LIFE BEFORE DAMAGED VOL. 10 (THE FERRO FAMILY) (2 page)

J
on
and his date leave first. We wait, making sure the paparazzi camped outside our gates follow them, before taking Jon’s car and heading toward Manhattan. The entire drive, my hands rhythmically tighten around then release the steering wheel, my leather gloves creaking. I’m a nervous wreck, and Gina can tell.

She places a hand on my thigh. “Pete? What’s the matter?”

I turn to her briefly, taking my eyes off the road only a fraction of a second. Her concerned eyes temper my anxiety. I don’t want her worried about me.

“Nothing. I’m just hoping you like what I have planned for us tonight.” With a gloved finger, I draw a line along her jaw. She dips her head down to kiss my finger and smiles.

“I’m sure I’ll love it. We’re together, right? And without any cameras following us, it’ll be wonderful.”

And Gina is right. The date is fantastic. We walk around various Christmas sites and attractions in the city. Gina plays tour guide in all her favorite spots, stopping to stare at the elaborate window displays at Macy’s. Her eyes light up with wonder in each new place. She tries coaxing me into taking a picture on Santa’s lap, but there’s only so much pussy-whipping a man can take. I’m not doing that.

"Awh. Come on, Pete!" Gina tugs on my hand, but I don't budge. She stomps her feet like a spoiled toddler. It's cute but also the opening shot in a battle of wills. "You're a big ol' Grinch! You know that, right? Do this for me? Please?" She folds her hands together pleadingly while batting her eyelashes.

I stuff my hands in my pockets and step in closer, towering over her. I lean in, my lips barely touching her ear. I wait a bit, letting the tension build as I breathe heavily in her ear. I drop my voice to a low whisper. "If anyone sits on a lap tonight, it's you on mine, and it sure as hell won't be with a department store elf hanging over our shoulder." I straighten, watching her reaction.

Her eyes go wide, and her breath quickens. I take a step back, leaving her with promises of things yet to come, confident my clever distraction will spare me from the photo op. A couple steps further, I notice she hasn't caught up with me. New York City feels crowded on any day of the year, but during the holidays it's mayhem. We could easily get separated due to the thick waves of people all pushing through the streets at once. I crane my neck, searching for Gina in the crowd. My stomach sinks as I finally spot her.

She's talking to one of Santa's elves at the front of the line for photos, handing him our admission fee and waving me over, a huge, victorious grin on her face.

Shit! The sound of a whip cracks inside my head and I grudgingly join her to pose with Santa.

"Ho, ho, ho," Santa says jovially. I note a twinkle in his eye, but it looks more like amusement at my situation than Christmas spirit. "And what would you like for Christmas, young man?"

Gina giggles from Santa's right knee as she motions to Santa's left knee. "All he wants for Christmas is a picture with you, Santa," she says innocently, leaving me no escape. With a grimace, I sit as lightly as possible on Santa's knee, then spring up as soon as the flash goes off. Gina gracefully stands and blows Santa a kiss, before bouncing off to retrieve the photo from the elves. Santa lets out another booming laugh before standing to shake my hand--gifting me the opportunity to reclaim a shred of my dignity.

"Life is short," Santa says softly with a wink. "Enjoy it." He returns to his chair, already greeting the children in line behind us.

Back outside and heading for our next destination, we walk hand in hand along the cold winter street again. Her free hand holds the embarrassing portrait of us with Santa out for me to see. I peer down my nose at the offensive image, wallowing in defeat. "So is this really part of your tradition? The picture on Santa's lap? I didn't see any other adults posing for a photo with Old St. Nick."

She turns her head from left to right, making sure she doesn't step on anyone as we weave our way through the crowds. "Nope. First time in years--not since I was twelve-years-old at least."

I stop and pull her back. "So why did we just sit on Santa's lap?"

"To see if you'd do it." She winks and stretches to give me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Where to next?"

"The Christmas show at Radio City Music Hall." Gina's face lights up.

