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“What do you do?” she asked.
“Lots of things,” I said. “Real estate, sanitation, that sort of stuff.”
She grinned at me. “Oh, right. So you’re in the mafia.”
I barked a laugh as her face turned bright red.
“Come on now, sweetheart,” I said. “You don’t just blurt it out like that.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I was just joking around, I shouldn’t have said that, I’m just being really stupid, I’m so sorry. I’ll go back inside. I’ll just—”
“Wait,” I said. “Stay.”
She leaned toward the door and her eyes locked on mine again. She held that tray between us like it was a shield, and I wanted to tear it from her hand and fling it off into the night. The tile floor beneath our feet echoed as she took a step closer, and the overhead lights built into the ceiling above us made her face look bright and fresh.
Over her shoulder, I saw my father glance in my direction. His face turned dark for a moment, but then another white-haired man in an expensive suit said something, and he turned away with a smile on his face.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I probably shouldn’t. I don’t want to get in trouble. Or to put my foot further in my mouth.”
I tilted my head. “I doubt you can fit your whole foot in your mouth, but I’d love to see you try.”
She laughed. “Was that a line?”
“It was a bad one.”
“Oh, wow. One of the worst.”
I grinned at her. “Stay for another minute.”
“Fine,” she said. “Just don’t ever use that line again.”
“Promise, I won’t,” I said. I let my eyes drift down and back up along her body again. “My name’s Vince.”
“Nice to meet you, Vince.” She took another couple steps further out onto the balcony. The tray stayed up between us, her little shield against my advances. I couldn’t help but smile about it.
“I’m curious, are you writing a story about this little gathering here?” I asked, gesturing with my glass toward the party going on inside.
To her credit, she didn’t look over her shoulder. “No,” she said. “I’m not.”
“Interesting. Do you know who’s in there?”
She shrugged. “Politicians. Lawyers. I don’t know, generic rich people.”
“Pretty much,” I said and laughed. “Lots of stories in there, if you wanted to go looking.”
She made a face. “And deal with them pinching my ass? No thanks, not worth it.”
“Funny how you assume I’m not going to pinch your ass.”
She laughed and tilted her head. “I’d let you get away with it.”
“Please, you’d let me get away with much more than that.” I sipped my drink. “So you’re a journalist that just so happens to work a catering job for a party like this. Pretty lucky, I have to admit.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Totally lucky.” Her smile was huge and fake, and I knew she was hiding something. “Except like I said. Not really interested in them.”
But I didn’t really care.
Capos in the Leone Crime Family weren’t supposed to talk to journalists for obvious reasons. Journalists were right up there with cops and prosecutors on the list of people made men were supposed to avoid. And yet her innocent little smile, her clumsy attempts at subterfuge, and the fact that I was bored out of my skull made me want to keep her around for a while.
Just to see where this was going.
“Then I take it you’re interested in me,” I said.
“Could be,” she said. “Although you say you’re not in the mafia, so you’re much less interesting.”
I grinned at her and cocked my head.
“Now what would you do if I were?” I asked. “You don’t look like the kind of girl to roll with men like that.”
“I’m a journalist,” she said. “I wouldn’t roll with my subjects.”
“So you want to write about made men, huh?”
She shrugged and the tray in her hand bobbed up and down.
“Maybe,” she said.
“I don’t know. You’re a nice-looking girl, could be trouble for you.”
She glared at me. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
I swirled my whiskey and cocked my head. “Men like that, they’re not above using a girl for her looks and her body,” I said. “You might want to be careful. You might not want to get too close. Might end up with a broken heart.”
She snorted and tossed her hair. “I doubt that,” she said. “I’m not dumb enough to get involved with a gangster.”
“And yet here you are.” I gave her a little smile and raised an eyebrow.
Her expression softened and she took a breath.
“So you’re admitting it?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Never said that.”
She let out an annoyed breath. “You’re just going to play games with me all night, aren’t you?”
“More or less,” I said. “It’s fun to watch you stress.”
“I should get back in,” she said.
“Hold on.” I pushed myself off the railing. For one second, I thought I might lose my balance and go toppling over, my body spinning through the air, hurtling down toward the pavement.
