“Oh, I reached out to my father this evening on the way to the game.”
That catches me by surprise. Luca rarely talks to his father unless he absolutely has to contact him. “You did?”
“I thought I’d mention the man with the snake tattoo. Turns out, he’s the son of Massimo DeLuca.”
“Who is that?” I ask.
Luca sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He grabs a pretzel bite and dips it into the honey mustard sauce, taking a bite.
I’m waiting for him to answer.
He seems to be avoiding finishing our conversation.
“Luca?”
“He’s a problem,” Luca says, glancing up at me.
Frustration singes through my veins. “I thought we weren’t keeping secrets anymore?” How can he tell me this guy is a problem and then not say anything else.
“We’re not. I’m telling you, he’s a problem.”
Why is Luca always so fricking cryptic when it comes to his father’s business dealings? “How big of a problem are we talking, Luca? Like something that will get buried under the rug and go away, or is this guy going to be a threat until he’s taken care of?—”
He lowers his voice. “The second option.”
Fuck.
“Why us?” I ask, wanting more answers than he’s provided. “Why is he after my son?”
Luca scoots closer, his breath against my ear. “This is not a conversation we should be having out in public.”
I laugh under my breath. “Well, if you’d had it with me at home this evening, we wouldn’t be doing this now, would we?”
He rolls his lips together and exhales loudly through his nose. “Like I said, I texted Dante on the way to the game.” He’s growing irritated with me. He grabs another bite of pretzel and stuffs it into his mouth.
My shoulders deflate.
That’s right.
He didn’t know earlier.
I can’t blame him for not telling me something that he didn’t know.
“We’ll figure it out.” I reach for his hand, giving it a squeeze before glancing down at my phone. Maybe I can convince Nova or Kensley to go up there and sing with them?
“Liam Moretti!” a female voice shouts across the restaurant as she storms inside, and I can’t help but glance up at the brunette.
She’s the same girl Liam invited over months ago.
Except this time, she’s definitely not looking happy to see him.
Liam shifts uncomfortably in his chair. I would be, too, if someone were staring at me like they wanted my death served right up.
“What are you doing here?” Liam asks, and I can’t help but watch the exchange. It’s far more interesting than picking out a song.
“If you didn’t want me to find you, maybe don’t post a live with you doing karaoke,” she snaps back.
Liam turns and glares at me. “Harper? What the hell?”
