Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
He swung open the door with a huge grin on his face but froze for a moment when he saw the two huge Italian men at my back. It seemed more like surprise than anything else, because his grin widened when he laid eyes on Elio, and he became animated once more.
“Look at you! I almost feel bad I had to drag you to this part of town,” he said. “Come in, come in. I pulled out some snacks, if you want them. Best I can do for little Elio is saltines, but I figure that’s alright, right?”
“He can have a few saltines, especially if I knock a little of the salt off,” I said with a smile.
I stepped inside, and Dom stepped in with me, leaving Tino to watch the door.
Sal hesitated again. “Does he have to come in?”
I glanced at Dom and shrugged. I’d gotten so used to him following me everywhere that I hardly noticed anymore.
“I mean, yeah?” I put Elio down so his legs could get a little exercise, and he clung onto my hand. “Gio’s in a dangerous line of work, like I said, and they act on his orders anyway.”
Sal nodded slowly, his eyes still on Dom in the doorway and his hand on the knob as though he could shut it in the big man’s face.
He took a step closer. “I know we just met, but in my mind, you’re my little girl, so I gotta say it. Is your Gio a little bossy? Maybe a little controlling? I just can’t think of any line of work that would mean it wasn’t crazy to have two men trailing after you all the time.”
I flinched at the accusation. Gio wasn’t controlling. I needed the guys as protection.
A small voice in the back of my head nagged that I’d snuck out of the house to keep him from stopping me.
“I promise I can make it make sense to you,” I found myself saying. “Just let Dom in and close the door.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face, then stepped back. Dom entered, and Sal closed the door.
I took the moment to look around the apartment. I stood in a small, slightly grubby kitchen-living room combo. A linoleum table with one vinyl chair held a bag of potato chips and a box of saltines. A brown couch squatted in front of a TV on a folding table that played some sport on mute. There were two other doors, one slightly cracked to reveal a blue-tiled bathroom. I had to assume the last was the bedroom.
I understood why Sal wanted to come to our house. He really was still getting his feet under himself.
I led Elio over to the table a few steps away and put him on the single chair. He couldn’t walk just yet, but he was really getting the hang of cruising, especially with mine or Gio’s hand in his.
Sal tore his gaze away from Dom and gestured to the table. “Go ahead, help yourselves! I didn’t really have time to run to the market, or I’d have a better array.”
I smiled as I pulled a saltine out of the box. It felt a little stale to the touch, but Elio started babbling and grabbing for it as soon as he saw it.
“It’s perfect. You don’t need to fuss over us.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “So, you said you could explain? ‘Cause I know he’s got seniority over me, but if he’s mistreating you, I’ll kick that Giovani to the curb.”
Part of me wanted to laugh at his attempt at parental protectiveness, but the rest rose up defensively around Gio. The guard had been something I’d asked for, basically.
“We had some… problems for a while,” I said quickly. “Gio’s in a line of work that makes a lot of enemies, and not all of his enemies have his moral code.” I swallowed. “Dahlia and Alessandro were kidnapped.”
Sal screwed up his mouth. “What did you say Giovani does again? And I don’t know how other people getting hurt justifies this.”
I handed Elio the cracker. “They threatened me as well.”
“How long ago was this?” Sal asked. “A threat could be made up to justify keeping an eye on you.”
I raked a hand through my hair, then smiled as I realized how Gio of a gesture that was. I loved my husband, and I knew he wasn’t being overprotective. I just had to say whatever I needed to in order to make Sal understand.
“Dom here took Dahlia and me to get gelato during those problems,” I said finally. “A man with a gun showed up and would have killed us both if Dom didn’t intervene. I owe him my life, and I’d like him to stay.”
Sal sighed, but some of the tension went out of his stance, and he finally looked away from Dom.
“Alright, alright, I can tell you’re set on this.” He walked over to Elio, gumming happily at the cracker, and ruffled his hair. “I guess I’ll put up with just about anything to see this little guy.”
The afternoon passed quickly. Sal turned out to be a great listener, and he had loads of interesting stories about Mom when she was younger. Before she had me, before he left, she’d been the talk of Miami, or at least, the Miami dive bar scene–beautiful enough to draw heads wherever she went, never drinking on her own dime, and the best dancer the state had ever seen, if you believed Sal.
What I liked best about all the stories was the faraway look in his eyes when he described how thrilling it was to walk into a bar with her on his arm. Maybe I was just a romantic, but it really seemed like he missed her.
After a few hours, Elio began fussing. I checked my watch and found it had become five when I wasn’t looking. I scooped up my grumpy son and stood.
“This was fun,” I said. “Really. But I’d better get Elio to his naptime.”
Sal stood with me. “I told you it’d be better than a restaurant.”
“You were right.” I bit my lip. I’d considered it earlier, but this only shored up my belief. I wanted him in my life. “We should do this again sometime.”
His face lit up just as Elio began wailing in earnest. I pulled out a pacifier, but I had to get him down in the next half hour or we’d have a full meltdown on our hands.
I waved my goodbyes and hurried out. The driver raced back to the compound, because all Gio’s guys knew the horror of Elio’s meltdowns by now, and we were back at the compound before I knew it.
I opened the door and stepped inside, all my attention on getting Elio down as quickly as possible.
Gio stood at the foot of the stairs with his arms crossed. “We need to talk.”
*Giovani*
I stood at the foot of the stairs, nearly vibrating with worry. I had to keep my arms crossed to be certain Olivia wouldn’t see me shaking.
She frowned. “Is this about me going out? I’m my own person, I should be able to—”
I shook my head. “Please, can we talk in the room?”
She bit her lower lip but nodded. I breathed a small sigh of relief and led the way.
As soon as the door closed behind us, I put my arms out for Elio. She let me take him, still hesitant, and I buried my nose in his hair.
The brief burst of terror that raced through me when Tino texted that they were at Salvatore’s house finally abated as I inhaled his scent. He still smelled like my boy, like the soap Olivia picked out for him and the diaper lotion we used when he got rashes. Sure, there was a little bit of cigarette smoke clinging to his curls from the rathole he’d been dragged to, but above all else, he was my son, and he was safe.
I would’ve swept Olivia into the same sort of hug if I thought she would tolerate it. Instead, she stared at me, concern and frustration warring in her features as she tapped her foot and waited for me to explain.
I savored Elio’s warm weight for another moment in place of checking his mother to see if she was equally okay.
“What, Gio?” she snapped. “Did you just pull me in here for Elio? Because he’s getting there, but he’s not much of a conversationalist yet.”
I sighed. I knew I should have handled the approach differently, but with fear vibrating in my veins, I couldn’t come up with anything smoother.
“I’ve irritated you. I’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t want to fight with her. In fact, I needed her to listen to me. I finally had my first bit of proof.
Her brow smoothed a little. “So you’re not just going to yell at me for going to my—Sal’s?”
I shook my head, and she took a deep breath.
