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I’ve just placeda tray of my favorite go-to cookies in the oven when the alarm on the metal staircase outside my building is tripped.
Screw this day.
I don’t get visitors. Ever. And I’m too old to believe a fat man in a red coat is coming to see me with gifts aplenty today. Whoever isoutside is probably not friendly.
And definitely not wanted.
I lift the purple hat that serves as the lid on my oversized Dopey the Dwarf cookie jar and remove my gun before moving to check the security monitors set up in the second bedroom of my apartment.
What the heck is Sam Beneventi doing here, and why is he knocking on my door?
When I don’t answer the door fast enough for him, he knocks again.
Louder this time and with more force than necessary.
With a shake of my head, I call out, “Hold your damn horses,” and take my time. Once I get to the door, I leave the chain in place, and crack it partially open. A cold burst of wind whips through the opening, and I wrap my favorite comfy sweater tighter around myself. “Why are you here?”
“Well, hello to you too, Snow White.” Sam attempts to reach through the cracked opening and release the chain, but I smack him away. “Let me in, Snow.”
“My name is not Snow White, Beneventi.” I push on the door, trying to shut it when he blocks me with a foot in the opening. “Move it or lose it.”
Sam’s foot stays firmly planted between the door and the jam. “Open the door. You’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”
My eyes trail from his feet to his face. “I’d let you in if you’d move your foot, genius. I can’t unlatch the chain unless the door’s closed.”
Sam huffs out a sound of annoyance in a puff of cold air before pulling his foot back.
Of course, I take the opportunity to slam the door in his face, and for a hot second, I contemplate not reopening it. This door is reinforced steel. You’re not breaking it down with Italian leather boots on your feet.
But I decide to be a big girl instead, and after I put my gun in the waistband of my jeans under my sweatshirt, I let the mafia prince in.
Suddenly I’m feeling a bit like Little Red Riding Hood opening the door for the big bad wolf.
Or maybe just the idiot who opened Pandora’s box.
Either way, this feels like a bad move at the end of a bad day.
The timer goes off in the kitchen as Sam walks through my door, looking around and taking it all in. From a stranger’s perspective, my apartment probably doesn’t look like much. It’s small and above a bakery. But I own the bakery and the building, allowing me the privacy I needed and the ability to modify it however I wanted.
No questions asked. No nosey neighbors.
It’s my safe space. I can breathe here.
Until Sam walked through my door. His enormous presence sucks all the oxygen from the room, taking up all the space and leaving me crowded where I’m usually lonely.
“What is that incredible smell?” The look of hunger on his face tells me he may eat me if I don’t feed him a cookie immediately.
Maybe he is the big bad wolf disguised as a tall, dark, and annoyingly handsome hitman.
You’d think I’d be afraid right now.
You’d be wrong.
Stupidly, I’m intrigued. George would be so disappointed.
I pull the hot tray of gooey chocolate chip cookies out of the oven and place them on the stove top to cool before turning back to Bash’s brother. “Why are you here, Sam? You don’t know me, and today’s events don’t change that.”
I amend my earlier statement.
