Page 76 of Lovely Venom

Kelly brings us our cocktails, along with a chef’s menu. After looking it over, I realize something I rather wish I hadn’t.

They don’t have strawberry waffles, which means Cristian must have requested them for me. I doubt it’s a coincidence, but I have no idea how he knows they’re my favorite.

It’s another thought I’ll have to file away for later.

Eventually, Gio’s friend arrives and takes the seat next to mine.

“Hey, I’m Tommy.” He jerks his chin at me. “You were here last time, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, that was me.” I try not to grimace at the memory.

“Tommy kept asking who Lucia’s pretty friend was,” Gio teases.

“Can’t help it.” Tommy eases back against the lounge. “You were hard not to notice.”

“I’m sure the Fish-bowl really helped.” I force a smile.

It’s obvious that Gio invited Tommy for a reason, and that reason is he probably thinks this is a double date.

“I was just hoping you’d come over and hang out with us,” Tommy says. “But I guess fortune smiled on me tonight, because here you are.”

“I need to borrow Chantel for a sec.” Lucia stands and gestures me outside the lounge, pulling me far enough away that the men can’t hear us.

“Are you good with this?” she asks. “I swear I didn’t realize Tommy was into you. I got pretty drunk that night, so I don’t even remember him mentioning it.”

“It’s fine,” I assure her. “I know you would have told me if you knew.”

“But what do you think of him?” She steals a glance at the lounge. “He’s cute, right?”

“I’m sure he’s great,” I tell her. “But I’m not interested.”

“Dang.” Lucia deflates. “I was kind of hoping you were so we could both get married, have babies, and do everything together because they’re best friends.”

I laugh, and she smiles.

“A girl can dream.” She shrugs.

“Those are for Mr. Vitale,” a server calls out to another as she passes by.

My gaze follows the direction she points—and my stomach hollows out.

“Oh, Cristian’s here,” Lucia observes. “Looks like someone’s getting cozy over there. I never would have pegged him as a romantic.”

The scene does look nauseatingly romantic. Lit candles, bottles of wine, and a familiar woman.

I recognize her from Marco’s party because she was sizing me up like I was competition. Cristian told me she wasn’t his girlfriend, but they seem pretty well acquainted when she fondles his tie and whispers something in his ear.

“Do you know who that is?” I ask Lucia, trying to keep my voice even.

“It’s Jolie Charbonneau. She’s the daughter of some fancy French Mafia guy,” Lucia explains. “My father said they’re working on a deal with the Italians, so they’ve been making the rounds in all our social circles.”

“What kind of deal?” My throat tightens.

“If I had to guess, it looks like there’s a marriage contract underway, but I’m not sure she can wait to get to the altar.”

Jolie’s hand trails down Cristian’s chest, venturing toward his trousers.

I stand there frozen as it plays out, and for reasons I can’t rationalize, it feels like a punch to the gut.