Page 110 of Ruin
Discarding my drink at the bar, I beeline first for the bathroom then, remembering all the times Tommy followed me in there, I turn hard and thread my way through the crowd. I try to lose myself behind groups of people gathered, but Tommy’s gaze burns into me, following me, and I end up pushing through the heavy concrete front doors and into the freezing night air.
The valet scurries off to retrieve my car, but I stand on the sidewalk hoping to flag down a cab. My breath fogs in the cold, sharp and quick, my pulse pounding in my ears.
Then he is behind me, the heat of his anger emanating off him in waves.
Tommy.
“You’re with Antonio?” His voice is low, dangerous, vibrating with barely restrained rage.
I spin on him. “What the fuck do you care? I haven’t heard from you in over a year except for the few times you decided to stalk me.”
His eyes flash. “365 days, 2 hours and 26 minutes since you casually told me on these steps that you didn’t want to be with me anymore.” His chest heaves. “Since you last answered me. Since you let me see you.” He lurches a step toward me then stops himself, clenching his fists. “222 days, 17 hours, and 32 minutes since you last let me touch you. Since I was inside of you. But don’t tell me I haven’t reached out. I’ve texted you every single day, called every single night.”
I laugh bitterly, dragging my phone out of my clutch and shoving it toward him. “Every day? Then where are they? Because my number hasn’t changed, Tommy, and the lasttext I have from you is from right after we broke up. But whatever, I shouldn’t be surprised. Lying has become your specialty, hasn’t it?”
“I’m not lying, Giovanna.” His voice breaks, raw and angry. “I have never lied to you, and I have no reason to start now. You have such a problem with me putting on a fake smile, making small talk, saying some version of what people want to hear as a means to an end? Everything about me that you now hate was instilled in me by you.”
“I regret it.” My throat tightens, but I force the words out. “Every day of my life.”
His eyes shutter, like I’ve hit him in the gut . “You regret being with me?”
“Yes! Yes, Tommy. I regret ever letting you touch me, going all the way back to the first time you kissed me.” My voice wavers, tears building up behind my eyes and threatening to spill over, but I don’t stop. “I regret having anything to do with who you’ve become and losing the part of you that I loved the most. More than anything, I regret falling in love with you, because I’m fucked now. I can’t get over how badly you broke my heart no matter how hard I try.”
“Sweet girl—” Stricken, he reaches out for me, reaches to brush his hand down my cheek, and I slap him away.
That’s when the flash goes off.
Both of us whirl toward the sound and see a photographer crouched by the hedges. When he stands and starts snapping picture after picture, another paparazzi and then another and another come running. Cameras are clicking, reporters shout Tommy’s name, questions are shot at us like gunfire.
Tommy steps in front of me to protect me from the photographers, but the valet screeches up to the curb inmy car. He yanks open the back door and shoves me inside, yelling at the valet, “Lose them. Get her home.”
He slams the door behind me, and the car peels away, leaving him standing under the flood of camera flashes, eyes locked on mine until we are no longer in sight.
49
Tommy
Councilman Donovan slides his phone to me and thrums his fingers on the desk impatiently as I scan the headlines:
Marino Heiress in Secret Midnight Clash with Demonio Mafia Heir
Councilman Donovan’s Campaign Manager Caught in Domestic Dispute
Socialite Sweetheart Slaps Syndicate Son: Scuffle or Seduction?
Some show Giovanna scowling at me, others show me pushing her into the back of the car. The worst is the first one snapped of us, where I’m reaching for Giovanna as her hand slaps mine away. It’s clear from the look on my face that I’m in love with her. That shot alone could put her in danger if it fell into the wrong hands.
Just as concerning if Giovanna were to see it are the articles that include a side-by-side of me with Giovanna and then me with Una later in the night. I don’t have time to read the articles, but a quick scan shows that they are full of speculation about the nature of my relationship with bothwomen, all ending with the judgment that I’m a playboy.
Donovan clears his throat. “Tommy.” He waits until I look up and he knows he has my attention. “This looks like shit. You know I’ve worked hard to build the reputation of a family man, trustworthy, honest, all that. I can’t have my right-hand guy looking like a fucking philanderer. Bad optics bleed, and they bleed up.”
I keep my expression blank, though I feel the muscle in my jaw ticking. He doesn’t wait for me to answer.
“You need a girlfriend. Publicly.”
My chest tightens. “Donovan—”
He waves me off, grinning like he’s giving me brotherly advice rather than trying to parent me. “Relax. I’m not saying monogamy. Christ, you think I never had an affair or three? Having one woman in your life publicly is a good look for a politician, Tommy. Pick one that fits the role—classy, maternal, kind—who is willing to smile at the cameras and hang on your arm when the paparazzi are around and keep the ones you actually like far away from the press.”
