Page 59 of Fractured
“Should we expect a little baby Russo soon?”
I put my arm around her waist tight and tuck her under my shoulder to protect her, and she curves her body into mine and hides her face in my chest. It feels good to have her there, to be the one to shelter her, to make her feel safe, and my chest puffs out a bit that she needs me for once.
The doorman opens the doors for us as we make our way in. Even though we’re in the building’s safety, I still hold her under my arm, guiding her to the banquet hall. I grab her hand as I reach to open the door.
The room is buzzing with voices, the clink of glasses and chatter echoing around the room. It’s crowded. It’s one of the larger banquet halls, larger than the one we held our wedding in.
I spot my parents gathered with a group of men talking, and my mother is standing beside him. She turns as we approach and comes to hug us both and kiss Isabella’s cheek, leading us over to where the group with my father stands. Everyone turns to welcome us. My father leans in and kisses Isabella on the cheek.
“So nice to see you again, Isabella. Has my son been treating you like the queen you are?”
She beams at him with one of her polite smiles as he steps back from kissing her on the cheek.
“I am well, thank you. And I am not a queen, just a wife.”
He gives me one of those looks and then looks back at Isabella and smiles.
“I’m glad to hear it. Shall we take our seats? Dinner is about to start.”
He pulls my mother to his side as we make our way over to the tables. I pull out Isabella’s chair. She is still smiling. I tucked her into her seat and take my place beside her. My father and mother sit opposite us. Our first course is served, and the conversation flows around the table, and Isabella joins in when asked questions about her job at the museum.
She’s lively and smart, she has an excellent sense of humor. I've never seen this side of her. This elegant and poised woman shows no signs of the shy, quiet girl who was sitting in the car, refusing to believe in anything.
Dinner is concluded, and the waiters come in and clear the table. My parents make their excuses to mingle with the other guests, and most of the table leaves to join them. I call thewaiter over and ask him to bring Isabella a cup of coffee. I know how she likes her coffee after supper. She’s been doing it all week, and I took notice.
She’s not much of a drinker, or so she’s told me. A few minutes later, he comes back and sets the cup in front of me, and I slowly slide it over in front of her. She looks at me, her eyes go wide, and then she gives me one of those smiles.
The one she’s only given Anna or Sebastian. It’s the second time today that I’ve been successful. I made her blush by speaking Italian, and now I’m giving her a cup of coffee.
A cup of coffee, not the diamonds, not the earrings, not the dress, a simple coffee, and I get that smile I’ve been looking forward to since she smiled at Sebastian in the sitting room that first night.
“Thank you. I’ve been dying for a cup.” She touches my hand briefly, and tingles shoot up my arm. The aches in my chest eased up. I smile and incline my head while taking a sip of my drink.
She cradles the cup between both her hands, blowing across the top as she takes a sip. There is something about the way she blows on that cup that’s charming. I don’t think the coffee is even hot enough that it would need cooling, but she does it anyway, every time with every cup I’ve ever seen her drink.
Isabella sets her cup down, looking out over the crowded room. I study her face from the side. That top pouty lip, her green eyes taking in everything and everyone in the room. She really doesn’t miss a thing. She just watches, never saying a word.
“Are you enjoying your evening?”
“Yes, actually.” She picks up her coffee, holding it to her chest.
“Good, I want you to relax and have fun for once.” She nods and takes a sip, letting out a softahhh.
I can’t help but chuckle, “That good, hey? Maybe I should havea cup.”
She giggles, rocking in her seat to the side a little. I hold my finger up and wave a waiter over. I nod but Isabella, indicating if she’d like another cup. She waves her head no and takes another sip, setting her cup down.
Our table is mostly empty now. The last couple smiles our way and gets up to leave. It’s just her and me sitting at the table watching the crowd. And I can feel the change coming over her. With no one left to charm, she slowly shuts down, sitting straighter in her chair, hands woven tightly together, rubbing her thumbnail with her forefinger.
She finally looks up at me. Her eyes are gentle and soft.
“Did you plan on bidding on the auction tonight?”
Taking the cup and saucer from the waiter, I set it on the table and pick up my cup to take a sip.
“I hadn’t really thought about it. There wasn’t anything that I was interested in. We just had to make our appearances tonight, showing support for the cause. My father will do the bidding for our family. But if there is anything you’re interested in, please let me know. I’ll grab us a paddle.”
Her eyes go wide and her cheeks flush. She sucks in her bottom lip and her little white teeth bite into it. She looks back at the table. I almost want to chuckle, but I hold it in. Maybe she likes the idea of a paddle and not the bidders’ paddle. I have a variety she could experiment with.
