Sempre: Redemption (Forever Series #2)(25)

Carmine cleared his throat nervously as he approached. “Salvatore.”

Sal looked at the sound of his name, his face lighting up. “Principe!”

“It’s nice to see you.”

“You, too, dear boy.” Sal grinned widely as his hand swept across the table. “Join us. Have a drink.”

Instead of squeezing in with the mass of bodies, Carmine grabbed a free chair and pulled it to the other side of their table. “You know I’m not old enough to—”

He didn’t even finish before Sal’s mocking laughter cut him off. “Nonsense!” He motioned for the waitress. “Get my godson whatever he wants. Put it on my tab.”

The waitress paused beside him, smiling politely. “What can I get you?”

“Uh, vodka,” he said. “Straight up.”

“Bring him the whole bottle,” Sal chimed in. “Something from the top shelf, sweetheart. Nothing but the best for young DeMarco.”

Carmine forced a smile, but he got no satisfaction from Sal’s words. The waitress returned after a moment with a bottle of Grey Goose and a thick glass, setting it in front of Carmine before walking away. He wordlessly poured himself a shot, feeling Sal’s eyes on him as he swallowed it to ease his frayed nerves.

The burn was familiar. Warm. Numbing. He savored the sensation.

Sal’s focus shifted back to the others, the conversation at the table flowing freely between the men. It made little sense to Carmine so he sat back quietly, sipping on the liquor as he tried to disappear into the background. His mind wandered, his eyes drifting toward the two girls. They giggled, hanging on to Sal’s every word as if the bullshit he sprayed was made of pure gold. Carmine wondered what they saw in him, why they stuck around. Money? Presents? Did they get off on his power? Was it just for kicks? It sure as f**k couldn’t have been attraction.

“So, Principe, are you settling in?” Sal asked, capturing Carmine’s attention again. He tore his eyes from the girls and looked to his godfather, who stared at him with his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah.” He poured another drink. “I’m moving into my parents’ old house.”

“And you have all of your things?”

“They arrived today.”

“And the girl?” Sal asked. “Has she arrived?”

Carmine tensed, his glass to his lips. He set it down after a moment without taking a drink, afraid the liquor wouldn’t make it past the lump in his throat. “Uh, no. She’s not.”

Sal’s expression fell as concern clouded his face. Pulling his arm from around the brunette, he leaned closer to the table, his high-pitched voice uncharacteristically low. “What do you mean she’s not?”

“She’s not coming,” Carmine clarified.

“Never?”

“No. She’s, uh . . . not with me now.”

Tension swept over the table. Sal remained strangely still, just staring at Carmine. Anger brewed in his dark eyes. The others sensed the shift in atmosphere and grew quiet, watching the two of them cautiously.

“You broke up?”

Carmine nodded.

“After what everyone risked for that girl, you’re not even together anymore?”

Again, he nodded.

“She’s off on her own? Free to do as she wishes?”

Another nod.

“And you’re not.”

Not a question that time, but Carmine nodded anyway.

After a bout of strained silence, Sal broke the tension by laughing once again, abruptly loud and genuinely amused. “Well, I believe there’s a lesson to be learned in there somewhere.”

“What’s that?” someone else asked.

“No matter how beautiful you think a woman is,” Sal said, “she’s never worth the trouble.”

The men erupted in cheers, toasting Sal’s words, while Carmine remained silent. Picking up his glass, he sipped the hot liquor, absorbing the bitterness into his bloodstream. He watched as Sal turned back to the young brunette, putting his arm around her again. He pulled her to him, whispering, “Not you, baby.”

She blushed and giggled, while Carmine grimaced. Fucking sick.

“There is an upside, though,” Sal declared, glancing back at Carmine. “You can join in the fun around here. There’s no reason for you to have to go home alone tonight. I’m sure Ashley’s friend, Gabby, would be happy to show you a good time.”

Carmine looked to the blonde when Sal motioned toward her. She smiled devilishly, her blue eyes scanning him slowly, surveying, and judging. “Absolutely.”

Shaking his head, Carmine looked away from her. “No, thanks.”

“Not your type?” Sal asked. “There are plenty more around here—redheads, blondes, brunettes, girls in all shapes and sizes. Just pick your poison.”

“I’m just . . . not interested.”

“My godson, not interested in a woman? Unheard of! Pick one. My gift to you.”

Carmine tried to think of a way to explain it that didn’t make him look susceptible. The last thing he wanted to do was expose his biggest weakness in front of so many. “I’m not in the mood right now.”

“You don’t have to be in the mood,” Sal said. “These ladies know what they’re doing. Ten minutes alone with one and you’ll be begging for more.”