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Emi paused her eager remarks to dig into her seafood fettucine, only to start swooning a moment later. “So good! It’s been too much time since I had authentic American food.”
Niko clicked his tongue at her. “It’s Italian, not American.”
“Well, we’reinAmerica, so almost the same thing. They don’t make it the same back home.”
A strange twinge passed through my chest, watching them together. You couldn’t miss how much they cared about each other.
I’d never had a relationship like that. No siblings, and even my interactions with my mother had been far from warm. She’d warned me not to get too close to anyone at school, and it wasn’t like I could have felt comfortable inviting any classmates over to our house anyway.
It must be nice, having family you could joke around with and count on like that.
“I bet they cook it differently in Italy too,” Rafael put in, but he softened the remark with a chuckle. “But I do like the American version.”
Niko pointed his fork toward Rafael. “This one will introduce you to all the Latin cuisine you could fill your stomach with. Can’t get much of that in any way back in Japan.”
A hint of a smile, enough to make my own stomach flutter, crossed Rafael’s lips. “Always happy to expand my culinary horizons.”
I had to appreciate how gracious he was being about the sudden visitor when he must have been dying to get out there and track down Haggard. He hadn’t totally forsaken his bodyguard role—I saw his gaze sweep the restaurant every couple of minutes, watching for threats.
No doubt as soon as we left Emi at the hotel, he’d be off tracing leads.
I still had to decide how involved I wanted to get in his investigation… and the consequences that would follow.
The thought made my gut knot all over again. I managed to force down about half of my pasta, but the heaping plate was too much for my scattered nerves.
During a lull in the conversation, I dabbed at my mouth with my napkin and nudged back my chair. “I’m going to hit the ladies’ room real quick before dessert.”
Emi popped up from her chair. “Oh, I should freshen up too. I think I saw the restrooms on the way in. Here, I’ll show you the way!”
She walked ahead with buoyant steps and pushed into the polished restroom with her purse swinging from her elbow. I ducked into one of the stalls and emerged to find her touching up her glossy pink lipstick.
As I moved to wash my hands, Emi gave the stalls a quick scan. We were alone in the room.
She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone anyway. “I hope my idea about the… what do you call it in English? Motion tracker? That it helped with your security problem.”
She’d spent five years of her childhood living in the US and attending an English school just like Niko had, but it wasn’t surprising her vocabulary had some limitations.
I hesitated, not sure exactly how much she’d figured out or what Niko had told her—on the phone or since she’d arrived. “Um…”
“It’s crazy that fans get so obsessed,” she went on. “He was telling me in the car that you’ve been coping really well, though, not letting it affect your focus.”
Not too much. But I was grateful that Niko had been able to come up with a reasonable story on the fly that wasn’t as unnerving as the real one.
“Yeah,” I said. “The motion detector did help, actually. We know who’s been coming around the apartment now, so we should be able to make sure he backs off.”
“Oh, perfect. I’m so glad. It must be very stressful.”
She aimed a softer smile at me, and I realized with a jolt that she really was concerned on my behalf. It seemed she shared not just Niko’s upbeat attitude but his sense of compassion as well.
“It has been,” I said. “But your brother—and the other guys—have been a lot of support.”
“Hmm, yes.” Emi’s expression turned sly. “In all kinds of ways.”
My face flushed. How much had she figured out about my relationship with the guys? “Well…”
She waved her hand as if dismissing my embarrassment. “They’ve obviously all fallen for you. And good for you juggling all of them and keeping them happy. Why wouldn’t a woman want three men’s attention if she can handle it?”
I coughed, still off-balance. “I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”