Mr. Granz usually takes her to see the Nutcracker, but I decided to mix things up a bit. Throughout the performance, her legs twitch as if she’s holding herself back from dancing along. She tries to hide it, but I see her bottom lip tremble and a tear slide down her cheek when the Rockettes do their homage to the Nutcracker.

I spend the entire show fumbling with that little box hidden in my pocket.

After the show, I take her to Roberto's restaurant. We haven't been back here since our first date in the city. She seemed to enjoy the gold pizza, so I made plans with Roberto to have it ready for us.

We sit in a private corner with no curious eyes watching us and no camera flashes indicating our picture is being taken. The lighting is muted, the music is soft, the mood is nothing short of enchanting.

After the waiter fills our glasses, he retreats to give us some much-needed privacy. I raise my glass to her in a salute. "Congratulations on another semester. Only one more to go. So what is my future Bachelor of Business Administration graduate going to do with her shiny new diploma? Any ideas?"

She taps a finger on her chin. "Hmmm. Let's see. Once I have my BBA degree, I think I might try for my MRS degree and marry a really hot guy." She leans against the table, pushes the bread basket to the side, and drops her voice to a whisper like she's letting me in on a big secret. She looks from side to side, pretending to make sure no one is listening. "And I don't mean just any guy, I'm talking about a smoking hot guy--like a puddle of drool hot."

The more she talks, the more my chest puffs up. Other women's opinions of me never really counted for much. I knew they lusted over my reputation, attracted by my name and money. That reaction was a given. But to have Gina describe her attraction to me never gets old. She isn't interested in the Ferro family package. She's just interested in me.

I sip my wine and watch her eyes sparkle with mischief.

"So do you think Jon would be down for that? Is he the marrying kind?"

I choke on my wine. "Jon?"

Gina giggles wickedly as I dab my chin with my napkin.

I shake my head. "Seriously, though. Have you thought about it? Graduate school, getting your MBA maybe?"

She shrugs her shoulders and scrunches her eyebrows together, considering. "I honestly don't know, Pete. Before I met you, I planned for the life I was expected to live. First my BBA, then my MBA, all leading up to becoming CEO of Granz Textiles when my Dad retires. It was never what I wanted to do. But now?" She exhales and I feel the weight of her words, filled with both melancholy and hope.

"Gina, you can do whatever you want. There are no limits here. No one is telling you what you should or shouldn't do anymore. Whatever you want, I'm behind you. What's it gonna be? Off the top of your head, the first thing that comes to your mind. What do you see yourself doing with the rest of your life?"

I feel the toe of her shoe rub up against my pant leg, caressing the side of my calf. It's distracting, but comforting too. It reminds me that I want to spend the rest of my life impassioned by her subtle touch.

She picks up her spoon and studies her reflection in it as if it'll give her answers. Regretfully, she puts it back down on the table.

"I don't want to be stuck in a huge house all day tending to the staff, that's for sure. I want a simple life I can enjoy with my handsome husband--and maybe," her eyes lift tentatively into mine, "maybe my own dance studio."

I put my glass down on the table and lean back into my chair. "Then that's what we'll do."

Her smile is radiant, and I want to stay lost in it forever. Roberto interrupts our conversation, serving our golden slices ceremoniously. He deposits Gina's plate in front of her first. "Signorina! How good it is to see you again."

"It's wonderful to see you too, Roberto. Yours is the best pizza on the planet, and I'm honored to be able to enjoy it a second time."

Roberto claps his hands together and beams at her. "Signore Ferro is treating you well, then, sì?"

Gina winks in my direction. "Meh! That stronzo? He's a little rough around the edges, but most of the time he's okay."

The room echoes with the boom of Roberto's laughter. He stretches his arms out wide, placing one on the back of my chair and one on the back of Gina's. He shifts his weight in my direction and claps me once on the back. "Never let go of this one, Signore Ferro."

My eyes lock on Gina's as I answer. "I don't plan to, Roberto." He claps my back again and returns to the kitchen, barking out orders to his staff in Italian.

