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Marco nodded and drained his glass of lemonade. “Better make it two. I gotta trust a pregnant woman’s cravings.”
Bristol set about making bananas foster with vanilla ice cream.
“Are you feeling better?” Marco asked softly.
Physically? Yes. Emotionally? No. “Uh, I’m feeling rested.” I wasn’t sure I wanted to spill my guts to Marco. After all, he was the reason Grit was gone, and now, I was holed up in his estate. Though if you were going to have to be held prisoner, this had to be the best place for it.
“Will you be able to sleep tonight since you slept most of the evening?”
I wasn’t too sure about that. The last few weeks, I had struggled to sleep, and I just wondered if all of that had finally caught up with me. “I think I should be able to go back to sleep. Especially if my stomach is full.”
Marco nodded to my stomach. “Do you know what you are having?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, but I have a good feeling that it’s a boy.”
“And what if it’s a girl?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I mean, it doesn’t really matter as long as the baby is healthy. Either way, I will be able to figure it out. My mom was a pretty good role model even though her life was a bit of a wreck.”
“She’s not around anymore?” he asked.
I shook my head and watched Bristol pour the brandy into the pan over the bananas. “She passed away when I was fifteen. I’ve been on my own since then. Thankfully, I had Indiana as my best friend when I was growing up.”
“Sorry, babe.”
“What about your parents?” I asked.
Marco laughed. “Well, I’m pretty sure you have met my mom, and my dad walked out before I was even born.”
“I know your mom?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. At least, I think you do. You weren’t at the clubhouse for too long, but it’s likely you met her. She’s married to Slider.”
My jaw dropped. “No way,” I gasped.
“Yes, way,” he chuckled. “My mom is Fayth.”
“The mafia and the MC mixed? That sounds like a book or movie or something.” A movie I would totally watch.
“It sounds way more exciting than it actually is, Royal. Most of the time, we all live in harmony without bumping heads.”
Bristol set a bowl in front of Marco and me. “Bananas foster with French vanilla ice cream,” she said proudly.
I took a bite of warm banana in the rich caramel sauce and moaned. “Oh, God.” How on earth could she make something so good, so quickly?
Marco grabbed a spoonful and held it in front of his mouth. “Your talent is wasted on us here, Bristol. You need to be working in some fancy restaurant in New York.” He took a bite and moaned just like I did.
Bristol wrinkled her nose. “That doesn’t sound like fun at all. I went to Chicago for school, and that was enough of the big city for me.”
“You’re from Rockton?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Falls City. About an hour from here. I was lucky enough to snag the job for the Banachis four years ago.” She leaned toward me and whispered loudly. “Don’t tell Leo or Marco, but they really pay me too much for cooking only five or six days a month.”
Marco chuckled. “We know exactly how much we pay you, Bristol. And you’re worth every single penny.”
Bristol shrugged. “I’m not going to tell you what to do with your money.”
“You only work a few days a month?” I asked. What did she do the rest of the time? I always thought it would be cool to not have to work, but I knew I would be bored within a week after I cleaned everything and blew through my list of shows to binge watch.
