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Where I Wanna Be




  Where I Wanna Be (D’Amato Brothers #3)

  By

  Vera Roberts

  For MESY.

  © 2013 Vera Roberts, All Rights Reserved

  Smashwords Edition

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Book I

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Book II

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Book III

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Book IV

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Epilogue

  Eliodoro “Eli” D’Amato had the perfect life: a beautiful wife, an adorable son, and a growing family business. His perfect life was a problem—it was mundane and routine. He knew Thursdays were pizza nights. He knew Mondays were Netflix nights. He knew Sundays were family dinner nights.

  Eli also knew… he was unhappy.

  When an old girlfriend, Simone Harris, pops into Madre’s, she and Eli get a chance to reconnect with each other. She had traveled the world, loves salsa dancing, and loves cigars. Most importantly, she’s sexy and very available. She makes Eli discover everything he wanted to have and was missing in his life: excitement and passion.

  Eli finds himself in a peculiar situation: does he remain committed to his high-school sweetheart or does he pursue what could have been?

  Where I Wanna Be is the third story in the D’Amato Brothers series. It is a sensual/erotic book that deals with the problems that arise with marriage, commitment, and trust.

  There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.

  - Frederich Nietzche

  Il primo amore non si scorda mai. (You never forget your first love.)

  - Italian proverb

  La buona moglie fa il buon marito. (A good wife makes a good husband.)

  -Italian proverb

  Book I

  Simone

  One

  High School Era…

  This is getting old. Real quick.

  Sixteen-year-old Simone Harris stood outside of her new home in St. George, Staten Island. It was two stories tall, painted in chocolate brown with green trim. It had a big porch and the movers already placed two chairs and the table outside. The other movers moved the family’s belongings from the moving trucks to the home, with each box designated for certain rooms.

  Simone had already picked out her room based on what she saw on the blueprint. It was the bedroom down the hall from her parents. She had to share a bathroom with her sister, but that was fine. She didn’t care. She just didn’t want to be right next to her parents.

  Her arms were folded loosely across her chest and there was a scowl forming on her face. This was the third move in just as many years. Just when she got used to one place, made friends, got to know the neighborhood and the city, it was time to leave. It was fun the first time. It was sad but understandable the second time. It was officially old and tired the third time.

  “You keep pouting like that and you’re going to drag your bottom lip on a trip wire,” Simone’s older sister by eight years, Alicia, stood next to her. She was a little shorter than Simone and lot rounder. There was a sibling rivalry between them, though Simone thought it was one-sided on Alicia’s part. Alicia described her look as bourgeois when Simone thought she really meant bullshit.

  Simone let out a light sigh. “Don’t you get tired of always starting shit?”

  Alicia mocked Simone. “Don’t you ever get tired of being a spoiled brat?”

  “Yes, because I’m the twenty-three year old who’s still living at home,” Simone smarted back.

  “You’re just mad because you had to leave your precious Seth,” Alicia said smarmily.

  Simone continued to stare at the house ahead of her. “Shouldn’t you be upstairs unpacking?”

  Alicia mimicked Simone’s stance. “Shouldn’t you be getting a life?”

  “Apparently mine is more interesting than yours, if you have to mimic me.” Simone glanced over at her sister.

  Alicia got into Simone’s face. “Just remember, I’m older than you.”

  Simone shrugged. “And you’re also fatter than me, your point?”

  “Mom!” Alicia screamed in her sister’s face.

  “Leave your sister alone, Alicia,” their mother, Meredith, walked outside and joined her daughters. She was an older, light-skinned, Black woman with long dark hair. Meredith was a homemaker and already accustomed to her husband’s constant moves. “You run along upstairs and begin unpacking. The movers have already moved the boxes into your room.” She directed to her daughter, who promptly left.

  Simone kept her stance and didn’t budge. “I know what you’re going to say, Mom, and I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Drop the attitude, Simone,” Meredith warned, “this isn’t easy for any of us.”

