Life Before Damaged Vol 7 :The Ferro Family (Life Before Damaged #7) (4 page)

I
watch
Pete roam around the room, mingling, occasionally pointing in my direction and talking about me. He's playing his part well. The game is on; that's all it is. An illusion. He's letting people know that I've caught his interest. Women walk up to him, their hands slithering all over him, but he gently and politely detaches them and walks away.

Eventually, my parents arrive and Mom joins me in my corner of solitude, taking the seat next to me. She looks elegant and beautiful as always, but I can see the fatigue in her eyes. Dad walks the opposite direction, straight to Mr. and Mrs. Ferro.

“You look beautiful, Mom.” She does. She’s wearing a charcoal gray silk dress. It has a flowing skirt adorned with crystals in just the right places. They catch the light when she moves, giving her an ethereal look. The family diamonds are around her neck, in her hair, and on her hands. Her earrings are small and understated. They were her mothers. I bet she had to fight Daddy to wear those tonight.

“Thank you.” She smiles and touches my shoulder, gesturing toward my dress. “You are a vision, Regina. This gown is classic with a sultry flare, and you wear it so well.” She says the words as if she were proud of me for not dressing like my normal prudish self.

“How’s Daddy?" I glance across the room. "Does he still hate me?”

“He doesn’t hate you, sweetie. He loves you very much. Just between you and me, he felt horrible for kicking you out. He locked himself in his study and cried for hours after you left. He still cries at night, when he thinks I'm sleeping.”

That surprises me. “He cries?”

“Like a colicky baby in a wet diaper.” She smiles at me. “Don’t tell him I told you that, though, you’ll wound his male pride. He’ll come around, don’t worry. He misses his little girl, and I think that he knows, deep down, that he's partly to blame for all of this mess. He may never say it out loud, but he is sorry. You just need to give him time; this isn't easy for him either. He's lost his family's company. He never saw it coming; you did, and he chose not to listen to you. That's not an easy thing to admit publicly. Let him come to grips with his mistakes. When the time is right, he'll apologize in his way. Now, come with me. The Gambinos have arrived, and I want to welcome them.”

Mom and I walk across the lavish ballroom toward Congressman and Mrs. Gambino. I slow down and stop my mother when I see a familiar face standing next to them. It can’t be. My heart starts to race, and my mind goes around the multitude of scenarios trying to explain how this can be happening.

“Uh. Mom? Who’s that man standing with the Gambinos?”

"What do you mean?" Mother looks at me curiously and then understanding flashes across her face. “Oh, I suppose you haven’t seen their son in a long time. That’s Philip. He just came back from an extended trip to Europe.”

My jaw drops. It's Phil, the good-looking skydiver who kissed me at the party. That guy is Philip Gambino? The Congressman’s son? Holy shit, I'm so screwed! When I get home tonight, I am going to KILL Erin for not telling me this important bit of information when she introduced us. She had to know! He’s supposed to be my somewhat-meaningless flirt, my low-profile eye-candy, my little indulgence before I go on a lifelong diet of nunnery. Fuckity-fuck-fucker-fuck! I can’t have him in the same room as Pete, especially not with all the media here.

Constance will kill me!

“What is it darling?” Mom senses my distress and follows my gaze. A whole other level of understanding crosses her face. “Oh. OH! Oh, dear. Well, this is somewhat awkward.”

She places a hand on her mouth in attempted disapproval, but then gets a proud Mommy look on her face. Suddenly, she's glowing with pride.

“Mom!” I elbow her gently.

From the corner of my eye, I see Pete shift at the far end of the room. My eyes go to him briefly. He glances at me, a look of concern flashes across his face and he takes a step forward. My hand gesture is discreet, but I send him the message to stay away. I need to figure out how I'm going to handle this.

“I must say, between Peter Ferro and Philip Gambino, my shy daughter has become quite the catch. You have great taste in men, darling.” My mother giggles like a hormonal teenager, which leaves me gaping like a docked fish. “Oh, what a delicious pickle to be in! How long have you and Philip, you know,” she drops her voice to a loud whisper and places her hand next to her mouth to hide her words from lip-readers, “been having in-ter-course?” She says intercourse slowly, breaking it up into three long, painful syllables.

