Heartless (20 page)

A
idy

M
y mother hasn’t let go
of my hand since we sat down. She’s been clinging to my side since she flew in this morning and busted into our apartment singing her own rendition of Frank Sinatra’s
New York, New York
, her brightly hued Lily Pulitzer bag slung over her shoulder and a matching rolling suitcase behind her. Coming to the city feels like the first time to her, every time, and it’s adorable.

“Doesn’t your sister look beautiful?” Mom squeezes my hand, staring wistfully at Wren and Chauncey at the head of the table. “I always knew she’d make a lovely bride. And you will too, someday.”

I don’t tell her I’m not even thinking that far ahead. It’d break her heart.

“Julie, how are you?” Topaz takes a seat across from us, smiling ear to ear.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Mom smiles back. “It’s so wonderful to see you. Look at that hair? Lavender. I love it.”

Topaz runs her fingers through a shiny wave and shrugs. “I’m thinking of going auburn next. It’s almost fall, and I want something that looks good with jewel tones.”

Leave it to Topaz to coordinate the color of her hair with seasonal wardrobe color palettes.

“Auburn would be lovely on you,” Mom says.

“Where’s your date?” I whisper across the table, nose scrunched.

“He’s coming,” she says, sighing. “He’s late. He was finishing up a shoot in Tribeca, but he’s on his way.”

The clinking of glass fills the small party room we’re sharing, and we all turn our attention to the head of the table where Chauncey is tapping his butter knife against a champagne flute. As soon as the room quiets, he reaches for Wren’s hand and pulls her close.

“Thank you, everyone,” Chauncey says, his face turning beet red when he speaks. “We just wanted to thank you all for coming to our reception. Simply stated, today has been one of the best days of my entire life. Never in a million years did I think I’d meet someone as wonderful as Wren, and the fact that she’s carrying my child and she agreed to marry me makes me the luckiest Irishman in all of Manhattan. Enzo, I’m very privileged to be your stepfather, and to assist your mother in raising you. You’re going to be an amazing big brother, no doubt in my mind. And Julie and Aidy, thank you for welcoming me into your family. I know you three are thick as thieves, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to join your circle of craziness.”

Mom lifts her glass to Chauncey, grinning, pink lipstick on her teeth and all.

I watch Wren, smiling when our eyes meet, and she smiles back. She couldn’t have chosen a more perfect day to marry her soul mate. The weather cooperated. Her hair and makeup were on point. Everyone showed up on time.

It’s a shame that my father isn’t here, but at the end of the day, it’s his loss. He’s the one who’s going to have to live with that. I’m just beyond grateful that Wren is marrying someone
better
than him. She’s marrying the man she deserves, and he’s going to make her incredibly happy.

Candles flicker on the table, surrounded by red roses. It’s an awfully romantic setting, and I find myself wishing Ace were here something fierce. Mom would’ve loved him. And then she would’ve done everything in her power to embarrass me.

From the corner of my eye, I spot Topaz rise in her seat slightly, giving a wave toward the doorway. Following her gaze, I see a man making his way to the empty seat beside her.

“Thanks for coming, everyone,” Wren says at the head of the table, lifting her flute of sparkling apple cider. “Food should be coming out shortly. Drinks are on us.”

We lift our glasses and toast to the new Finnegan family, and Mom wipes a tear from the corner of her eye.

“Sorry I’m late,” I hear a man’s voice across the table. It’s Topaz’s date.

Mom is talking my ear off once again, telling me some gossip about Aunt Bev back home, but from the corner of my eye I almost swear I’m seeing Ace. I shake my head, chalking it up to my brain playing tricks on me. He’s been on my mind all day. All week really. I’ve been seeing him everywhere I go, all over the city. Any man with chocolate brown hair and a rock solid body and a brooding walk about him, I’m convinced is Ace. I almost couldn’t breathe on the train two nights ago when I thought for sure that the guy sitting behind me wearing headphones was him.

“Aidy, this is Gianluca,” Topaz says. I glance across the table at her date and nearly lose my breath. Gianluca is modern and urban and drop-dead sexy, wavy, shoulder-length hair, leather motorcycle jacket, and all. Topaz wears an apprehensive smile, like she’s trying to pretend she doesn’t like him or that she’s too cool to get excited over the gorgeous specimen of man seated beside her.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, extending my hand over a flickering candle.