  Simone smirked. It was easy for her mother. All she did was stay home, plan meals, and go shopping at her leisure. They had a gardener to take care of the yard. They had another worker clean their pool. They had a maid come by the house once a week to take care of their home. As much as Simone loved her mother and everything she had done for the family, she could admit her mother was a housewife in name only. The woman wouldn’t know how to turn on the vacuum cleaner if it was the only thing keeping her alive. “I wanted to live with Aunt Sharon and you said no.”

  “I’m not going to apologize for wanting to have both of my daughters here with me,” Meredith stated. “And you certainly were not going to grow up in that area by yourself.”

  “You make it sound like Houston was the worst place on Earth,” Simone quietly replied. “We had family and friends there.”

  “We’ll make friends here.” Meredith replied.

  “Whatever,” Simone shook her head. “I’ll guess I should head upstairs to start unpacking.” She began to leave.

  “Simone,” Meredith called after her daughter, “just give Staten Island a chance, okay?”

  “Okay, mother,” she promised. I have no choice, now do I?

  Simone went upstairs and began unpacking her bedroom. She loved Houston. She had plenty of friends there. She could visit her cousins on the weekends. She could go over to sleepovers during the week. She had so much fun and freedom.

  Stu
pid dad and his stupid job!

  She was going to have to get acclimated to the new town. She needed to make new friends, get to know the area, find all the cool shops and restaurants. She moved during the middle of the school year, so it meant all the cliques had been formed and once again, she was going to be the outside girl looking in.

  This sucks.

  What really sucked about the whole move was the fact she had to break up with Seth, her boyfriend of six months. He had just given her a promise ring when Simone had to tell him they were moving and leaving within a week.

  “I like you a lot, Simone,” Seth said to her, his arms wrapped around her. “I’ll miss you.”

  Simone stifled her streaming tears. “I’ll miss you, too.”

  Simone pulled out a teddy bear Seth had given her and stared at it. She then punched it. This is bull!

  ****

  “Okay, so make sure you use long strokes,” Nick showed his younger brother through the mirror. He carefully placed the razor against his cheek and did a long swipe. “Always go against the grain.”

  “Against the grain. Got it.” Sixteen-year-old Eli practiced the same maneuver on his face. Once he was done shaving both sides, he stood back from the mirror. “How does that look?”

  “Not bad, for a rookie,” Joey nodded approvingly like a father would to his son. He then demonstrated the next step to his brother. “Now, when you’re done wipe your face with a warm towel. Pat dry and put a little—just a little—aftershave on. I don’t want to smell you before you enter the room. It’s bad enough I deal with that at college.”

  Eli followed Joey’s instruction to a tee. He put a little aftershave in his hands and patted his face. It immediately stung and Eli felt the skin was about to peel off from his face. “Damn, this stings!”

  “You’ll get used to it.” Nick smiled through the mirror.

  “Am I going to have to do this every day?” Eli asked.

  “If you want the clean-shaven look, yes. You can change it up to what you want and how you want it.” Joey winked. “Experiment, have fun, play around and see what suits you best.”

  “What do the girls like?” Eli wondered.

  “Ah, that depends on the girl.” Nick waxed poetic. “Some like the clean-shaven look. Some like goatees. Some like beards. Some like it when a guy does a mix of all three looks. It just depends on the girl.”

  “Got it,” Eli admired his face in the mirror again and caressed his cheeks. “Smooth.”

  “Just for the ladies.” Joey winked. A sudden commotion downstairs disrupted their time and the brothers went to check it out. They found a sullen and despondent Kieran on the sofa while their mother was speaking in Italian, asking Jesus to forgive the hussy that broke her son’s heart.

  “Mamma?” Eli wondered. “Cos'è successo?”

  “I’ll tell you what happened!” Nicola clutched a rosary in one hand while her other fist was tightly coiled. “That hussy your brother married? She took off! Cleaned him out cold! Left him nothing but his clothing and shoes. She even took the dog! The dog! O! Signore, di me uno strumento della tua Pace! Dove e odio, fa ch’io porti l’Amore, dove e offesa, ch’io porti il perdono, dove e Discordia, ch’io porti l’unione.”

