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“He did this when I was in North Carolina,” I growl.
“Shit! Sergio, seriously?” Timeo looks crestfallen.
Sergio shrugs. “Didn’t want any unnecessary bloodshed.”
“Unnecessary like fuck. I wouldn’t let somebody get away with something like that, Serg! I’m totally gonna find these fuckers and pull their balls out through their mouths and then…”
“Timeo, shut your mouth and listen up,” Sergio barks, cutting him off. “Not every personnel problem needs to be solved by brute force. Someday, you’ll learn to appreciate the finer points of managing idiots… like what I’m doing right now with you.”
I drain the rest of my bottle.Oh, this is going to begood. I haven’t seen these two go at it like this in a while.
The rise and fall of female voices get our attention. Damn it, I was hoping I’d get to see Serg in action.
Eden steps out onto the balcony tugging a hand I can only assume is Starla’s. I bristle. Timeo sits up straighter, sobers his countenance and pretends like he wasn’t just asking for the biggest ass-whipping this side of Gloucester.
“Getouthere,” Eden says, finally tugging Starla fully onto the balcony. Starla takes one look at me and blanches, then catches sight of Timeo, turns, and tries to run, but Eden stops her. “Now.”
Starla hangs her head and bites her lip. She won’t meet my eyes and says in a rush of words, “I’m sorry I gossiped about your background and I’m sorry I distracted the bodyguards so your wife could escape your overly possessive, completely obsessive, meany McMean man-pants clutches!” On that note, she turns and runs.
Timeo spits his beer all over the balcony and Sergio. Eden rolls her eyes. Sergio shakes his head, silently wiping the beer from his face and thousand-dollar custom-tailored shirt, but his lips twitch. You’d think he’d be the sterner pseudo-parent, but he’s got a soft spot for Starla.
“Give her an inch,” I warn Sergio, silently laughing inside at the sheer ridiculousness of this entire episode.
“Bro, you should talk,” Timeo says. “What’s this I hear about a dance studio at the club and her ownchocolateshop on Newbury Street?”
“That’s not spoiling,” I say with a shrug. “It’s a business investment. And fuck, you should’ve seen her eyes when I told her.”
Another set of footsteps warns us we have another visitor. “Tell me you saved me a sammy.”
Ricco, Timeo and Sergio’s older brother and former Montavio family Don, joins us.
“Jeez, look who the cat dragged in.” Timeo grins.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Ricco playfully smacks Timeo in the back of the head and plucks the cold bottle of Sam Adams right out of his hand.
“I spit in it, fucker,” Timeo mutters as Ricco upends it. He sits next to Sergio and takes in a deep breath of ocean air. He’s gotten grayer recently and his eyes look sunken and haunted, but he also looks stronger, tanned.
“You okay, Adriano?”
I nod and take out my cell phone.
“He left Quinn at Bella Notte for the first time. Hasn’t checked on her for awhole hour,”Timeo jabs at me.
Ricco’s eyes widen and he whistles. “Wow, brother, I’m proud of you. Good job.”
I nod. Hell, I’m proud of myself. It’s no small feat to let go of control, especially after what happened.
“Thanks. I have to go soon, though. Told her I’d meet her there tonight.”
“Fair enough. But before you go,” Ricco says casually, picking at the label on the bottle. “Any idea what your plan is for when the six months is up?”
* * *
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
“JUST DESERTS”
Quinn
