Shooting me a look, Virginia says, “Alcohol makes me feisty when I have pre-existing reasons to be annoyed at you. I’m happy with you tonight. I’ll be especially happy with you when we’re on a plane to Italy. I’m sure I could handle a little extra alcohol tonight.”
“Let’s not test that theory,” I tell her.
“Oh, but you love tests,” she says coyly, before taking a playfully spiteful sip of champagne.
Mateo smirks and shifts the conversation away from my misdeeds. “Is this your first time?” he asks Virginia.
“My first time visiting Italy? Yes. We’ll be there for two whole weeks. I’m so excited.”
He nods distractedly, his gaze wandering back to the dance floor—probably in search of his wife, since people are shuffling and she’s obscured from his immediate view. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”
Seeing she has already lost Mateo’s attention, Virginia looks back at me. “Have you ever taken a woman to Italy before?”
“Of course not.” I lean forward a few inches and place a dutiful kiss on a sexy swatch of her bare shoulder. “I was saving that for you.”
She playfully narrows her eyes at me. “You didn’t even know I was coming. Don’t you lie to me, Rafe Morelli.”
“Lie to you, Mrs. Morelli? I would never.”
Virginia grins, taking me at my word despite my playfulness or my previous misdeeds, and I love that. I may have plenty of wealth and influence to throw around or wield over others, but without question the most valuable thing I possess is Virginia. Her love, her trust—her unwavering conviction that even though I’m a bad guy, I’m a good man. There aren’t a lot of women out there who can legitimately believe that sort of thing, and I’m lucky as hell I found one who could.
And I would never lie to her—except when I absolutely must. Occasionally, when you’re living this life, you have to lie to your woman in order to protect her from avoidable harm.
Like Felix. When my lovely, thoughtful wife and I are spending the second week of our honeymoon on a pristine beach in Sardinia, I’m already prepared for her to make the connection to Felix, to make some remark about how much he must be enjoying his life on some beach, somewhere. I’m even prepared in case she tries catching me off-guard with it, to watch my face for some sign of deception. I don’t think she will, because she trusts me and ultimately wants to believe Felix is safe and happy somewhere, but I can’t help remembering the way she closed her eyes the night she asked me not to cheat on her, and if I already had, not to ever let her find out. I was innocent of that transgression, so I had nothing to hide, but she closed her eyes in case I did, to protect her ability to believe me. Some women might be able to self-deceive, but once an ugly truth is locked away in Virginia’s memory, she can’t edit it to accommodate the pretty lie she needs to believe.
That night Virginia taught me that if I absolutely need to lie about something, I must do it convincingly, or she’ll catch me. Knowing that, I’ve gone over every conceivable way it could come up, and my response to every scenario, to every spin-off question I can fathom her having. Hell, at this point, I almost believe Felix is watching co-eds shoot tequila on a beach somewhere, so if it comes up, I’ll damn sure be able to convince Virginia.
If her common sense whispers at her that it didn’t make logical sense for me to let Felix live once I no longer had a use for him, to wastefully toss money at a potential threat and give a second chance to some asshole I didn’t even like, instead of simply letting Sin deal with him the traditional way… I’ll be ready.
That lie, I will tell.
I know I could tell the truth. I know Virginia would get past Felix’s death, but she would undoubtedly feel some measure of guilt for it, too. There’s no point making her endure pain I can easily shield her from.
Never thought I’d agree with my goddamned cousin, but here we are. Maybe I’ve joined some secret husband club I never had access to before, and membership brought with it some beginner’s comprehension of the lengths you’ll go to for your woman.
Speaking of my cousin and his woman, Mia wanders over to us now that all her dancing buddies have paired off. I expect she’ll steal Mateo away, but she stops in front of Adrian.
“Want to dance with me? I have been abandoned by my girl squad.”
“Am I the next best thing to a girl squad?” he inquires.
She shrugs. “Elise isn’t here, who else are you going to dance with?”
“Well, I have been agonizing over that question all night,” he deadpans.
Mia ignores him, taking his hand and pulling him out of his chair. “Come on.”
“I don’t like dancing,” he complains, as he lets her drag him out on the floor.
Not that I especially care, but my curiosity compels me to ask, “Why isn’t his wife here again?”
“Someone had to babysit,” Mateo answers, glancing over at Adrian’s empty seat as Rex takes advantage of the vacancy and drops into it.
Virginia puts my champagne flute down on the table and glances over at him. “How come you’re not dancing with anyone, Rex?”
“Not enough Disney characters at this gathering, I guess,” I remark.
He rolls his eyes at me. “I don’t want to hear it. A year ago, you would’ve nailed the mermaid, too.”