Page 24 of Because I Need You
“Shut up,” Cat said. “I spoke to Dad, and he said Mom was coming to New York for something.”
“When was this?” I frowned. I’d been avoiding my father’s persistent phone calls for a couple of days.
“Last night.”
“And she left when?”
“Last night.” She said it like she wanted to hit me. This was why Lorenzo didn’t want that seat. If this was what he was dealing with at home, good fucking luck to him. This was exactly why I was never getting married. Well, willingly, anyway.
“Don’t hold your breath waiting for her call, Catalina.” I took a bite of the lasagna in front of me and nearly groaned with satisfaction. Natasha was vacillating between her food and typing away, probably telling a friend what a bitch my sister was. If that was the case, I couldn’t blame her.
My sister shrugged a shoulder, “Honestly, I’m done with her.”
“Since when?” I stared at her, setting my fork down.
“Since we delayed our wedding three times just for her and then she didn’t show up or even bother to call.”
I gave an understanding nod and went to pick my fork back up when she spoke again.
“I spoke to Marco,” she said suddenly.
“Jesus Christ, Cat.” I tilted my head back and exhaled, then I remembered Natasha was still sitting there, so I told my sister, “We’ll discuss this later. Stop speaking to Marco.”
“Why? He’s our cousin.”
I drummed my fingers on the table, then looked up at Natasha, smiling. “Will you excuse us for a moment?”
“But I’m eating.” She looked at her steak and salad and back at me.
“Cat. Let’s go to the back.” I folded my napkin and set it next to my lasagna.
I’d been craving it for an entire week, and I knew it was going to get fucking cold while I sorted this out with my sister. I picked up my glass of red wine and started walking to the back office, not even bothering to see whether or not she was following. Once inside, I set my glass on the desk and waited for her to come inside. She was picking up her hair into a bun as she walked in. I took in her attire. Yoga pants, a sports bra, and a see-through crop top.
“What are you doing walking around like that?”
“I was at hot yoga with Emma.”
I shook my head. “It’s a good thing Dad’s not here. He’d never let you walk in with this get up. I’m shocked Loren lets you out like this.”
“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “Can we talk about Mom coming over here randomly while Dad is over there? Isn’t it a little suspicious?”
“I stopped trying to figure her out the night she walked out on us,” I said, which was a total lie, but whatever. I lifted the glass of wine to my lips and took a small sip. “I’ll get to the bottom of it when I speak to Dad.”
“Why are you drinking?” She made a face.
I stared at her. She said it like I had a drinking problem. I didn’t, per se. I spent four months getting drunk after Frankie died. One night, my sisters planned a little intervention. After that, I gave up alcohol. I only had it for celebratory occasions, and even then, it was one glass of wine, one glass of whiskey. No more than that.
“It’s Natasha and my seven-month anniversary.”
“You’re joking.” She blinked. “You celebrate months? What are you, fifteen?”
“I didn’t have a girlfriend at fifteen.” I shrugged.
“You didn’t have a girlfriend at never,” she pointed out. “And this is who you pick? Also, if you’re cheating on her, she doesn’t count as a girlfriend.”
“How do you figure that?”
“What’s the point of ‘having a girlfriend’ if you’re going to treat her the way you treat the rest of them?”
“I introduced you to her. That’s different.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re the one who doesn’t like her, and you’ve never even told me why,” I said and decided to change the subject because this one never ended well. “Also, stop talking to Marco. Why the hell are you even in touch with him?”
“I go to his restaurant sometimes.”
“His…” I stopped talking because my jaw dropped mid-way through my thoughts. Our cousin’s Colombian restaurant was not in the best part of town. I hadn’t even been there out of fear that I’d get kidnapped, not by Marco, but by someone in his crew. It was their MO to hold people at ransom. “Does Lorenzo know about this?”
“Obviously. He comes with me.”
I shook my head, processing this. “He’s doing business with the Colombians now?”
“We are Colombian, G.” She crossed her arms. “Do you need a reminder?”
“Of course, I don’t need a reminder.” I glanced away feeling shitty.
It wasn’t that I wasn’t proud of my roots. Of course, I was. At least, I had been growing up. After Mom left, though? I kind of turned my back on all of it, including that half of my family. Including Marco, who actually was nice, as Catalina pointed out, and technically wasn’t even our cousin by blood, but I didn’t bother pointing that out because it really didn’t matter. We had aunts and uncles and cousins and people we called brothers and sisters who didn’t share our blood, and it didn’t make them any less important. The entire Alvarez family had always been nice to us, with the exception of my mother and her brothers. Those three would kill someone on the spot. I’d never actually known my mom to pull a trigger, but I knew she had it in her. Then again, didn’t we all, under the right, or wrong circumstances?
