“Goodbye.”
“If he’s not Italian, find out why he’s dressed like that.”
I jabbed the red button and set the phone facedown before Carmela DeLuca could start a background check through FaceTime.
Shay drifted closer with a towel over her shoulder. “That man looks like trouble with a credit limit.”
“I hate credit limits,” I said.
“I figured.”
The man crossed to the bar with a predator’s ease I legally didn’t notice. He took the center stool like he’d reserved it in another lifetime.
I grabbed a shaker tin. The cold metal bit my palm and kept my hand away from my throat.
“Welcome to Bite Me,” I said. “If you’re here for frozen drinks, bad decisions, or mozzarella fried in a way your cardiologist would call personal, you’re in the right place.”
He glanced at my apron, then came back to my face. He didn’t rush. Men like him never rushed unless they wanted you to know they could.
“Antonella DeLuca,” he said.
The sound of my full name in his voice had too much gravel in it.
I set the shaker down. “It depends on who’s asking.”
“Nico Torretti.”
My grip tightened around the shaker tin.
Torretti Harbor Capital was the company behind the countdown.
I left my hands on the bar and my knees locked. The room stayed too hot, too bright, too full of people ordering vacation in plastic cups.
He didn’t blink or fill the silence. He just waited while I absorbed it.
I gave him my best customer-service expression, the one that charged extra for fear.
“You’re a long way from Jersey, Mr. Torretti.”
“So are you.”
“I came for the weather.”
“I didn’t.”
Shay’s towel stopped moving at the edge of my vision. Taryn slowed near the host stand. Mari’s knife went quiet for one beat in the kitchen.
I gave them the smallest shake of my head. The message was simple: work, pour, sell. Nobody needed to panic until I could schedule it.
Nico noticed the gesture. He looked from my staff to the exits, then to the patio, the kitchen pass, the register, and the back hall. He took in my whole bar in three seconds and made it look lazy.
“What can I get you?” I asked.
“I’m not here to drink.”
“You sat at a bar.”
“I’m here about what you owe.”
