Hands Against Hearts

Chapter Two

Noel de Bona.

Him.

All sensation left my body as he stood proudly in front of me, Graham stepping back now, and I stood neatly between them as something else took me over. Rage. It had been months since I had seen him last, months since I had let myself be swept up in the madness of him, months since I last saw those eyes, too wise to be blue, too cold to be gray.

The bandstand's music was nothing but a dull humming in my ear, and my vision blurred around me as patrons swung their bodies in rhythm, sidling up close to their partners, and he stood tall and still right in the middle of it. He looked at me in a familiar way, a deep crevice outlining the left side of his mouth, a half smile that had tricked me too many times to count. He seemed so sure of himself, the fedora on his head sitting pristinely in place and casting a small shadow across his eyes, one hand in his pocket, the other grazing his lapel. Dark suit, dark hat, dark hair. His lips were fine, just as I remembered, welcoming in a way that hurt my chest.

In the haziness of the club, and perhaps if it had just been a few more months or if I had not heard his voice before, I could have mistaken him for someone else. I could have let him pass me by, never the wiser. But today was not that day. I knew him just as he was, recognized by the way he said my name, his homegrown Italian-American accent dripping with arrogance. He was beautiful, the most handsome man in this room by a long shot, and I knew he knew it. He wouldn't have come here if he even had one doubt about himself. He would have saved us both from this crippling confrontation, but he just couldn't help himself.

I was shoved back to reality as my father and Howard approached, my father's hand clapping my shoulder as he passed to shake Noel's hand. Ophelia now made her way nearer to me, moving delicately with that Amos Houston trailing her like a puppy, and she took my arm, pulling me back into our booth as the men from before swarmed around Noel, even Graham and Amos. The only fellow that remained at our table was Billy Wagner, Graham's older brother, the one with the lousy attitude and a penchant for sulking dramatically at the fortune and wellbeing of his younger brother. He smoked a cigarette and sat back in a chair lazily, eyeing the group of men in a way that made me glance back at the group out of caution.

I met Noel's eyes for an instant, and that same pain returned to my chest.

"Did you know he would be here?"

"No," I replied, "I didn't."

***

Howard, rather pointedly against my very vocal objections, offered to house the men for the next month as they worked out the next phase of business. My father, blatantly against my wishes, suggested we stay with them as well to keep close proximity to the business I was supposed to not know anything about.

"You're safer in a home where many men can protect you anyway, Clara, so that's the end of it. I'll have your wardrobe sent over tonight," my father told me after a moment of weak pleading.

Of course, Howard had the room for all of us, but what did I need protection from that would warranting living in a house with Noel de Bona? It didn't matter. I wouldn't necessarily have to see him if he was going to be working all day, and I could busy myself all night. Surely we wouldn't have to cross paths.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, I was being pushed into the back of Howard's limousine by my cousin, who carried that Amos Houston close behind her, and they were whispering to each other, giddy from the champagne and the music, smiling like lovesick idiots. I sat across from them alone, peering out the window at Graham, who was getting into his own car with his brother and two of the others I didn't know. I looked around to make sure Noel was getting into another car when I heard the car door close behind me and felt a presence on my right.