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“I don’t hate this.”
I grunt. Hopefully he’ll take the hint: Raul Ossani is the last man in the world I want to talk about feelings with. Should never have started this conversation.
Some words from him are like music to my ears, though. Like: “I changed my mind. Let’s stop for coffee.”
Two
Raul
Ever since the car door slammed behind Allegra on the De Rossi driveway, I’ve been stewing in a mixture of relief and dread. Relief that against all odds, my plea for Santo to send her away actually worked, and dread thatI’mthe one he sent to guard her.
Diego wouldn’t have touched the boss’s sister, and he makes a brutal bodyguard. He can’t stitch up stab wounds, either, which is clearly a useful skill around the mansion these days. Why not send him?
“Take this exit.” Allegra squints at her phone in the gloom, the blue light washing over her delicate features. She has the De Rossi pout, and the same shadowed eyes as her brother. “There’s an all night diner five minutes away.”
Though they look similar, Allegra isn’t as hardened by life as the boss. She might pretend she is, butIsee it.
The softness in her. The fear and the longing.
The next few weeks will last an eternity.
We pull up in a gravel parking lot, a neon sign flickering above the diner entrance. “Classy,” Allegra murmurs, but she’s grinning as she throws the car door open wide, tossing her tartan blanket onto the dash. For a mafia princess, she’s fonder of sweatshirts and sneakers than dresses and heels. Designer sweatshirts, but still.
“Stay close. Don’t speak to anyone.”
“No shit.”
Allegra gathers her wild black curls into a high ponytail, the salty breeze tugging on her tresses. Securing a hair tie with a snap, she glances at me. “I didn’t think you could enter places with such a high fat content on the menu. You gonna burst into flames if you step in there, doc?”
Hilarious.
I lead the way across the gravel lot.
We weren’t followed on the drive. It’s been forty minutes since we saw another pair of headlights, and they went in the opposite direction. No one knows we’re here, but adrenaline still makes my heart race. Danger is an everyday part of our world, but when it’s Allegra on the line…
I catch her wrist by the front door. Her pulse thrums under her soft skin, and I try not to fixate on how good she feels in my grasp. “I’ll scope out the exits. You find a booth with good eyelines.”
A loud huff. “This is not my first rodeo.”
No, it’s not.
“Are you armed?”
Allegra’s smile is toothy. “Of course.”
Good. Fine. Squaring my shoulders, I push inside the diner. A radio plays softly, crackling over the speakers, and there’s an older man curled around a coffee mug near the window. The cook and the waitress lean together by the hatch, chit-chatting. The windows are steamed.
At the sight of us, the cook shuffles back into the kitchens. Allegra tugs her wrist free and sashays toward a booth in the far corner.
“Hey, folks! A late one tonight, huh?”
The waitress plucks two menus from the counter and heads after Allegra, beaming at me on her way past, but I don’t follow. The kitchen is warm and smells like frying oil when I slip inside.
I check the kitchen and both sets of bathrooms. Each booth and the cleaning closet. I finish up with a final lap around the outside of the building, then stride across the sticky checkerboard tiles and slide into the booth opposite Allegra.
“Well, there you go, honey,” the waitress says to Allegra, one ample hip cocked. “Told you some fresh air would see your husband right.”
The mafia princess smiles at me, deadly and slow. “Hi, baby. You feeling better?”
