Chapter 48: DOM: Chapter 47

“Ready?” Rob is standing next to the front door.

I blow out a breath and nod my head. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Rob chuckles, but my hands are shaking as I pull my jacket on over my dress.

It’s just dinner with my husband, but he was gone for over a week, and I’m unbelievably nervous about seeing him again.

We’ve texted every day and have even talked on the phone, and not just the major meltdown I had that one night. So it’s not like I haven’t heard from him since he left. It’s just…

I step into the elevator behind Rob and lean against the wall.

My ears pop as we descend, and privately, to myself, I can admit the biggest problem about today.

Today is my birthday.

I don’t think Dominic knows. He hasn’t said anything.

And I don’t need him to. Honestly, I usually do everything I can to forget my birthday, so I certainly won’t be bringing it up. But…

I glance down at my outfit and bite back a sigh.

Dom didn’t tell me anything about the restaurant, but he’s always dressed nicely, so I decided to try and match his vibe. And secretly, I dressed as though I’m going to a fancy birthday dinner. Because even if I’m the only one who knows, I can pretend that’s what we’re going out for. And I want to feel the part.

I’ll never admit I had Dom in mind when I selected this navy-blue dress. It’s a wrap dress, my favorite type, but the off-the-shoulder style is not my usual choice. My whole neck and chest are on display—accented with my small gold heart necklace and earrings—but the long sleeves make the dress feel modest. And instead of my usual wedges, I opted for knee-high brown boots—with a heel.

The boots are made of fake leather, which makes them comfortable and allows them to stretch over my calves.

I just did a high ponytail for my hair because not only could I not decide on a style, but curling my thick hair takes forever and I wasted all my time trying on every dress in the closet.

During our brief walk to the car waiting out front, I’m thankful I added my coat. The knee-length tan peacoat hides my dress completely, but it helps block out some of the chill.

They weren’t lying when they named this the Windy City. I don’t know if it’s the lake or what, but the air seems bitter cold today.

From the back seat of the SUV, I watch as the city passes my window. It’s not that late, but this time of year means the sun set hours ago. So it’s up to the streetlights and glowing signs to light the world around us.

November twenty-ninth. Just another day.

The driver steers to the right and stops at the curb in front of a small restaurant.

The establishment’s windows are tinted, so you can’t see in, but a dark red awning over the door proclaims it as Enzo’s.

It doesn’t look like much from the outside, but some of the best places are like that.

Rob gets out of the vehicle and comes around to open my door.

I climb down and adjust the tie on my jacket when I notice two men in black suits standing on either side of the restaurant’s front door.

Dom put security outside the restaurant? Does he always do that when he goes out?

I take a deep breath.

Today is just another day. And this is just a dinner.

Rob stays behind me as we cross the sidewalk.

“Ma’am.” One of the men greets me as he pulls the door open.

“Thank you,” I tell him quietly, then step into the restaurant.

My nerves are already fried, so as soon as I’m inside, my gaze bounces around, searching for Dominic in the sea of people.

There are so many people.

Why are there so many people?

And why are they standing?

At once, they all turn to face me, calling out “Happy birthday!” with one singular voice shouting “Surprise!”

I freeze.

What?

I stare at the crowd before me.

Did they say…

The oxygen freezes in my lungs, halting my breath, while heat fills my eyes.

Did Dominic…?

I force my body to inhale. But it’s choppy because there are balloons and flowers. And…

And…

“Happy birthday, Angel.” Dominic cuts through the group of people looking at me expectantly.

My lips part, but I can’t speak. Because if I speak, I’ll sob. And there are so many people here.

It’s a birthday party.

For me.

My husband’s big body moves closer until he’s all I can see.

He cups my cheeks with his palms. “Breathe, Shorty. It’s just family here.”

It’s just family here.

I swallow.

And I swallow again.

He planned a birthday party for me.

“Shh.” Dom’s thumbs brush under my eyes, and I can feel the dampness. “Maybe we surprised you a little too much.”

