Page 38 of Mending Our Chance

20 Marcus

Sitting in my studio, the tumbler of bourbon was growing dangerously low, and the computer screen was not revealing any new answers. Ever since I had found out about Felicity’s last name this afternoon, I had been too distracted to function properly. I knew I was exhibiting odd behavior—jumping at small sounds, the cold sweats, even having heart palpitations—and Felicity was going to notice. If she hadn’t already, that was.

Felìcita Maria Francesca Saccone Argento. I repeated the words to myself, their scrolled letters dancing through my mind’s eye. Just after seeing Argento at the funeral, I had glanced down at the service pamphlet and noticed the name. And now, a few hours later, I was still reeling from the revelation. I had tried to tell myself this was some kind of joke. At first, I thought he had been there to rat me out. Nope. No such luck. The reality was far worse than my initial assumption. Seeing that name in print had changed everything for me.

When I asked her about it, Felicity had explained that the aunt had kept her husband’s name. Apparently, Gianna had split from the family after marrying a mean son of a bitch. But she took the name as a badge of honor for surviving the ordeal of her marriage, even though traditionally, Italian women kept their maiden names when they married. It was part of Felicity’s name because it was a very Old World Latin rite called a nomen gentilicium and it happened to be the surname of her father’s mother—who was somehow related to Gianna’s husband. Felicity had chosen to use the name in her professional career as an affront to her father, which it really wasn’t since the man’s mother also bore the name. Confusing, interconnected, Old World families and their damned traditions, I cursed again. By blood, Felicity was an Argento—a member of one of New York’s foremost Families.

But none of that mattered. The present, not the past, was my main concern. If Felicity found out that I had been dealing with her father to try and bring him into the business, our relationship would be over. She would have eventually forgiven me for bringing in a faceless nobody. But her father—hell, I was ruined.

As I continued to nurse the bourbon’s oaky goodness, I looked to the clock. Argento would be picking Felicity up in thirty minutes as she had gone to her place to change. There was nothing to do but sip the amber liquid as I tried to figure a way out of this mess.

Had Argento known who I was at the poker table? Of course he did. And he saw me as a way to get to his daughter. And here I thought I had been the one hustling him into a business deal we still had not signed.

Things were going so right between Felicity and I, too. Finally, after all these years, we were starting with a clean slate and making up for lost time. So, do I come clean and tell her? Only if I was the biggest idiot ever born.

On impulse, I flicked my phone on and found one phone number in particular. I dialed.

The southern accent that greeted my ears was like a blast of home. My heart clenched tight. “Hi Samantha, it’s your brother.” I blew out a loud breath, before asking, “Do you have time for a chat?”

“Marcus!” Samantha sounded like she had dropped something. Then a chair slid back, and I knew she was good and comfy, ready to talk to me. “How are things in the big city?”

“Well, I’m doing all right with my business.” It wasn’t a lie. Things were skyrocketing here.

“Mama has been running her mouth ‘round town. She is saying that you are going to be a big executive or something equally as boring.”

“Huh,” I murmured. “Look, I need some, uh, professional help.”

“What’s wrong?” Samantha snapped out of her demure, lighthearted speech and was suddenly all business.

“My honor is at stake.”

I heard Sammy press her lips together as if to keep her laughter inside. She knew what honor meant to a Southern gentleman, but she also had her own ideas of what constituted ridiculous behavior. “You had better start at the beginning of the story, big brother.”

I spilled. My heartache, my feelings—hell, even my guts came toppling out for Samantha to hear.

“It sounds to me like this Felicity is the most important thing in your life.” Samantha repeated, summarizing what I had been saying in that simple sentence. What had taken my many words to explain had been relegated to a concise sentence by my shrink of a sister.

“I loved her back then, Sammy. Do you know what it’s like to have a second chance and then have something happen that is going to fuck it all up?” I bit my lip, wondering at my sister’s past. Did she want her own second chance at love? No, I couldn’t get into her personal life now. That was a whole other jar of worms that was too big for this conversation. “Never mind, forget I asked that.”

As if I had never mentioned her disaster of a love life, Samantha continued and her solution was simple. “Make sure she does not bolt then.”

“And how the fuck do I do that?” I slammed the last swig of bourbon and rose to refill the tumbler.

“Felicity represents your ideals. Instead of running from your values, you are more clearly fulfilling them. Your desire not to fail Felicity is making you do crazy things, like running to this Argento fellow—who, whoops, happens to be her father.” Samantha was laughing at me again without actually making a sound. “It is a good thing, Marcus, that you went to Argento. But you are going to have to be patient with Felicity if she does not see it that way at first.”

“She’s going to try and reconcile with him.” Watching the bourbon pour into the tumbler, I absently wondered why I bothered with the glass at all.

“And this, too, is good! She’s open to forgiveness and new beginnings. I think it will all work out.”

How the hell is that going to happen? I wanted to snap, but when I heard Sammy cover a yawn, I simply suggested, “Go to bed, little sister.”

I let the phone call end, understanding that I needed to go back home, and soon. Maybe in the summer, if the business was going well, I could bring Felicity to my beautiful slice of land that was paradise on earth. Waynesboro Parish might not be much to boast of from a commerce side of things, but somehow, I knew Felicity would love it there.

That was if I didn’t lose her first.

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