I rub my bottom lip with a finger, watching her closely. "I see you've been brushing up on your Italian. So, I'm an asshole, am I?"

She lifts one shoulder, the one with the elaborate rose tattoo, and smiles sweetly. "Sometimes, but I love you just the way you are." She lifts her slice of pizza from off of her plate and bites off the tip. Her eyes flutter closed, and she moans, visibly enjoying the taste.

With a mouth still half full she says, "Omigod, Pete. Can we hire Roberto as our chef?"

I lift up my own slice and take a bite, pondering what she just said. "We already have a chef. Don't you like him?"

Her brows pull in, and she tilts her head to the side. "About that. Peter, it'll be many years before the Ferro Mansion is yours and the idea of living in the same house as your family--" She exaggerates a full body shudder. "I thought, maybe, after the wedding we could get a place of our own. Maybe an apartment in the city or a house by the water. Just you and me. I know your quarters are big enough to give us whatever privacy we want, but it's not going to be our house for a long time still. Wouldn't it be nice to have sex on the breakfast table without worrying about someone walking in on us?"

"Um... Did I just hear you say you want me to buy you a house so you can jump me on the breakfast table? You drive a hard bargain, but your terms sound reasonable enough. How big are we talking here?"

"The breakfast table? Well, that's kind of insulting. My ass isn't that wide, we don't need a very big breakfast table for banging on it." She shifts in her chair, trying to peek at her rear end.

"No, smartass. The house. How big of a house do you want?" The visual itself, the thought of being able to make love to her wherever, whenever, however, without anyone else interrupting is appealing. She's right. My family's house is huge, but it sometimes feels like there are eyes everywhere. It's one of the many reasons I never brought girls home with me before Gina.

"You'll need a library," she begins, ticking rooms off on her fingers, "and we'll need a room large enough to dance in, a bedroom for us, and maybe a nursery or two?" She bites down on her lower lip and chews nervously, waiting for my response.

It's an indirect question--do I want to have kids with her?

I suddenly realize we've never talked about this outside my mother's contract, but it's obviously something she's given a great deal of thought. I momentarily forget we're in a restaurant, my chest expanding, pulse quickening. Gina's studying my reaction closely, so I try to stay as neutral as possible. I've spent my entire adult life trying not to accidentally have kids, but with Gina, the thought is heartwarmingly overwhelming. I place my hand over my pocket, feeling the ring box tucked away. She really does make me want to have it all.

"How about we get a house with three nurseries, just in case we get carried away." My lips tug up on one side, waiting for her reaction. I never know what to expect of her.

"Overachiever." Her tone sounds sarcastic, but her face radiates happiness, her worry completely gone. We don't go into specifics, but the simple knowledge that we both want a family together eventually is all we need for now.

After dinner, we step out into the wintry night air. Gina wraps her arms around my waist and looks up, a tired smile on her face.

“Thank you for an amazing evening, Pete. You really were listening to me, weren't you?”

I look up at the night sky, take a deep breath, and smile down at her. It’s time. “This date isn't quite over yet. There’s one more place I want us to go.”

I take Gina's hand, lacing our fingers together, and head toward the other side of the street, but she tugs me back. "Pete, are you sure we shouldn't just go home? Please? It's late, and I'm tired."

She places her hand in front of her mouth as she yawns and rests her head on my chest, over my coat. Wrapping my arms around her, I stroke her hair, brushing it out of her face, and lift her chin with a finger. "Just this last thing. I promise it won't take long, and you won't regret it. For me?"

I bend down and drop a small kiss on each of her heavy eyelids. I feel bad for insisting, but I want everything to be perfect.

Lazily, she nods her head and mumbles a small, "Mmmhmmm," allowing me to lead her away.

M
y entire life
I’ve never felt this way—fear mixed with dread, mingled with happiness and exhilaration. It scares the living shit out of me. What if she says no? My mother doesn't realize it yet, but Gina no longer has anything to lose by refusing to marry me. I'm the only one who could still go to jail for arson and manslaughter if she refuses my proposal. She won't, though. She's the one protecting me now, and she'll take my ring at the official party, to keep me safe. New Year's Eve won't be our engagement, though—it'll be a technicality.

