Here - Chapter 32


Sonny piddles around the penthouse for the next half hour, trying on and taking off different shirts and slacks, trying to determine which ensemble would look the most apologetic to Carly.

He finally decides on a casual black crew-neck shirt and dark grey pants. He studies himself in the mirror near the front door and runs a hand through his hair. With the butterflies fluttering around in his stomach, he feels like he is twelve years old again.

The brisk knock on the door causes him to stop worrying about how he looks and open the door. Expecting Johnny, he says, "Took you long enough!"

Mike nods at the man at the door and then smiles at his son in confusion, "Didn't know you were expecting me..."

Sonny steps back, "Oh! Hey. Come on in..."

Mike walks past Sonny, sniffing on his way. "Whew...that's some cologne you've got on there..."

Sonny looks at Mike, concerned, "What? Too much?"

Mike shakes his head, watching his son curiously, "No, no..."

Sonny closes the door and offers Mike a seat.

Mike says, rubbing his chin, "You expecting someone?"

Sonny waves a hand dismissively, "Just Johnny."

Mike makes an 'o' with his mouth. He places a hand in the pocket of his jeans, then scratches his ear with his other hand. He notices that Sonny is fidgeting; his son's hands are tapping against his thighs impatiently.

Another knock and Sonny swings open the door.

"Hope this is all right," Johnny offers, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a large bouquet of red roses - about four dozen - in the other.

Sonny takes the wine and inspects the label. 1998 Aglianico del Vulture. Sonny nods, satisfied with Johnny's choice. He is not too sure about the bushful of roses though. He asks Johnny, "You don't think that's too much?"

Johnny shakes his head, certain. He saw what transpired the previous evening.

"Okay..." Sonny frowns doubtfully.

Mike lifts a brow, a sly smile on his lips, "You've got plans, I take it?"

Sonny shrugs, somewhat embarrassed at Mike's presence.

Mike's smile widens and he points toward the wine and flowers, "Who's the lucky lady?" He hurriedly tacks on, "If you don't mind me asking..."

Sonny turns his head to the side, then makes a show of examining the wine bottle label again. He coughs, "Carly."

Mike narrows his eyes and puts a hand up to his ear, "I'm sorry. Couldn't hear you..."

Sonny spits out, ready to defend himself, "It's Carly."

"Oh..." Mike utters, looking somewhat mystified. He asks carefully, waving a finger in the air toward Sonny, "That's still going on??"

Sonny looks at Mike defiantly and snaps, "Yeah. So what?"

Mike shakes his head, "I'm not saying anything bad, Sonny! I'm just, I'm just surprised that's still happening, that's all..."

Sonny sniffs, suspicious, "Why?"

Mike blinks, "It's just that, well," he scratches his ear again, a tentative smile on his face, "I never see you two together...I just assumed..."

Sonny lets Mike's words sink in. And, with a start, sees that the man's words are true. And this makes Sonny feels awful. He realizes now that the virtually the only time he and Carly spend together is in this penthouse, in his bed.

Harkening back to his moment of truth the night before, Sonny resolves that that is going to stop. Today. He decides that he is going to start wining and dining her. He thinks she will enjoy that -- and she definitely will not expect it. He can imagine her eyes lighting up when he actually invites her out on a real date.

Sonny replies to his father, "Well, you know what happens when you assume..."

Mike clears his throat and grins, "Uh...yes..." He starts for the door, "Listen, I'll get going..."

"Did you need something?" Sonny asks.

Mike shakes his head, his hand on the doorknob, "No, no. Just checking in."

Sonny watches the older man open the door and take a step toward the hallway. He recalls the feeling that overwhelmed him at dinner with Susan, the feeling that he was wasting what little time he had on holding onto grudges and guarding his heart.

Sonny hears himself calling after Mike, "Thanks for stopping by."

Mike looks at his son in surprise, a sort of pleased consternation on his face. He nods, "Have a good time. And tell Carly I said 'hello.'"

Sonny catches the slight look of doubt in Mike's eyes, then watches his father disappear into the hallway.

*****

Sonny's palms are clammy as he sits in the limo watching the passing scenery. He has a hard time believing that this is actually his first visit to the brownstone to see Carly. He shifts in his seat, as nervous as a cat near a rocking chair.

