Page 21 of Always

“Did you?” Anika asked.

“Actually, yes!” Marco laughed. “My father has a Formula One car—have you seen it?”

Anika shook her head.

“I drove it for him three seasons. But I crashed last year in Monaco and injured my leg.”

“That’s horrible!” Anika said. “Your father must have been terrified for you.”

“Perhaps more for the car,” Marco said. “It was a very expensive mistake. My front wheel hit the back wheel of another driver—we both spun off the track. Both cars were destroyed. My father was furious. I don’t think he’ll get another. We had been losing anyway, that last season.”

“Was the other driver alright?” Anika asked.

“What? Oh, yes, of course, he was fine. The cars today are not like the ones of old. You’re very protected. Still, the papers blamed me completely,” Marco said, scowling slightly. “The journalists in Italy, they’re like wild dogs. They wanted to rip me to shreds. They said...they said many things. That I had no business driving at all, that I was a hobbyist and a fool, a spoiled child. My father agreed. He said I better come here and take a proper position in his company.”

“One door closes, another one opens,” Anika said, trying to be positive.

Marco looked at her and smiled. “Well,” he said, “I must admit, I’m enjoying myself so far.”

Anika flushed and looked away, pretending to be watching the growing crowd of party-goers. But Marco gently touched her face to turn her eyes back to his.

“You’re a mystery, Anika,” he said in a low voice. “Your sister—everyone seems to know her, everyone has a story to tell. But nobody can tell me anything about you.”

“I’m…I’m not very social,” Anika said. “I don’t go to many parties.”

“And yet when you throw one, it’s the most beautiful party anyone has seen.”

“The Red Line means a lot to me,” Anika said. “My mother was brilliant, and she could have done so many things—if she had more time, or if she hadn’t spent so much time with me. With Stella and me. So it’s her only legacy. And I want it to live on a long time.”

“I’m sure it will,” Marco said.

The song ended. Anika, feeling overheated, said “I’d better go check on the food.” Really, she wanted some air, but if she said that, she was afraid Marco would offer to accompany her.

“I’ll call you,” Marco said, as he released her hand. “This week, don’t forget.”

Anika nodded. As she brushed through the swirling couples, she almost stepped on Calvin’s foot. He had brought his pretty date again, Joselyn. Anika was impressed to see that Calvin was wearing a proper suit, not just a t-shirt printed like a tux or some other form of sartorial rebellion.

“You’re having such a good influence on him,” Anika said to Joselyn, squeezing her shoulder as she passed.

Joselyn rolled her eyes. “He still wore sneakers,” she said.

“So does Tim Cook,” Calvin protested. “So does Jerry Seinfeld!”

“And I wouldn’t take them home to meet my mother either,” Joselyn said.

Anika tried to make her way off the floor, but as she neared the edge of the crowd, she was waylaid by her father.

“Was that Marco Moretti you were dancing with?” he asked.

Anika nodded.

“Did he ask you to dance?”

“He did.”

Bennet gave her a highly approving look—an expression she hadn’t seen from him since who could remember.

“Well,” he said, “I’m not surprised, you’re looking very nice tonight. Stella’s dressed like a drag queen. I’ve told her before, black isn’t her color.”

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