“Sweetheart, I know. I’m there in five.”
I laugh and hang up.
“Who’s Rossi?” asks Reid.
“Rossi,” I say. Because there is no way to describe Rossi. He’s the gay bestie everyone needs, an epic tracker, a master of distraction, and the reason why I haven’t been caught before.
Shaw opens her mouth and closes it again. She apparently understood she won’t get anything out of me.
Five minutes later, a courier walks into the restaurant. I recognize Rossi, though disguised, of course. He hands an envelope to Antonio, who brings it to me.
“Your delivery, belle,”
“Grazie,” I tell him, take the envelope and open it.
“So,” I say without giving Shaw a glance as I go through the list Rossi has printed out for me. “174 open cases of high public interest, and—589 of minor relevance.”
“You know,” Shaw says. “Technically, you committed a crime having this list.”
“Technically, I didn’t do anything wrong, because Rossi acquired this list, and it’s the same list you offered me in your office, so let’s not start with being picky.”
She groans.
I chuckle.
This is actually fun.
“Pick your food,” I tell her.
“I don’t—really, not hungry,” she says.
“Pick something or I will,” I say without looking at her as my eyes scan over the list.
“I—“ she stammers, groans, takes the menu again, sighs, and starts twitching with her leg.
It annoys me.
“Antonio,” I call, and he arrives momentarily.
“The Risotto al Nero di Seppia con Tartufo Bianco e Burrata Affumicata for her, and for me the Risotto al Tartufo Nero con Porcini e Olio di Basilico, please.”
Antonio nods, and I steal the pen from his belt without his notice.
“I don’t like risotto,” she says like a stubborn child.
“You will love this one. Also, it’s a lie; you eat that risotto from that horrible place around the corner on 7th twice a week,” I say dismissively.
“Have you been watching me?”
“Of course I have,” I say and glance at her. “How else could I evade capture that long?”
“Wonderful,” she says.
“You wanted honesty; I can lie if you want,” I offer casually.
She only shakes her head, and I dive back to the list.
“Yep, this was me,” I say and strike out the jade burial suit. “This too. And this. And?—“