Topaz watches me from across the table, trying to gauge my reaction.

I take a deep breath and reach for the water in front of me. Seeing Gianluca next to Topaz makes me miss Ace so much it hurts.

All the ice cubes have melted in my goblet, and the glass is slick with condensation. Gripping the glass, it nearly slides from my fingers, but the frigid cold snaps me back into the present moment.

Gianluca is nothing like Ace, but there’s something familiar about him. Maybe it’s his mannerisms or his posture. Something I can’t place exactly.

Or maybe I just really, really miss Ace and I’m projecting.

Giving myself a moment, I convince myself that this is all in my head. Topaz has worked with Ace. She knows his aura. His demeanor. If she thought Gianluca reminded her of Ace, she’d surely have said something, right? Then again, it’s Topaz, and she tends to be a bit oblivious to most things.

It’s all in my head. It has to be.

I clear my throat and lean in, composing myself. “Topaz tells me you’re a photographer?”

He leans in before he answers, eyes locked in mine. His dark eyes are intense, but his body is fluid, relaxed.

“I am,” he says. “Mostly fashion. For some reason they love me in Milan. I’m always over there for shoots.”

“What kind of shoots do you do? Like commercials or magazine spreads . . .?” Making small talk with him helps to keep my mind busy and my curiosity at bay.

“Little bit of everything.” He laughs through his nose, the corner of his mouth lifting on one side. He’s extremely good-looking. Pretty, even. The proportions of his face are perfection, and his hooded brown eyes draw me in like magnets. No wonder Topaz likes him. He’s a walking billboard model. I bet he’s the kind of guy who takes naked pictures of his girlfriends, and not in the perverted, skeezy type, but the artistic, sensual kind.

“Oh, nice,” I say, keeping my response canned because I’m struggling to think clearly here as I try to determine what’s so familiar about this man.

Sucking in a deep breath, I sit back in my chair.

“Aunt Aidy, Aunt Aidy.” Enzo taps my left shoulder, and I welcome the distraction.

“Hey, buddy,” I say.

“Did you see my corsage?” He points to the flower on his lapel.

“That’s a boutonniere,” I say, “and yes. I love it. I helped your mom pick it out.”

Enzo takes a look around and then sighs. He’s the only kid here, and he’s got to be bored out of his mind. I feel for him, I do. But this is a momentous occasion and he should be here, celebrating with us grown folk.

“Are you excited for our week together?” I ask. Wren and Chauncey are leaving for their honeymoon first thing tomorrow. They’ll be gone all week, traveling to Jamaica, and I’ll be in charge of Enzo.

My nephew nods. “I can’t wait, Aunt Aidy. I’m so excited!”

“Me too, kid.” I ruffle his russet hair. “We’re going to have so much fun this week you won’t even know what to do with yourself.”

I’ve got a whole week planned for him. He’s going through some major life changes now. He’ll be moving uptown with Wren, to Chauncey’s place, he’ll be switching schools, and come Christmastime, he’s going to be sharing the spotlight with an adorable baby brother or sister.

I figured spoiling him with junk food and toys and attention for a week wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to him.

“Hey, your mom wants you,” I tell him when I spot Wren flagging him down. There’s a lady with a camera at the head of the table, and I think they’re taking pictures. Enzo shuffles away, and my gaze returns to Topaz and Gianluca.

They’re flirting with each other, hardcore, shamelessly, completely oblivious to everyone around them. He’s leaning in close to her, his hand looking to be resting on her knee and her legs crossed, angled toward him. He tucks a strand of dark hair behind one ear and licks his lips before whispering something into her ear. I get goose bumps . . . for her . . . just by watching. Gianluca is absurdly sexy. Not as sexy as Ace but pretty damn close.

I’m so engrossed in these two that I don’t notice anything going on around me. The clicking of silverware on china fades into background noise, and all the conversational chatter blends into a dull murmur.

Gianluca lifts his hand to Topaz’s cheek, running his thumb along her jaw, and she bites her lip, glancing down. When she looks up, her gaze travels over his shoulder, and her expression falls.

Turning to me, her eyes widen.

“What?” I mouth.

Gianluca releases his hand from her face and reaches for the glass of champagne resting in front of him, unaware of whatever is stealing Topaz’s attention at this moment.