My eyes bug out of my head, and I try not to screech. I tug on my Mom's hand and try to pull her in the opposite direction, but she won't budge.

“What? No! Mom, it’s not like that. We kissed once at a party in Erin’s building. He doesn’t know who I am, and probably won’t even recognize me. I looked so different.”

I knew Erin used to be friends with Philip Gambino before she left home, but I never realized they had kept up with their friendship. I thought I was her only tie to her former life. Why the hell didn't she tell me?

“Well, then," Mom says taking my hand. "Let’s get this over with.”

We continue our walk toward the Gambinos. We politely say our greetings and exchange meaningless pleasantries, but Philip is engaged in conversation with someone else and doesn’t look our way. When Congressman Gambino claps Philip on the back to get his attention, I look down.

“Son, you remember Mrs. Granz and her daughter, Regina, don’t you?”

My eyes are studiously fixed on Phil’s polished black leather shoes peeking out from his perfectly pressed charcoal gray slacks. Maybe he won’t recognize me. He’d had a few drinks at the party, he was jet-lagged, and it was late. Plus, I looked completely different and I introduced myself as Gina, not Regina. I chance a glance at him and that friendly smile of his greets me. He’s wearing a designer suit and looks stunning in it. His hair is still in need of a cut, but it looks perfect on him. It lets that thrill seeking, skydiving side of him show through his refined attire and demeanor.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Regina.” He extends a hand, and I take it. He drops a small kiss on the top of my hand just as he did at the party. He looks up briefly, his eyebrows furrowed, and I do my best not to squirm.

“Well," Mom begins, gesturing toward the Gambinos, "why don’t we get our drinks refreshed and let these kids get reacquainted?” She ushers Mr. and Mrs. Gambino away, leaving us alone, but not before giving me a wink and a not so discreet thumbs up as she goes. OMG. Someone shoot me. This can’t be my life. My Mom is giving me a thumbs up because she thinks I have a new sex buddy.

“So, Regina. It’s been a while. What have you been up to?” He asks, dropping my hand. Maybe he doesn’t recognize me after all.

“School mostly.” I'm usually good at small talk, but this is not a usual scenario. I look everywhere except at Phil. I'm silently praying that he doesn't make the connection. Honestly, he’d have to have a few loose brain hemispheres to not recognize me, but a girl can hope. He had to have hit the ground a couple of times jumping off of stages and out of planes. One good shot to the head could result in a sucky memory.

My eyes keep going to Pete, who is leaning back against the bar, sipping a tumbler of something that looks strong. Some guy, probably a younger cousin of his, based on the resemblance, is talking to him, but Pete’s looking directly at me.

“So, how was your econometrics quiz yesterday morning? Did you try to show off some bra to earn extra points as I suggested?”

I’m still caught in Pete’s mesmerizing gaze, but I shake my head slightly.

“Uh, no, I-I didn’t have to. The quiz went well.” It takes a while, but when I realize what he just asked, my stomach drops into my stilettos. Oh, shit!

My head whips to look at Phil and his smile widens. He does recognize me. At the party, I'd complained about my upcoming quiz and he’d suggested I show some cleavage to get a better grade. Being the well-mannered lady I am, I give him an exaggerated wave, nudge him with my elbow and say with way too much volume and enthusiasm, “Talk about a coinkydink, huh?”

COINKYDINK? Oh, God! I'm such a dork! My fake smile is going to make my face crack, and I probably look like a clown. Or an ass. Or an ass wearing a clown costume. Philip laughs and places his empty glass on a nearby table.

“Well I, for one, couldn’t be more pleased with this turn of events.”

I open my mouth to talk. He looks optimistic, like this is a good thing. Under normal circumstances, I’d be ecstatic. Who wouldn't be? Our parents are friends. We both run in the same social circles. I like him. He likes me. Under normal circumstances we would be a great match, but I need to let him know this thing between us can’t happen.

The flirting was fun, but I can’t let myself get into a public relationship of any kind with Philip Gambino. If we are seen in public together, it’s bound to get splattered all over the tabloids. Connie will have my head mounted on one of those suits of armor that I’ve seen in the halls of the Ferro mansion. This goes against her plan.

Phil cuts me off before I get to say anything by putting a finger over my lips.