Tonight is different. Tonight isn’t about my mother's blackmail. Tonight is about Gina and me. I need to know if she really wants to be my wife, or if she simply wants me to be a free man. I also need to make her see that I’m sincere. Tonight, she’ll know just how much I really love her.

We walk along 5th Avenue, and I help guide her, making sure she doesn't trip on anything. “Pete? Is the blindfold really necessary? ”

“Don’t worry, Gina. We’re almost there. Just a couple more steps.”

We've arrived at the Rockefeller Center Channel Gardens. I place my hands on her shoulders and turn her body, so she’s facing the tree. An archway of tall, golden angels light the path to an elaborately decorated Norway Spruce twinkling against the night sky. I can’t wait to see her face when she sees it.

Standing behind her, I undo the knot behind her head and place a kiss on her jaw before removing her makeshift blindfold and stuffing it in my coat pocket. I reposition myself beside her, making sure to see her face clearly. I want to remember every detail of our first Christmas together. I’ve never cared much about this particular holiday—or any holiday for that matter—but she makes me want to care, even if just to see her be happy.

Gina’s face lights up with a huge grin and her eyes sparkle with the reflection of the thousands of little lights before us. She lets out this high-pitched squeak and jumps up, latching onto my neck and covering my face with tiny kisses. I spin her around, which makes her squeal once more, and put her back down on her feet. She turns back to the tree in awe and wonder.

“You remembered!” Both her hands are clasped in front of her, close to her heart.

I hold out my elbow, and she hooks her arm in mine. We walk along the Channel Gardens toward the tree to get a closer look. Thankfully, the Plaza at Rockefeller Center is almost deserted at this time of night, save a handful of people on the other side of the giant tree. Normally this place is packed, but it’s late and cold. Most of the tourists have gone back to their hotels. I walk us to a spot where we won’t have any curious onlookers. I want this moment to be as private as possible.

Since she isn’t looking at me, I make my move. I retrieve the little box that has been burning a hole in my pocket, and my clammy hands start to shake. Fuck! I’ve beaten the crap out of men twice my size, sometimes taking on more than one guy at a time and never felt anxiety like this. When I open the box, the lights of the tree make the ring come to life, begging to circle her finger.

Taking a deep breath, I go down on one knee and hold up the ring to her. It only takes her a moment to realize what’s going on, but for me, it feels like an eternity. She turns around, her eyes searching until she sees me kneeling by her feet. Her eyebrows knit together in the middle, and she gets that cute confused look she gets when I’ve done something she thinks is asinine. Her eyes cut to the ring, sitting in the box and her smile grows wide.

“Oh, Pete! I don’t understand. I thought...”

I don’t let her finish her sentence. The words are right there, and they want to come out. If I wait, I’ll lose my nerve. “I know. Our official engagement isn’t supposed to be until New Year’s Eve, but I wanted to do this tonight, just you and me.”

Her eyes glisten, filling with unshed tears. Every part of me is screaming to get up and pull her into my arms, but I hold myself back, I need to say it all. I won't do this half-assed.

There are things she needs to hear, so I work up the nerve to say them. “You deserve so much more than a pre-arranged business proposal, scheduled dates, and planned social appearances. I want to make your fairytale dreams come true. I love you, Gina.”

Gina extends her hand toward the box. She's half crying, half laughing. I pull the ring back, slightly out of her reach. I need to make sure that she knows what this proposal is about.

“Before you answer, keep in mind that this isn’t about the contract or keeping me out of jail. Tonight I ask you this because I love you.”

I pause and take a deep, shaky breath. “Regina Granz, will you marry me?”

Her hands go to her mouth, stifling her sobbing laughter. There’s something magical in that suspended moment. She’s about to say yes, I can tell, and I feel like my heart is going to explode out of my chest.

Instead, a sharp pain pierces my side, and my whole world rips away from me.