“She can’t, but I can,” a familiar voice teases from behind us. “Make that margherita a large, and this one’s on me.”
In a navy blue suit, tie sitting loose around his neck, Archer Halliday grins as my father nods and takes his credit card.
“Are you kidding me?” I ask, shaking my head at the two of them. “He can pay but I can’t?”
“Mayoral perks,” Archer counters with a laugh, pulling me into a quick hug before helping himself to a soda in the fridge.
No one bats an eye at his comfort in my parents’ home.
The truth is, Archer is just as much a part of the family as any of us. When we were in middle school, I dated his best friend, Jack. Needless to say, like most relationships at thirteen, it didn’t last. Archer and I had almost every class together and our friendship started out with him just checking on me to make sure I was okay after the breakup. He was never disloyal to Jack and the two of them are thick as thieves to this day. Somewhere along the way, though, Archer and I ended up meaning more to each other than either of us ever planned.
We never once crossed the line that so many people assumed we would have years ago. Sometime after my twenty-first birthday, after a few Malibu and Sprites, I asked him why we hadn’t. Not because I wanted to, but because it had, once again, been brought up by a mutual friend of ours. Before I’d even finished my sentence, we both started laughing.
It has never been anything more than the purest of friendships between us. He knows me better than probably anyone.
Which is why I could kill him right now.
8
Carina
“We should all go to Retro tonight. Really celebrate.” Archer’s suggestion immediately gets the attention of both of my very single brothers.
The excited buzz in the kitchen from my siblings catches my mother’s attention. Before I can shut the idea down, using Lina as my excuse to stay home, she offers to keep both Lina and my niece overnight.
Some time between the pizza being ordered and it being delivered to my parents’ house, my sister concocts an entire plan managing to get every single one of my cousins old enough to get into the club to drop any plans they may have had tonight.
After pizza is done, my mom takes Lina back to my house to get her pajamas and her soccer jersey for the morning, and I go to my sister’s house. Knowing I would use the excuse that I didn’t have anything to wear, Valentina insisted I go right to her place before I could even object.
We aren’t here for five minutes before people start showing up. My cousin Angelina brought multiple outfits for me to try on, her little sister Olivia brought makeup, and another one of my cousins brought an entire bag full of high-end hair products from the salon she works at.
I’m still not quite sure how they’ve convinced me to leave the house in a tight, high-waisted leather mini skirt. Putting my foot down about wearing just a black lacy bralette, I opt for a black Beastie Boys graphic tee. Thankfully, there’s no fight about footwear. Angelina and Valentina both quickly agree on a pair of black velvet booties, which are undoubtedly a better choice than the alternative option of stilettos.
“I feel ridiculous,” I whine, turning to check how my butt looks in the full-length mirror in front of me. “Please tell me I don’t look as ridiculous as I feel.”
“You look hot,” Valentina says with a shrug, then nods her head in approval. “I would kill for your butt. Only one of us inherited our mother’s flat ass, and it sure as hell wasn’t you. So, just be grateful you don’t have a flapjack ass, and let’s go. Everyone is downstairs waiting for us.”
Sighing, I reach for the small leather clutch holding my ID, some cash, and my phone. I’ve already been told by multiple people I won’t need money tonight, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.
I grip the banister as I make my way down the stairs, steadying myself about halfway down before continuing. Even the tiny heel on the boots is more than I’m used to wearing anymore.
“Nope. Nope. Hellllllll no.”
As soon as he sees me, Archer shakes his head and points behind me to the staircase I just came down.
“I’m going to need you to march that little booty back up those stairs and put something on that isn’t going to make me have to fight a dude for being all over my best friend tonight,” Archer says, shaking his head.
Holding up her index finger, Angelina motions for me to spin. Obliging, I slowly spin, my cheeks warming when I turn and see that the entire crowd, full of my family members, has stopped their conversations to watch me. Including my brothers, who, by the looks on their faces, seem to have the same train of thought as Archer.
“Daaaang, Mama Carina!” Olivia hollers. She’s twenty-two and the whole reason we’re VIP tonight. Apparently when you’re sleeping with the club owner, it’s no big deal to roll up with twenty people.
“Okay, before we head out, who is taking DD duties tonight?” Luca asks.
While I don’t often join my brothers and my cousins on their weekly Friday or Saturday nights out, I do know that they are always responsible. There are a handful of people at all times, completely sober, so everyone makes it home safe.
“And, no, Carina, not you,” Giovanni adds, laughing. “I have to show a few houses tomorrow. I’ll take one for the team tonight.”
“I have a luncheon tomorrow,” Archer starts, reaching for his keys on the table. “I can take my car, too.”
After a few of my cousins also volunteer, Valentina takes it upon herself to start assigning everyone to carpool groups. Valentina puts me in Archer’s car with her, calling shotgun as we make our way out the door. A choice I’m sure she regrets as soon as we’re on the road, as Archer and I take turns obnoxiously singing along to the punk covers from one of his favorite bands: Me First and the Gimme Gimmes.
Right in the middle of our riveting rendition of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” I stop, sighing with contentment the moment I see the city landscape of Boston in front of us. Knowingly, Archer looks into the backseat via the rearview mirror, offering me a smile that says more than words could.
He knows that if it wasn’t for Lina, I’d live here. There’s something oddly comforting about the rushing traffic and the bright lights in Boston that have always given me a sense of home. When we were teenagers, I found every excuse I could to take the train here. He never understood my love for this city, but he always indulged it.
Motherhood changes a person, though. Settling down in Beacon Hill is no longer a priority to me, but I feel that same familiar tug on my heartstrings every single time I cross over the Zakim Bridge.
As we pull into a parking garage, much to Valentina’s chagrin, Archer and I dance in our seats until the four other cars full of Domenicos trail in behind us. The two of us finish our cover of “Rocket Man” arm-in-arm as we lead the way out of the garage.
Thankfully, the temperature hasn’t dropped much from the afternoon. The warm air feels more like a Friday night in July than late September. Looking like a small gang walking down Lansdowne Street, we walk about fifteen minutes until we see the long line of people waiting for Retro to open.
Typically, the clubs around here don’t start getting busy until ten or eleven at night, but since Retro only opened its doors a few weeks ago, everyone is eager to get in as soon as they can. Especially because, rumor has it, there will be a celebrity DJ closing the night tonight.