For Sonny, this is a big deal. This is the first time in a very long time that he has felt safe enough to put himself out on that limb. He wonders how Carly will react. He wonders briefly if he will scare her away by approaching her like an actual suitor.

His heart is beating fast against his chest and he clasps and unclasps his hands tensely. He does not think he was this anxious during his meeting with Susan.

The limo pulls up to the brownstone. Sonny takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Then he grabs the bottle of wine in one hand. He picks up the large bouquet and examines it with a frown. Too much. He pulls a single rose out of the bunch, letting the remainder drop to the seat of the limousine. He smooths his hair one last time, then climbs out of the vehicle, joining Johnny on the sidewalk.

Sonny starts for the front steps, but Johnny taps his shoulder and points down the sidewalk.

******

Carly is walking slowly around the corner toward the brownstone after picking up a few items from the small grocery a block away. She is depressed, thinking of not being able to see her son for the next week, thinking of him snuggling up to 'Keekee.' She makes a face to herself, studying the sidewalk intently.

She lifts her eyes toward her home and nearly trips over her feet when she sees the limo. Then her eyes move from the limo to the two figures standing on the sidewalk.

Shit, she thinks to herself. She wants to turn around and run away, but she knows that would look pretty stupid. She wants to run right up to Sonny, throw her arms around him, and beg him to take her to bed. But she knows that would look pretty stupid too.

Instead, she decides to keep walking, as if she does not see them.

When she gets closer, she sees the bottle in Sonny's hand. And the rose. She looks into his face and sees his deep brown eyes watching her expectantly. Her chest tightens. No one brings me flowers...

She fights her initial reaction to his presence. Stay mad, Carly!!! she reprimands herself, all the while noting how absolutely gorgeous the man looks in that shirt.

She swallows, clutching her small plastic bag of groceries and growing more unsure the closer she gets.

*****

Sonny smiles as she nears him, shifting the rose and bottle to one hand and lifting the other for a tentative wave, "Hey, Carly."

Carly shoots him as angry a look as she can muster, then walks right by him, toward the steps.

"Carly..." he calls after her, his smile fading. "Come on..."

She spins and looks him over. She hisses, "If you think some liquor and flowers is going to make me jump back into your bed, you are dead wrong!"

Sonny tilts his head at her, taking a few steps forward, At least she's talking to me. He is more confident as he replies, "Who said anything about bed?? I was thinking, maybe, a late lunch...?"

At the sudden smugness on his face, she feels the anger returning and she rolls her eyes, "You must think I'm an idiot! Or just real desperate for attention!" You don't have to be second-best, Carly. Not EVER again!

He reaches out and touches her arm, "Carly. I'm sorry about last night...I just..."

She slaps his hand away and does not let him finish, "You're sorry? Sorry for what, exactly, Sonny? Sorry that I showed up?"

He pulls his hand away from her then, chastened and growing angry himself. In Sonny's mind, she is overreacting. How can she be so mad at me???

She pushes his chest with a hand, her eyes burning, "I told you not to call me! That means I don't want to see you either!"

He knits his brow, showing his puzzlement, "Carly, what's going on? What's the problem?" He shoves the bottle and the flower in front of her, "This is just a little peace offering..."

At his innocent, 'poor me' attitude, she goes over the edge. She growls from the pit of her stomach, repeating the words he'd said to her the night before, "Go. Home." Then she swipes at the wine with her free hand, knocking the heavy bottle to the sidewalk and causing herself a shock of pain from her palm to her elbow. She manages with a grimace, "And I don't want your damn peace offering!!!"

Sonny watches the thick bottle hit the cement with a solid thunk, but, amazingly, it does not shatter.

"Shit!" Carly mutters under her breath, shaking her wrist.

Sonny looks up when she curses and instantly becomes concerned, "What?" He reaches for her hand.

"Let me go!!" she yells, trying to jerk her hand free of his grip.

Bobbie peeks out of the kitchen window when she hears Carly scream, then disappears again.

Sonny holds on to Carly's hand, "Let me see your hand..."

She attempts to pull away again, but the motion hurts her wrist and his hold on her only tightens.

He turns her hand over so that the palm is facing up. He runs a finger gently over the base of her palm, near her wrist. He rotates her wrist slowly. "Does this hurt?" he asks, his voice intent and quiet, looking into her eyes.