I sniffle and bite my lip.

His thumb brushes again. “Would you like a drink?”

I nod.

“Wine or something stronger?”

I nod again.

Dominic smiles at me. And it’s so soft, so kind, it brings me that much closer to a complete meltdown.

His fingers flex on my cheek. “How about a margarita?”

A small scoff breaks free from my throat, and his smile grows.

“No? How about a shot of whiskey?”

I wet my lips. “Yes, please.”

Dominic leans in closer. “How can I deny you when you say it so sweetly?”

He comes even closer, and I close my eyes, letting him press his lips to mine.

He lingers longer than he should—with his family watching. But I don’t push him away.

I lean in.

And I press my lips harder to his.

My hands reach blindly for him, gripping the front of his suit jacket. And I let my hold on him ground me. Sink me back down to earth. Into the here and now.

Dom pulls back, heaving out a breath, and turns to stand next to me, facing the crowd. “I think we surprised her.”

Everyone chuckles, and I drop my chin in embarrassment.

Dom’s hand lands on the back of my neck, and he uses his thumb at the corner of my jaw to tip my head back up.

“Now, before you all crowd my wife for the rest of the night, she wants a shot of whiskey.”

A cheer of mostly male voices goes up, and I can’t help but smile as the wives of the cheering men roll their eyes.

An older man with white hair carries over a pair of full-to-the-brim shot glasses, the dark liquid never dripping over the rim.

He holds one out to me, and I take it.

“Thank you.” I lift the small glass in thanks.

He starts to hold the second one out, but when Dom reaches for it, the man clinks the glass to mine, then takes the shot himself.

I glance up at Dom to see him glaring at the man. “If you were twenty years younger, I’d kick your ass.”

The man grins. “If I were twenty years younger, I wouldn’t have to get your wife drunk to flirt with her.”

His answer startles a laugh out of me.

Dom narrows his eyes on me. “You think that’s funny?”

Instead of answering him, I tip my shot back.

The burn is instant, and I put a hand over my mouth as I try not to cough.

“Everyone, grab a glass,” Dominic shouts, and suddenly trays of whiskey shots are being handed around.

Dom grabs another one for me, then one for himself.

When everyone has one, he holds his in the air. Everybody follows suit. I keep mine at chest level. If I try to hold it higher, I’ll shake all the alcohol straight out of the glass.

I brace myself for his speech, scrambling to build up my walls so I don’t break down in front of everyone. But he keeps it short. And that’s almost worse.

“To Valentine,” Dominic says in his commanding voice.

“To Valentine,” the room repeats back.

Heat fills my chest.

Never have I ever felt like this before.

Dom downs his shot.

And I do the same, chasing the building heat with fire.

Dominic’s arm stays around my shoulders as the first person approaches.

And the second.

And fifth.

And then I lose count. Shaking hands, saying hello, thanking them for the birthday wishes.

After what must be half an hour, maybe more, Dominic is pulled from my side.

My panic at being left on my own doesn’t have time to settle in before someone I recognize approaches. Her dark hair is loose, and her black dress is so tight and short she looks ready for the club.

“Hi.” Her smile is shy and a little guilty. But she offers me a short glass filled with ice, an amber liquid, an orange slice, and a tiny plastic sword stabbing through three maraschino cherries.

She has an identical drink in her other hand, so I gladly take the one before me.

“Hello.” At least this new embarrassment isn’t written all over my face, seeing as how my cheeks have been red since I walked in.

“Sorry,” we say at the same time.

“Me first.” She grins. “I should’ve put it together sooner, but after you stormed upstairs with the toaster, Rob explained that Dom was using me to piss you off.” She snorts. “I’m sorry you were upset, but your payback was freaking hilarious.”

“Seriously, you have nothing to apologize for,” I try to tell her, but she shakes her head.

“No, I do. It was dumb of me not to think about it. When he offered to pay off the rest of my student loans in exchange for lasagna, I figured he was just trying to make up a way for me to earn it.” She does air quotes when she says “earn it.”