  Nick and Joey sat beside their brother on the couch while Eli tried to calm down their mother, who kept reciting the prayer of peace by Saint Francis of Assisi. “So you want to tell me your version?” Nick asked Kieran.

  “You know, I wrote her every chance I got when I was in Iraq. Every fucking chance. I could remember reading one of her letters when a bomb exploded outside of our tent. I kept a picture of her when I went on the streets and showed it to the children and other Iraqi citizens, talking to them about my wife back at home,” Kieran stared straight ahead to an empty space, “and all the time I was doing that, she was fucking every possible guy she saw.”

  “I knew she was a whore the moment she stepped in my house! Altissimo glorosio Dio, illumine le tenebre de lo core mio. Et dame fede diricta, speranza certa e carita perfecta, senno e cognoscemento.” Nicola shouted to the ceiling and kissed her rosary. “That’s it! She’s not coming here no more! I do not want her skank all over this house!”

  Kieran, Joey, and Nick turned towards their mother and then back at each other. “Okay, so this is the plan. You’re going to stay here for a while and then when that gets old, you come stay with me at my place. I’ll see if I can get you a job at the club being a bouncer for the time being.” Nick advised his brother.

  “Settle in here and tonight, I’m taking you out so you can get drunk.” Joey chimed in.

  “I need to drink her out of my memory,” Kieran rubbed his face.

  “Not a problem.” Nick stood up and grabbed his keys. “All right, mamma. I’ll be back later. Calm down.” He gave her a kiss and then turned to Eli. “Watch over them, okay?”

  “Got it, bro,” Eli slapped hands with Nick, who then left.

  “Eli, you go upstairs and get Kieran’s room ready for him. I’m going to start dinner.” Nicola shook her fists in the air again and said another prayer in Italian. “Ooh, I’m going to hurt that hussy when I see her!”

  “Mother,” Kieran warned her, “enough.”

  “Mio figlio…”

  “Enough.” Kieran rubbed his forehead. “I don’t want to hear her name anymore while I’m here.”

  “Fine!” Nicola huffed.

  Eli had finished making Kieran’s room when Tony popped in. “What’s going on downstairs?” 13-year-old Tony asked.

  “Jalara left Kieran,” Eli shrugged, “so he’s going to be staying here for a while before he moves in with Nicky.”

  “Figa,” Tony shook his head. Cunt.

  Eli reached over and popped Tony in the back of the head. “Watch your mouth, man.”

  “What?” Tony rubbed his head. “It’s true, Eli!”

  “It is, but don’t say that around mom, all right?” Eli finished making up Kieran’s bed. “And be careful what you say. I don’t want to get into the habit of popping you in the back of the head because you’re always saying something stupid.”

  “Whatever, dude,” Tony watched Eli straightened out the bedroom. “What do I need to do?”

  “You’re going downstairs and spend time with your brother,” Eli walked over to the hall closet and took out some fresh towels. “He’s gonna need all the support he can get now. Get to it.”

  “Gotcha,” Tony walked out the room.

  Eli freshened up the bathroom a little and made sure there was plenty of stuff for Kieran. He was going have to share his “smell good”—his codename for deodorant, cologne, and soap—but that was okay. It was better to share it with just one brother, than the other four he had been used to.

  It was already cramped with them living at home. It was more crowded when all five brothers shared that one room. Nick and Kieran slept in the living room, while Joey slept in the other room with his younger brothers. It was that reason why Nicola instilled the importance of an education to her sons so they could go out and achieve what she wasn’t able to do, so they wouldn’t have to live like that anymore. Nick ended up getting a full scholarship to NYU, while Kieran chose to go into the military. Joey chose to take classes at the local community college as he still explored his options. He recently moved out and was sharing an apartment with one of his best friends.