Liam shook his head. “He’s about the same age we were when we met. Both of us were leading lives no child should.”
Silently, Athena considered her husband’s words. He was right, of course. For an instant, she returned to that long ago day when she ran to the most beautiful man she had ever seen. She smiled then, looking across the bed once more and taking stock of Liam Tesano as he was. His looks had only become more remarkable with age.
She shook off the memories of them in the past. The soft look she remembered in Liam’s captivating gaze hadn’t been so in a long time. Now, the look had the slight tinge of contempt. It was a look their son had almost perfected.
“Roman despises me,” she said aloud.
Liam laughed, carefully setting his silver timepiece to its special box inside a drawer on the night table. “Nonsense, woman. He’s just trying to outrun his mother’s apron strings. It’s what a man does- what he needs to do if he expects to be any good in the world.”
“I suppose,” Athena set down the bottle again and sighed. “He’s probably still pouting because I asked him not to have his hoodlum friends in my house.”
“Tell me, Thea, are they hoods because they live in Queens or because most of them are black?”
“They’re bad influences.”
“My question stands.”
“And if I said both reasons are valid?”
“I’d say I’m not surprised.”
“Well then,” Athena dropped the argument. It served no purpose anyway. It was completely asinine to tell Liam that their son could see her. She thought of her brother Domenico. She never thought of any member of her family, but lately she’d thought of Domenico often. Her brother had that ability to see clearly what others missed.
Roman watched her with eyes that blatantly stated that he knew what she was and what she’d done. All she had done. It was eerie given that Roman was the exact, stunning replica of the man who had sired him.
Had Liam carried half the contempt for her that she often saw in Roman’s eyes...he may have held her in place that long ago day in the field and let her father give her the beating she had so richly earned.
~9~
“Mr. Tesano?”
Candace Strong took an immediate step back when she opened her door that night. She instantly regretted the retreat, sensing a man like Vicari Tesano was used to people fearing him. She didn’t want to be one of those people, but she wasn’t ready to ponder the reasons why.
Pitch responded with a grim look that, in truth, had nothing to do with the greeting he’d received. Almost nothing.
“Thought you agreed to use my first name?” He said to hide sudden unease. The idea to just show up on her doorstep that night seemed a lot less...strange before he got there. “Please call me Vic. Mostly everybody else does.”
“Okay,” she smiled and stepped back from the door, holding it in silent invitation that he enter. “You can call me Candy, then. It’s what everybody uses.”
No surprise there, he thought, taking a quick observant scan of her rich caramel skin, doe eyes, tiny nose and that mouth-
He paused a beat to ensure he had kept his observations silent. She didn’t seem put off, so he guess he had. She motioned toward the living room sofa and he took a seat.
“We weren’t expecting any company,” Candace was saying, disapproval lacing her eyes when she considered her clothes.
Pitch found no fault with her dark capris and tee. He loved the way each garment molded to her very curvy frame. A frown suddenly marred his fierce features when he replayed her previous words. “We?”
Candace didn’t seem to notice the subtle shift Pitch’s mood took from easy to riled. “Mama?” she called looking in the direction of the living room entryway.
Pitch sensed his mood downshift back to easy.
“Mama! My boss is here!”
He grinned, shaking his head. In the distance he heard a voice with the same husky quality as Candace’s. The one in the distance however, was far more sensual.
“Candy chile, what you...”
Pitch stood as the woman’s words trailed into silence when she entered the living room. She and her daughter were like mirror images and gave Pitch a divine picture of what Candace Strong would look like in about 40 years.
Candace was making introductions. “Daniella Strong, this is my boss Vicari Tesano. Vic, this is my mother Daniella.”
Daniella Strong brushed an admonishing hand to her daughter’s arm. “Don’t be so familiar with your boss,” she said in a loud whisper.
“I’m not her boss, Mrs. Strong. Candace knows way more about the place than I do.”
“Tesano?” Daniella spoke as if she meant to remind Pitch who he was.
“Yes ma’am,” he smiled humbly. “Liam Tesano is my father.”
“Well, well,” Daniella’s brows rose several notches on her smooth forehead. She tapped an index nail to her chin and subjected her guest to a thorough sizing up. The task was somewhat of a challenge from her 4’9 to his 6’8. “My Candy said you all looked like heaven on earth, but those compliments don’t do you a bit of justice.”
“Mama!” Mortified, Candace dropped her forehead to her palm.
Pitch laughed while Daniella tried to look apologetic.
“Lawd, looks like I’ve gone and said the wrong thing again.”
“No ma’am,” Pitch shook his head in the midst of his laughter. “Being complimented by a beautiful lady is never the wrong thing.”
