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“Right this way,” she said, grabbing menus, then leading us through the tight little restaurant, and back to a quiet corner.
Silvano’s hand pressed me toward the chair facing the back of the restaurant, leaving him sitting facing the door.
I knew that move.
And it only confirmed my suspicions further. Since the only other people who made sure their eyes were on the exits were cops and former military. And nothing about Silvano Costa screamed either of those things to me.
“What?” Silvano asked, making me realize I’d been staring at him.
“Nothing. This place is really nice,” I said, glancing around. “Are there really only twelve tables?” I asked.
“No. Not anymore. But when it opened, yeah. They try to crush people in these days. New York City rent prices, I guess,” he said, glancing at his menu. “Wine?” he asked.
“Sure,” I agreed.
“Any preference?”
“I’m really no judge. I buy the stuff I can get at Trader Joe’s,” I admitted, getting a head shake out of him as he ordered a fancy-sounding bottle as soon as the server stepped up to the table.
“So, how does this city compared to the ones you’re used to?”
“I mean, I’ve barely seen any of it,” I said. “But I think New York is the city most other cities aspire to be, right? Have you always been here?”
“My whole life,” he agreed, nodding. “Got a lot of family here.”
“Oh, that’s nice.”
“You got any family?”
“No. I mean, yes, I have one uncle. But we have never been close. He had a stroke a while back and ended up paralyzed, so he’s in a home. And there’s… there’s no one else,” I said, hearing the catch in my voice, feeling the sting in my eyes.
I’d been doing my grieving in private.
What other choice did I have?
After Silvano would wrap up my cast, I would escape into the shower, and let the tears come, spilling down my cheeks, keeping my lips pressed tight to fight back my cries.
If I came out a little red in the face or eyes, I could blame the hot water and shampoo in my eyes.
“Explains why you were all alone in the woods,” he said. “You’d have to have a pretty shitty fucking family to let you hide out there without protection,” he said, then fell silent for a moment while the server poured the wine.
“I’ll give you a moment to look over the menu,” he said, sensing we didn’t want to be interrupted yet.
“Thanks,” Silvano said, barely giving him a nod before pinning me.
“Is that why you wanted to take me to a restaurant?” I asked. “So you can question me without me throwing a fit?”
“You gonna throw a fit?” he asked, brow raised.
“No.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
A small snort escaped me, but I shook my head as my fingers slid up and down the stem of the wineglass.
“The fuck did you get your—“ he started.
“How do you think I got tracked down?” I asked, cutting him off, wanting to swerve the conversation away from too personal of questions without completely changing the subject.