The touch of his hand on hers sends a thrill through Carly's veins and she feels her pulse quicken. She shrugs, avoiding his eyes, "No..."

He feels her arm start to relax under his touch. He trails his finger to her forearm under the pretense of following a blue vein beneath her skin. He takes a step closer. They are only a breath apart now. He watches her cheeks redden as he continues his false evaluation of her injury and begins to feel that all may not be lost. "What about this?" he asks in a sexy whisper.

She gulps and raises a brow. Her voice is quiet now, "No..." Daring to look into his brown eyes, she melts, just as she feared she might. She bites her bottom lip and they stare into each other's eyes. She looks down at the rose and the bottle of wine discarded on the sidewalk. Then she meets his eyes again. Maybe he can explain... she finds herself thinking hopefully.

He moves even closer, still holding onto her, but placing the palm of his hand against hers, brushing their hands together lightly. He rasps softly, giving his diagnosis, "Looks okay to me..."

Oh man... Carly feels herself losing the battle. He is so close to her now. She can feel his warmth. She even believes she can hear his heart beating. Maybe if I just ask him about that woman...

Sonny can see in her eyes that she is on the verge of something, but he does not dare smile in satisfaction for fear of her shutting down again. So he waits.

She takes a deep breath, ready to just ask for an explanation. Her lips part slightly.

It takes all of Sonny's strength not to just lean in and kiss her.

"She said let her go, Sonny!" comes a firm voice from above.

Both Carly and Sonny turn toward the sound.

Carly's mouth drops open in shock. Sonny's eyes widen in disbelief.

Bobbie is standing at the front door of the brownstone, atop the steps.

She is holding a small gun in both hands, aiming it directly at Sonny.

Carly wants to say something, but she is so stunned, nothing will come out of her mouth.

"Let her go!" Bobbie repeats forcefully when neither of them move.

Sonny rolls his eyes. He catches a slight movement on the other side of him and turns his head toward it.

He has to do a doubletake.

There is Johnny, a bit flustered, but doing his job nonetheless.

He has his gun trained on Bobbie.

Carly blinks rapidly as images of her and Sonny caught in a ridiculous crossfire fill her brain.

Sonny winces and groans to Johnny, "Come on!" He drops Carly's hand and waves at his bodyguard, "Would you - just -" he chokes on his words then finally spits out in disgust, "Just put that thing down!!!"

Johnny's eyes move from Bobbie, to Sonny, back to Bobbie again, uncertain what to do.

Sonny lifts both hands in the air and turns to Bobbie, "All right. I let her go. Could you please put the gun down now??"

Bobbie does not move. She says evenly, her eyes locked on Sonny, "Are you all right, Carly?"

Carly can only nod dumbly, her eyes wide and focussed on the incredible sight of her mother, the nurse, wielding a weapon at the city's most powerful mobster.

Sonny sets his jaw, watches Bobbie lower the small gun, then turns to Carly again. "Carly?"

It takes her a second to react. The scene is so surreal, she has lost touch with the fact that he is standing in front of her. She looks at him, "Huh??"

"Do you want to go somewhere? Talk?" he asks, his annoyance at Bobbie coming through in his voice.

Then the memory of all of the pain and anger she felt last night comes flooding back to her. The fact that she will not see her son for a week only adds to the emotional stew bubbling inside of her.

She shakes her head, clearing it, then narrows her eyes at him, "Why would I want to talk to you? I got your message loud and clear last night!"

He lets out a breath, frustrated. He really believed she was about to crack a minute ago. Hurt and confused, he throws up his hands. "Fine," he mutters. Then he says, "You know what, Carly?"

She stares at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

He waves his hand in the air, "I have had it with you! I'm trying to be nice here...trying to..." He sucks air into his cheeks. This is what I get for sticking my neck out. He decides to just cut his losses. He steps away from her, "This is just too much work, Carly. Forget it!"

He walks angrily over to the limo and throws opens the door. "Let's go," he orders Johnny curtly and climbs into the car.

"Yeah! Forget it!" She yells as he closes the door, wanting to have the last word.

The limo slowly pulls away from the curb, but not before Carly manages to give the bumper a good kick.

She watches the long vehicle drive down the street then disappear around the corner. Her anger suddenly evaporates and she is left with nothing but an empty sadness. She buries her face in her hands and starts to cry.