“Don’t feel guilty. I understand why you didn’t tell me who you really are. I did the same thing, remember? I made Erin promise never to tell anyone about my family and by the look on your face, I'm guessing she's still holding true to that promise. Believe me, I totally get it.”

And the crazy thing is, he really does get it. He probably hides who he is from everyone so that they'll like him for who he is--not for his connections or his money.

He places a hand on my lower back, directly on my skin. The touch is warm and soft, and I would love to enjoy it, but apprehension is consuming me. My eyes scan the room, trying to find Mrs. Ferro, hoping she isn't plotting my demise over this, but she's busy going over documents with my father. In the whole room, only Pete is following my every move, sipping his drink and observing from a distance.

Phil guides us toward the tables. My legs are so shaky that I follow willingly. I need to sit down in the worst possible way, and I have to set things straight with Phil.

“Philip, about the party, you have to understand that this,” I gesture between the two of us. He cuts me off again, taking my hand in his.

“I do understand, don’t worry. You’ve just been through a horrible breakup with your ex-fiancé. Everybody’s heard about it. My mother hasn't stopped talking about it since I got back from Europe. You were out looking for a fun rebound. It happens. If that's what you need, that's what I'll be. No pressure. It's okay to just have fun and forget about everyone else. We'll see where things go from there, okay?”

He’s so sweet and gentlemanly, but this can’t go anywhere and I can't tell him why. It’s not fair.

We arrive at a table, and he pulls out a chair for me. As I sit down, a loud screech of feedback comes over the sound system. All eyes turn toward the front of the room where my parents and Pete’s parents stand together behind the lectern. Mrs. Ferro stands directly behind the microphone and starts to make her announcement. Her voice has that false warmth that is classic Constance.

“I thank you all for coming here this evening in honor of Ferro Corp’s expansion. We are proud to announce the Granz Textiles merger into Ferro Corp as one of our new sister companies. Together, our two companies will bring life to exciting new products that will make a difference worldwide, from the fashion industry to the medical field.”

She goes on to discuss the future of Granz Textiles, now that it is in the hands of Ferro Corp, and all the wondrous things they will accomplish. A business executive takes over the presentation, explaining the many colorful graphs and charts flashing across the screen next to the lectern.

My Dad is visibly holding back his anger, and my mother holds his hand, keeping him somewhat restrained. Phil discreetly holds my hand under the table the entire time. I'm a jumbled mess of nerves, wondering if anyone has x-ray vision and sees the small physical connection going on under the linens.

As the executive finishes his presentation, Mrs. Ferro takes the microphone once more to finish her well-scripted speech.

“As a symbol of the merger between the Ferro and Granz families, I would like to ask my son, Peter, and Miss Regina Granz to join us at the front.”

What the…?

Most eyes are on Pete, for which I am eternally grateful, but people who actually know who I am, turn around and gesture for me to stand and go to the front of the room. God, I hate this.

Phil lets go of my hand and pulls out my chair, giving me a little shove and saying in my ear, “Go on, Gina. Just try not to sing. I don't think my ears can take an encore.” He smirks and I elbow him in the side. Why does he have to be so perfect?

I stand and take a couple shaky steps toward the front of the room, but when I see Pete already standing there, waiting for me, my nerves dissolve, and my stride becomes more confident.

We’re a team now, friends. As much as my mother was there, standing proudly by my father’s side while he was publicly humiliated by having his company engulfed by a mega-corporation, Pete and I need to do this together. He's there waiting for me.

I can’t let him or my family down.

When I reach the front of the room, I stand in front of Pete, my back to him, and he places his hands on my hips. He lowers his mouth to my ear and whispers, “I've been watching you all evening. You’re trembling like a leaf, and you look green. Are you feeling ill?”

I turn my head to the side and reply, “C’mon, Mr. Poet, say it like you mean it. Will I soon be blowing chunks? The answer is yes.”

Pete silently chuckles. His chest is pressed against my back, and I can feel his laugh vibrate.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you, Jenny,” and his fingers squeeze my hips.

That makes me laugh. I place a hand on one of his and press gently before letting go. His grip on me is reassuring and gives me the strength to stand up tall.

“Now," Mrs. Ferro says, continuing her speech, "let us clear the floor while Peter and Regina share the first waltz of the evening.”