“Which I know sounds ridiculous, because seventy thousand for a pan of noodles is insane. But it’s nothing to him.” She shrugs her shoulders. “And my parents only stopped paying for my college because they wanted me to use my first degree and didn’t think I needed to get my master’s. Which is dumb because they always told me school was important.” She places her hand on her forehead. “Oh my god, sorry, I’m rambling. The whole point is that I should’ve seen through the ruse.”

Her energy is so fun and happy I have to laugh. “Well, I hope he held up his end of the bargain, because that lasagna was delicious.”

“Thank you.” She beams. “I can’t wait to tell my mom that. I’m Miranda, by the way.” She offers me her hand.

I shake it. “Valentine.”

“Duh.” She laughs, then takes a sip of her drink.

Wanting the courage, I try my own and hum with appreciation.

“Good?” Miranda asks.

“Really good.” I take another drink.

She shrugs. “Since Dom started you out with a whiskey shot, I figured an old-fashioned would be a safe choice for my bribe.”

“Bribe?”

“A friendship bribe.” She says it like it’s just a silly gesture. But it’s not. It’s more appreciated than she could ever know.

“Well, it worked.” I try to keep my tone light. “So, um, what did you get your master’s in?”

“Art therapy.”

My brows raise. “That sounds cool.”

“It is.”

We continue to drink as Miranda tells me all about art therapy and what she plans to do with her degrees. And for a bit, I’m able to forget how overwhelmed I am.

The old-fashioned disappears, and a server shows up to take my empty glass as I swallow the last bit.

“Another?” they ask with a dip of their head.

I shake mine. “Not yet, thank you.”

With my hands free, I undo the belt of my jacket and start to pull it off. The alcohol and the packed restaurant have made me a little too warm.

Miranda whistles. “Love the dress.”

“Thanks. Dominic always reminds me of blue.” I lift a shoulder, not sure why I admitted that.

“Such a good wife.” Dom’s voice sounds from right behind me, startling me. “You should always dress with me in mind.” Not waiting for me to reply to his absurd statement, Dominic takes the coat from my hands and passes it off to someone else. “Glad to see you two are friends now,” he says to us, but his eyes are on me.

“I like her,” I tell Dom, then turn to Miranda. “My sister-in-law is a painter. I don’t know if you want to know more people in the art world, but I’d be happy to introduce you sometime.”

Her eyes widen. “Really? Are you talking about Savannah Oates? Or I guess it’s Vass now. I’d love to meet her.”

My mouth opens.

She knows about Savannah?

Miranda must see something in my expression because her face falls. “Oh shit, sorry. Was that weird? I don’t mean it in a creepy way or anything. It’s just, well…” She shrugs her shoulders. “She did marry King, co-leader of The Alliance. So obviously, I was going to look her up online. And her work is top shit.”

“Miranda.” Dominic sighs. “You’re making it weird.”

I reach up and gently smack his chest with the back of my hand. “No, she’s not.”

Miranda lets out a sort of startled sound, and I follow her eyes to where Dominic caught my hand against his body.

The way Miranda is looking at us makes me wonder if I shouldn’t have done that.

Should I not have hit the head Boss?

A few of the closest conversations have quieted.

My eyes widen, and I look up at Dom. “I’m sorry. I was just… playing around.”

I don’t know why my voice cracks at the end, but everyone has been so nice to me. I don’t want to be the one who ruins tonight.

“Shorty.” The side of Dominic’s mouth pulls up, and I swear he knows to use that nickname whenever I’m starting to spiral. “I like you playing around. Alright?”

“Alright,” I whisper, fighting away the panic.

He lifts my hand and presses a kiss to the inside of my wrist as his eyes trail down the length of my body, taking in all the bare skin.

“You look amazing tonight.”

“Aww!” Miranda’s voice cuts through the moment.

I bite down on my smile.

Dom shakes his head, then lets out a loud whistle.

All voices stop, and all heads turn toward my husband.

His chin lifts. “Let’s eat.”