Her eyes travel toward the doorway then back to me, and when I turn to see what she’s making a big deal about, my heart hammers in my chest and my entire body feels weak.

Ace
.

Ace is
here
.

Standing in the doorway.

Dressed to the nines in a black suit and white dress shirt, hair slicked back. I bet he smells like a million dollars too.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy to see him. God, I’ve missed this man. But I’m not about to pretend like nothing happened. I’m not about to go slow motion sprinting into his arms.

Clearing my throat, I look at Topaz, pleading with my eyes, silently asking her what I should do because my body is paralyzed and my mind is thinking a million different thoughts and none of them make sense.

Her eyes widen, her lips pinch, and her brows lift. If she could speak right now without causing a scene, she’d probably tell me to go to him.

Tossing my napkin onto my empty bread plate, I rise from the table and step quickly in his direction, heart thrumming hard in my chest and heat radiating from my ears. My lips tingle.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I yell-whisper, trying my hardest to appear angry with him when all I really want is to kiss his sexy mouth and drag my hands down his muscled chest.

Ace takes me by the crook of my elbow and leads me to a hallway just outside the restrooms. We’re alone, and the ambient sconces on the wall behind us cast warm glows over our faces.

“You’ve been avoiding me all week,” he says.

“So you show up at my sister’s reception? Do you know how crazy you look?”

He drags a palm across his smooth cheek, the one without the scar, and smirks. “Yeah, Aidy. Well aware. But you need to hear me out.”

“This couldn’t wait?”

“Until when? You won’t return my calls or texts. You won’t have anything to do with me. Am I just supposed to wait until the universe decides we should bump into each other again? Because who the hell knows when that’ll be.”

My arms are folded across my chest. I make the mistake of letting my gaze fall from his eyes to his lips and back, and he fully notices.

This move could prove deadly.

My back is against a wall and his hand rests flat behind my shoulder. I breathe him in, another deadly mistake, and lick my lips. I miss his weight on me. I miss his hands, guiding my hips as he drives himself deep inside me. I miss lying in the cocoon of his arms, all safe and warm and electric.

But he lied.

And he’s still in love with someone else.

I could miss every single thing about him, and I do, but it wouldn’t change the facts.

“You want to know why I never talk about my past?” he asks.

I nod, lips pursed.

“Because it doesn’t matter. The past is over. Shit happened. Shit I don’t like to talk about because I’ve made some mistakes. I fucked myself over. And meeting you? You made me focus on the present, and focusing on the present, with you, felt so good I never wanted to leave it. Not for two seconds. So yeah, when you asked me questions about my past, I may have changed the subject,” he says. “And I’m sorry that it hurt you. It was never intentional. I was never trying to shut you out.”

I exhale, getting lost in his penetrating blue-green stare.

“And another reason why I kept you at arm’s length,” he continues, “is because the last woman, I loved her so hard she slipped through my fingers. I loved her so hard it pushed her away. It was a goddamned blessing in disguise, but I didn’t want to do that to you, Aidy. You’re a free spirit. I’m not. I didn’t want to scare you.”

My shoulders fall, and I breathe him in again, my resolve softening by the second.

“But in trying to hold back,” he says, “I lost you anyway.”

I place my palm flat against his chest, feeling the steady drum of his beating heart. “I hear you, Ace, and I appreciate what you’re saying, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m always going to be second to Kerenza.”

His expression darkens, his brows furrowing.

“No. No, no, no. That’s where you’re wrong.” Ace inhales, his shoulders rising and lips forming a straight line. “God, I have so much to tell you.”

Ace cups my chin, tilting my lips toward his, and I can feel myself beginning to tremble. He leans closer, depositing a kiss on the top of my forehead, and I listen as he drags the scent of my hair into his lungs.

“Kerenza stopped by tonight,” he says, his words crushing my hopeful spirit. “The journal? It was written by my best friend. She left it at my door a couple months ago, thinking it would help me find peace with the situation.”

“Wait, so . . .”

“She thought it would give me closure,” he scoffs. “Why would I want to read about how my best fucking friend was sleeping with my fiancée? We grew up together for Christ’s sake. He was like a brother to me. And that self-absorbed asshole had the nerve to keep a diary of his affair, like it was his latest art piece.”