that we are back in Manhattan, I am sure that everything is going to end. The mobsters are going to catch up with me, Pierce is going to leave me when he finds out the truth about Chloe, and I will be alone again, because legally… I gave up parental rights to my daughter. And heaven knows I don’t have the resources to fight the Cochrans to get her back. Everything hinges on the next few days and how Pierce reacts to this last, crucial confession.
But first, we have to get back to the apartment, and decide how we are going to tell Pierce’s family we are leaving for good.
Instead of going back to the apartment right away like we planned, Pierce makes an executive decision to go right to his parents’ house. When the town car pulls up outside, he takes a long, deep breath.
“I don’t think Dad is going to care one way or the other. But Mom is going to be furious. Especially because I’m taking her granddaughter sixteen hours to the opposite side of the world. I don’t think she’ll have an issue with me leaving. Just Chloe.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I’m sure she will miss you too, Pierce. With Logan back and forth in the service, and you gone, who is she going to fuss over?”
“My mother does not fuss. You know that better than anyone. She will mostly be frustrated that she can’t control things anymore. But, I know she will miss Chloe. And at the same time, I can tell you: she won’t miss me.”
I roll my eyes. “At least you have a family that cares enough to be pests. I love Uncle Sal and Aunt Marie, but they aren’t going to be terribly broken up if I leave. If anything, they’ll appreciate that they don’t have to worry about me anymore.”
Pierce reaches over and takes my hand in his, giving it a soft kiss on the top. My whole body lights up. “The only person who has to worry about taking care of you now is me. And I will never let anyone hurt you again. That’s a promise.”
I take a second to gather my thoughts, and try not to blurt out everything right there in the car. The driver looks at us in the rearview mirror, clearly getting impatient for us to pay him and get out of the car.
“This is your stop, correct? Can I help you with your bags?”
“We’ll be fine. Thank you.” Pierce hands him two $100 bills, and the man shuts up immediately. When we get out of the car, the Cochran’s attendant is waiting for us, and begins collecting the bags immediately. Pierce shakes his hand, and Chloe reaches out for him, but the man looks less than enthused at the prospect of holding a child, so I take her.
“Good to see, Nelson! Are my parents inside?”
Nelson takes the bags up the stairs with a stiff and resolute stature. “No, sir. They’ve gone to Martinelli’s for dinner. And they’ve requested that you join them at your earliest convenience. I think they were expecting you a while ago, sir.”
Pierce looks frustrated. “I told them when we were arriving. They couldn’t wait until we got to the house?”
Nelson shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine, sir. But they said they’d wait for you before eating. I suspect that didn’t pan out either.”
Pierce follows Nelson inside and they talk for a moment before Pierce returns, looking even more annoyed. We start walking toward Martinelli’s, a restaurant very near the house that happens to be one of the most exclusive places in New York. It is a family-owned Italian restaurant that has been part of the city’s landscape since 1947, and tables are essentially owned. Unless you are invited by someone who owns a table, or inherit one, there is no chance you’re getting in. If you call and ask for a reservation, they will laugh and hang up on you. So, the fact that I am about to walk in there and even see the inside is making my hands shake. Pierce sees that I’m nervous as we walk up to the door.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Pierce, this is Martinelli’s! I’ve never felt brave enough to so much as walk by the front door, let alone go inside. People die without getting to eat here. I can’t… just walk up like it’s nothing.”
Pierce shrugs. “My family owns a table, Ari. You can come in, you can eat, you can yell at the waitstaff if you want. I wouldn’t recommend it. But it’s certainly an option.”
“Pierce! I would never. Are you crazy? Are you sure it’s okay if we go in? Chloe and I are allowed?”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Pierce says as he opens the door and shoves me inside. I am blown away by what I see when I stumble into the restaurant’s lobby. It is nothing like I expected; it’s like a snapshot from a different era. I don’t think anything has changed in the years since they opened it. The whole place is smaller than half of Pierce’s apartment, and it’s dark, with a slight earthy smell that is tempered only by the overwhelming aroma of knee-buckling deliciousness. The smell of the sauce alone is heavy in the air, and I can’t remember having ever been this hungry in my entire life. Ever since the surgery, I find it hard to eat huge amounts of food at a time; I can only pick at small amounts, and I r
arely get hungry. The restaurant in New Zealand was stretching it. But right now, I think I could probably eat everything on the menu and not care about the consequences.
We walk to the back of the restaurant and find James and Carol sitting in a booth with their name on a placard above it, eating from an antipasti platter and looking at each other like they are the only two people in the world. It must be something about this restaurant because I’ve never seen them look that in love before. Pierce has to clear his throat to get their attention.
“Pierce, my boy! So glad you’re back in Manhattan! Tell me all about New Zealand,” James says without ever entirely pulling his focus away from Carol. We sit down at the booth with them, and Chloe immediately grabs for a piece of thin white cheese. I don’t stop her, because I can’t really blame her. Everything looks amazing. But Pierce seems too nervous to eat.
“Dad, I actually hoped we could talk about that. You see, those clients you had meet with in Auckland? Well, it turns out, that account is a lot bigger than we expected. And worth a lot more to the company than we ever could have imagined. And… it has the potential to get us in with some very important organizations in other countries moving forward.”
James slaps his huge hand on the table, and all of the silverware goes flying in the air. “That’s fantastic, my boy! Well done! We can start hiring local people as soon as possible.”
Pierce shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and I try and focus on Chloe. “That’s the thing, Dad. The two men in charge have specifically requested that I run things in Auckland. It’s part of the deal. If I don’t stay in New Zealand and head things up, then they will take their business elsewhere. They want someone with “boots-on-the-ground” experience running their ops, and they trust me based on my history with the Navy. So… I’m going to be moving to Auckland. As soon as possible.”
James’ face goes still as stone, and Carol’s jaw drops so low it almost hits the table.
“What do you mean, you’re moving to Auckland? You can’t move to New Zealand, Pierce. That’s ridiculous. You’re going to take Chloe and move to a country on the other side of the planet? No. I forbid it,” Carol says, the hand holding her glass of wine shaking. James reaches over and gives her arm a reassuring squeeze.