"Nevermind her, we're going anywhere that's not here," said the brunette, grabbing her coat off the couch and forcing Kenny to backtrack. "We'll pick the one when I get back?" she said, looking back at me with a smile, sounding excited.
It had taken me all this time to place her voice, having only ever heard it over Zoom calls. I took a step forward and looked her in the eye for the first time since getting here.
"Willow Brady?" I exclaimed, covering up my surprise with a quick smile. "Yes, of course. I may have found you something even better than what we talked about."
So this was the face behind the caked on goth makeup. I couldn't get over how stunning she was. My gaze went back and forth between her and her brother Scott.
"We were never here," said Willow, giving me a quick thumbs up before she continued pushing Kenny into the kitchen.
"Look bossy new girl, I've had a long day-" began a protesting Kenny.
"Be cool, read the room and tell me all about it anywhere but here," said Willow, forcing Kenny out of the apartment.
The door closing was the last thing to be heard before the awkward silence descended between Scott and I.
"Some first meeting that was," I said nervously breaking the ice, my face heating up in embarrassment for not recognizing Willow sooner.
Scott said nothing. He did move closer to sit down on the couch though. I took a seat next to him, making sure not to sit too close. The seconds dragged on, feeling like hours.
"So I'm here. I didn't leave, obviously," I said, looking up at the ceiling.
"Why not?" he finally budged. "What about your dad and your fiance?"
The contempt and disbelief in his voice made me want to put up my guard.
It's not like I stayed because you kissed me. It's not like I saw stars when you did. You didn't factor into my decision at all.
Instead, I went with a safe, "I declared my major. Business school."
"Stacy, that's amazing," he said, immediately wrapping me up in a bear hug.
He pulled away quickly and awkwardly mumbled, "Congratulations. I knew you could do it."
He looked down, refusing to meet my eye.
"You were right. I used you as an excuse to not have to stand up to Don Angelo. I'm sorry," I said, looking down too.
"You were right too. I was out of line. Any guy would be lucky to marry you. I just want you to be happy, Stace. I'm sorry too," he said, taking one of my hands into his and giving it a squeeze.
Then he finally looked at me and I swear the world stopped. Despite the threat of Don Angelo hanging over my head, my world was alright, if only for that moment. I squeezed his hand back.
"She really is beautiful, Scott. I'm glad I got to meet her."
He let go of my hand and got up. The forgiving mood in the room shifted.
"I think we need some space, Stace. I'm happy you're staying, but-" He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, putting more and more distance between us with every step he took.
"You don't want to be friends with me because of something I can't control. I didn't ask to be born into the mafia, Scott," I said, the sting of rejection returning in full force.
"This isn't just about me. You're hard wired into my life. That's my sister, Stacy. That's the single most important person in my humble life. Do you know that she talks to you more than me? She's obsessed with you. All I have heard about for months now is this stupid prom you're helping her get ready for," he said, sounding frustrated. "My one job in life is to protect her. And the sad fact is I don't know you."
"Scott," I objected with a shaky voice.
No more words came out of me when I saw the raw emotion in his eyes.
"I told you about my parent's divorce the very day that I met you. My hopes, my dreams, my insecurities, my inability to connect with people. I've shared everything with you. Until this morning, I knew nothing about your past. You're a stranger, Stacy Kendrick."
"And you're my best friend," I said with a lump in my throat.
I got up and walked to the window. We were now on opposite ends of the room. For an eternity, I watched traffic move along.
Trust no one. Not even me.
Another one of Don Angelo's stupid lessons. Another way in which I hadn't been living.
"My real last name is Luciano. I'm half Italian. I changed it to Kendrick when I got to New York. It's my mother's maiden name. My mom left Don Angelo when I was ten. He got me and she got my younger sister Jenny in the divorce. Remember when we met? When I said I haven't seen my mom and my siblings in a day? That was the first and last time I looked in on them through the window. My mom had another baby. I haven't been able to-"
Warm arms wrapped around me and I broke down. I bawled my eyes out for a good ten minutes, then looked up at him.
"It's a lot. I have a lot of baggage," I said.
"Tell me all of it," he said, rubbing my arms up and down.
"What about your space?" I sniffed. "What about Willow?"
"Space is overrated," he said, kissing my forehead. "And Willow will probably give me a tough time if I try to tell her what to do. So what she does is up to her. Are you sure this is what you want? To stay here in New York?"
I nodded unabatingly.
"Then I'll make some coffee," he said, gently pulling away.
We got set up in the kitchen, sitting side by side at the island, waiting on the coffee maker.
"Ask me anything," I said, ready to unveil intimate mafia secrets if need be just to keep him talking to me for one more night.