Deadly Embrace (47 page)

"Nando and me are like brothers."

"Word of advice—never take advantage of a friend's
dime."

"College is not for me," Vincent said, shrugging off the leather
jacket. "I
know
what I want to do."

"Yeah, what's that?"

"Something in Vegas with Nando. We've been talking about it. We
want to open our own place."

"What kind of place?"

"A bar or a restaurant. Maybe even a hotel."

"I like it," Michael joked. "He thinks small."

"We can make it work if I don't have to waste my time in college.
Will you talk to Mom for me?"

"Okay, okay."

"You'll do it?"

Michael nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe the three of us should have
dinner tonight," he said, thinking it wouldn't be such a bad thing to
see Dani again.

"That'd be great," Vincent said.

"I'll call her later," Michael said, wondering if he was making a
wise move inviting Dani to dinner. She'd looked so beautiful the
other night. He'd tried not to be influenced by her beauty—an
impossible task. But now, having spent time with Vincent, he'd kind
of gotten used to the situation, and he had to admit that Dani had
done an excellent job of raising the boy, and she'd done it all by
herself. They could be friends, couldn't they?

He decided he should give her money. Money he would have been
sending her over the years if he'd known she'd had his child.

The sales assistant came over, a gay man thrilled to be dealing
with two such handsome customers. "Well?" the young man questioned.
"Have we decided?"

"Whatever my son wants," Michael said. "And I'll take the
Armani."

"Of course you will," the sales assistant murmured admiringly. "It
looks
so
good on you."

Later that day Michael sat at his desk considering how much he
should give Dani. He finally made her out a check for two hundred and
fifty thousand dollars. Whether she'd accept it or not was another
matter. He'd insist. She couldn't say no.

His next problem was where to go for dinner. It would not be wise
to take them anywhere Stella's friends might see them, so he called
Tina and requested suggestions.

"Come over here," she said. "Max is barbecuing. It'll be all
femily and fun—or chaos, depending."

"You sure?"

"Why not?"

"We'll be there."

"Is everything going okay?"

"It's an odd situation, but you're right—I
should
get
to know Vincent, so that's what I've been doing."

When he finally called Dani, she was initially reluctant. But
after Vincent got on her case, she called Michael back and agreed to
come for dinner.

That night he picked them up in a cab at their hotel. As usual,
Dani looked breathtakingly gorgeous, in a white silk pantsuit, her
long blond hair piled on top of her head, gold hoop earrings hanging
from her ears.

"Hey," he said, thinking about the good memories they'd
shared.

"Hi, Michael," she murmured, wondering why she'd agreed to do
this, although relieved to see that he was obviously in a much better
mood than the other night.

Deep down Michael knew Dani would have been a more caring mother
to Madison. Only he couldn't allow those thoughts to live in his
mind.
Stella
was Madison's mother, and that's the way it had
to stay.

At Tina and Max's house, everyone was gathered in the backyard.
Harry had a bunch of his friends over shooting hoops, while Susie was
sitting around with a couple of her teenage girlfriends, who took one
look at Vincent and immediately began to nudge one another and giggle
selfconsciously.

"I can see it's family night," Michael said, wishing Madison were
there with him so that she could enjoy it too.

"Hey, Vinny," Harry yelled, "get over here an' play ball."

"I've never heard him called Vinny before," Dani remarked,
watching her son as he joined Harry and his friends.

"You
did
know it was my father's name?" Michael said,
wondering if it was his imagination, or were her eyes even more
startlingly blue than he remembered?

"No."

"My name too," he said, pursuing the subject.

"Your name's Michael," she stated.

"Vincenzio Michael Castellino," he announced. "That's what's on my
birth certificate."

"Really?"

"You named him Vincent and you didn't know that?" he said
quizzically, not believing her for a second.

"Maybe I did," she said offhandedly. "I think you might've told me
once."

"Yeah, but isn't 'Vincent' kinda formal?"