Bobbie is instantly at her daughter's side. She picks up the wine and the rose, looks at the label with an approving frown, then gently leads Carly to the steps. The two women sit on the bottom step, Carly sobbing, Bobbie slowly stroking her daughter's shoulder and back.

She whispers to Carly, "It's going to be okay..."

Carly sniffs, gathering herself. She lifts her eyes and looks at Bobbie, a sad smile on her lips, "You know, there is a bright side to all of this..."

Bobbie pouts, "What's that?"

Carly wipes her eyes, "This is the first time in my life that I have been the dumpER."

Bobbie blinks slowly, waiting for Carly to go on.

Carly runs a hand through her hair and sighs, "You know, my whole life? I've been dumped...?" She shakes her head slowly, then straightens a bit, "And it's the first time I came out of a, um, a 'relationship,'" she makes quote marks with her fingers, "without owing anybody anything." She holds up a finger as she remembers, "Or having to return anything."

Then Carly looks down and studies her hands.

Bobbie squeezes Carly's shoulder.

"You know, I deserve better," Carly says, as much to herself as to her mother. "I am worth so much more than," she waves her hand in the general direction the limousine went, masking her sadness with apathy, "this, this thing with Sonny..."

Bobbie listens to Carly's confident words, but she can tell by Carly's eyes how hurt she really is. Bobbie hugs Carly to her gently and whispers, "I'm sorry things didn't work out with Sonny..."

Carly scoffs and looks at her mother incredulously with reddened eyes, "No you're not!"

Bobbie looks to the sky and admits, "All right...so maybe I'm not sorry things didn't work out with Sonny..." Bobbie smooths Carly's hair and says earnestly, "But I am sorry that you're so sad."

Carly purses her lips and studies her mother curiously for a minute.

"What?" Bobbie asks, seeing the questioning expression on Carly's face.

Narrowing her eyes, Carly says, "What about you?? I can not believe you just did that, Mama!"

"Did what?" Bobbie asks innocently.

Carly points at the gun in her mother's hand, "That!! I didn't even know you had a gun!"

Bobbie shrugs and nonchalantly twirls the gun around her fingers, causing Carly to flinch. Bobbie says, "Luke and I know how to take care of ourselves. We grew up having to take care of ourselves. And each other."

"But still," Carly counters worriedly, "I can't believe you'd keep a loaded weapon in the house with Lucas..."

"Well," Bobbie confesses with a tiny nudge, turning the gun over in her hand, "this is actually one of Lucas's water pistols..."

Carly's mouth drops open in utter disbelief.

Mother and daughter lock eyes, each waiting for the other to react.

Simultaneously, they let out deep, sad, heartfelt laughter.

******

Sonny bites his thumbnail, edgy and wired, then jabs angrily at the intercom button. "Johnny," he yells, "thanks for the advice! It stunk!!"

Then he clicks off and gets back to tending his bruised ego.

He can not understand the level of Carly's anger toward him. He concedes he may have been a little rude to her the night before, but she is the one who started it by showing up at the penthouse the way she did.

He shifts in his seat and his feet accidentally touch the roses piled on the floor. He kicks some away and stomps on the rest. He feels like he put himself out on a limb, and she snapped it. He wonders if he is meant to have a real - a normal - relationship with anyone. Let alone Carly.

Forget it. No way am I going to try again with her, he tells himself.

He convinces himself that this was a sign. A sign that means he is simply not the type of man who can 'live in the moment.' That he is simply not the type of man who can afford to have romantic notions. Especially with my taste in women, he sighs to himself, resigned.

He shrugs and scratches the tip of his nose, trying to convince himself. She's not even worth the aggravation. She's nuts. And way, way too sensitive.

He looks out of the window, but his eyes do not see the passing streets. He only sees her face, her eyes, her lips, at that last second before Bobbie-the-Avenging-Angel made her unwelcome appearance.

And, really, she should be apologizing to me!! he calculates.

He glances at the car phone in the console in front of him. He reaches for it, despite his earlier advice to himself, ready to give her a call.

Just as quickly, he decides against it.

If she wants to talk to me, he thinks stubbornly, she can call me.

He nods to himself and sniffs, picking a piece of nonexistent lint from his slacks.

She knows where to find me...