"He doesn't like it when people shorten it."

"Well, well, well, this is just like old times," Max said,
strolling over. "Anyone want a beer?"

"Sounds good," Michael said as Tina joined them.

"Why don't you two go sit over there?" Tina said, pointing to a
large picnic table set up next to her three prized rosebushes and a
large patch of grass.

Michael took Dani's arm, steering her to the table. It felt so
good being with him, and yet she knew this could lead nowhere.

"He's a great kid, Dani," Michael said, sitting down. "You've done
quite a job."

"Thanks," she answered coolly, adding a quick "Have you told your
wife yet?"

"Not a good idea," he said. "It's better she doesn't find out
about Vincent."

"Why?"

"Ysee, Dani, I really want him in my life, only I gotta keep him
separate from what I got going on here. Can you understand that?"

"If Vincent understands, then I suppose I can."

"I'll be there for him. That's a promise."

"It's definitely what he needs," she said, relieved that things
seemed to be working out.

"No," Michael said firmly. "What he
needs
is some
freedom."

"Excuse me?"

"He tells me you're always on his case—making him study and
work hard."

"That's what he's supposed to do, Michael."

"He was telling me about his friend Nando—the one he wants
to visit in Colombia. Says you're against it."

"I am," she said, not liking the direction this conversation was
heading.

"Why?"

"Nando's a bad influence."

"What's a bad influence?" he said restlessly. "The kid hasn't even
gotten laid yet."

"Michael!"

"He's seventeen. You and me got together when you were
sixteen
. Don't make him into a mommy's boy."

"I'm not," she said stubbornly.

"You are."

"I have to protect him."

"From
what
?"

"Life."

"Dani—you can't protect anyone from living. I'd think you'd
understand that better than anyone."

She looked away, thinking about everything she'd gone through. She
realized he was right, of course, but could she let Vincent go so
easily?

"Anyway," he added, leaning toward her, "I'm sorry about giving
you a hard time the other night. It can't have been easy for
you."

"It wasn't."

"So," he said, suddenly grinning. "Here we are—sitting
around like an old married couple, arguing about our son. That's
something, huh?"

"
You're
the old married one," she pointed out. "
I'm
still single."

"You are, huh?"

"Yes," she said casually—throwing in a provocative "even
though Dean is always begging me to marry him."

"Who's Dean?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"Oh, didn't I tell you about him? Dean is a very special
friend."

"How special?"

"We've known each other a long time."

"You sleeping with him?"

"I really don't think that's any of your business."

"Is he the one who told you about Beth?"

"As a matter of fact—yes. How did you know that?"

"Just a hunch," Michael said, deciding that whoever Dean was, he
was a prick.

Max ambled over with several bottles of beer and dumped them on
the table. "Who's gonna help me with the barbecue?" he asked.

Michael stood up. "I will."

"You'd better be good at it, 'cause I make the best damn barbecue
sauce known to man. So if you screw up the steaks, you're in
big
trouble."

* * *

After the barbecue, Harry asked if he could take Vincent off to a
party.

"I don't think so," Dani said.

"I think so," Michael said. They looked at each other and Michael
burst out laughing. 'You
told
me you wanted him to have a
father in his life. Well, here I am."

"Yes, but-"

"Let the kid go to a party," he interrupted. "How many times is he
gonna be in New York?"

"And exactly how will he get back to the hotel?" she asked,
knowing she sounded like an uptight, overly protective mother, but
she couldn't help herself.

"He's seventeen, for crissakes. He'll find his own way."

"Only if he's back by midnight," she said, compromising. "We do
agree he should have a curfew, right?"

"Midnight, one in the morning, what difference does it make?"

"It makes a difference to me."

"Hey," Michael said, grinning. "You know what I was doing when I
was seventeen?"

"I'm sure you were a wild one."

"You weren't exactly Miss Prim and Proper, if I remember
correctly."

"You took advantage of me, Michael," she said, quite flushed.

"Yeah?" he said, his eyes meeting hers.

She couldn't help smiling. "Well... maybe I encouraged you."

"You were a naughty little girl," he said, grinning again.

"And you
did
encourage me," she countered.

"C'mon," he said, standing up. "I'm taking you to your hotel while
our
son goes out and has himself a great time."

They said good-bye to Tina and Max, and while Dani was thanking
Tina, Michael slipped Vincent a hundred bucks and told him to enjoy
himself.

They took a cab to the Plaza, and when the cab pulled up outside
the hotel, Dani said, 'You don't have to get out."

"Yes, I do," Michael replied, paying the driver and escorting her
into the lobby.

"Well... Michael," she said. "This was nice."

"Let's go to the bar and have a drink," he suggested, once more
taking her arm.

She found herself nodding, even though she really knew she should
say no. Having a drink with Michael always seemed to lead to other
things.

"Vincent really likes you," she said as they settled at a
table.

"I really like him, too," he said, ordering a bottle of
champagne.

"So I did the right thing?"

"Looks like it."

"I'm glad."

He reached in his pocket, took out a pack of Lucky Strikes, and
offered her one. She shook her head.

"Here's the deal," he said, lighting up. "You gotta give the kid a
chance to see the world before he goes to college. I'll finance his
trip—he shouldn't have to depend on Nando. But he's gotta get
out and experience things for himself. You can't hold him back,
Dani."

"Sending him to college is holding him back?" she said
stiffly.

"He doesn't want to go."

"How do you know?"

"He told me."

"He's too young to make that kind of decision."

"No, he's not. And now that I'm in Vincent's life, you
do
know that I have a say legally."

"
What
?"

"You wouldn't want me getting my lawyer involved, would you?"

She looked at him incredulously. "I don't believe you said
that."

"Then let's not talk about it anymore. We should just sit here
reliving old times, 'cause seeing you is
very
special."

"Don't change the subject."

"I want you to think about it. The kid has my genes, he wants to
find things out for himself. All I'm askin' is for you to give it
some thought."

"Okay," she said reluctantly.

The waiter brought the bottle of champagne, opening it with a
flourish. After he'd filled both their glasses, Michael toasted her.
"To old times and new ones," he said.

"How's married life?" she blurted, bringing him back to
reality.

"It's uh ... interesting," he said guardedly.

"I'm sure you're very happy."

"No," he said, gazing into her eyes. "It should've been you and
me—we both know it."

"Maybe ..." she murmured. Oh God! She was falling under his spell
again, and she couldn't let it happen.

"So, here we are," he said, reaching over and taking her hand.

"Yes," she answered softly. "Here we are."

"By the way, this is for you," he said, reaching into his pocket
and handing her an envelope.

"What is it?"

"Don't open it now. Wait until you get back to Vegas."

"Okay," she said, figuring he'd written her a letter of apology,
because his attitude was so different from the other night.

* * *

Two glasses of champagne later, and Dani was feeling quite
light-headed. Michael still exerted the same old irresistible charm,
a charm she couldn't seem to escape. Then she thought,
Why should
I? I'm a grown woman. I can do anything I want
.

So when he suggested they go upstairs, she didn't argue. Why fight
a losing battle?

"You wait here. I'll go book us a suite," he said. "That way we
can relax, and you won't be worried about Vincent walking in on
us."

"I don't know, Michael," she said, suddenly overcome with doubts.
"You're married. It's not right."

"Dani," he said, fixing her with his incredible green eyes. "You
were in my life long before Stella. I want to be with you, and not
just for one night."

She nodded quietly, aware that saying no to Michael was an
impossibility.

The van raced along the freeway, narrowly missing other vehicles
as it weaved in and out of lanes. The gunman kept on leaning out of
the window to see if he could spot the helicopter. When he finally
realized it had gone, he chortled with laughter. "Mothafuckers," he
sneered. "All it takes is action."