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I looked on in bewilderment. This fine woman didn’t belong in this bar. She started off, locking her gaze with mine, for some reason that still eluded me. Her black hair was glossy, flowing to her chest. Her scarlet lipstick made an amazing contrast with her smooth, white skin.
“Mr. Borelli? Mr. Matteo Borelli?” Her silky, feminine voice seemed at odds with the self-assurance that radiated off of her.
I tensed, not exactly on edge, but not relaxed, either. The night had just gotten more interesting.
“You must be lost,” I said casually. “The fashion district is miles from here. And I missed the part where you told me how you know my name.”
“I’m Maggie Owens-Roselli,” she said, smoothly perching on the stool next to mine, her goons just three paces away. “I don’t disclose my sources, Mr. Borelli. I consider that highly unprofessional. Please don’t ask again.”
“Then why should I bother talking to you?” I looked down into her flashing eyes. “I mean, you want to talk to me, right? That’s why you sat next to me.”
“That’s true,” she said, giving a series of nods. “I hope your friend Leonardo is recovering nicely.”
I took a deep breath, taking a few moments to process what she’d just said, and the expression on her face. It seemed a pretty safe bet that Maggie knew more about what had happened to Leonardo than Amanda had.
That woman was good.Verygood.
Also, she had dressed up on purpose and had brought her bodyguards with her, just to show me that she had power. A lot more power than me and my friends. That still didn’t tell me why she was here, but it let me know more about her.
“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me why you assume you know anything about us.”
“You’re right, I won’t.” Her voice was confident. That made sense considering she had two huge men at her side, but I got the feeling that she would’ve sounded like that in any case. “In any case, this isn’t the question you should be asking me. Tell me something, Matteo.” She ceased talking altogether for a brief moment and inched closer to me. “Why do you think that truck had backup?”
I shrugged, willing to talk about it. It’s not like I thought she was a copy wearing a wire. No cop would work with two thugs like her large friends. “Maybe it always did and we never noticed.”
She leveled a sharp gaze at me. “You don’t really believe that.”
Maggie was right, but I didn’t confirm nor deny it.
“Yours was not the first crew that thought they could pull off something so daring. And you shouldn’t attempt anything like that in the future, or else you or one of your men will die. Simple as that.”
“That sounded like a threat to me,” I pointed out, steel in my voice. “I don’t appreciate being threatened, least of all by a rich girl like you.”
“This wasn’t a threat.” She rejected that notion, pulling away from me. “It’s a high-probability scenario. Look at what happened to Mr. Turner. Itwillhappen again. The question is, who’s next?’”
I ignored that. “Here’s what I don’t get. Why are you and I having this conversation? What’s your angle here, Ms. Owens? What are you hoping to gain from this?”
“Absolutely nothing.” Her candor took me by surprise. “I’m just trying to help you stay out of trouble. It’s a dangerous path you and your friends are walking down on, Mr. Borelli. Sooner or later, one of you will get killed. In my book, no financial reward is worth dying for.”
“Said the rich girl,” I snapped. “I’m not buying it. You must have an agenda. Where I come from, nobody does things for strangers out of the goodness of their heart. Be honest with me.”
“Enjoy your next beer, Mr. Borelli. It’s on me,” she said with a polite smile as she reached into her fancy purse. Leaving a fifty-dollar bill on the bar, she got off her stool. “Don’t forget our little chat. Goodnight.”
And just like that, Maggie Owens or whatever the hell her hyphenated last name was, turned around and strolled away from me. I was left at a loss for words, staring at her feminine figure, until she disappeared through the entrance, her bodyguards flanking her. More importantly, I was left with about a hundred questions, questions no one was there to answer. I still didn’t believe she was trying to protect me and my guys. I knew better than that, but, frankly, I had no idea what to make of this.
I ordered another beer with the fancy lady’s money, and drank it while I tried to figure it all out.
6
PIPER
What on earthshould I wear?
My friend Zoey could probably hear the desperation in my text, but it had been so long since I’d been out to dinner with a man.
Luckily, Zoey wasn’t due to perform until later this evening, so she had time to talk me through this. Or, well, text me through this. Maggie hadn’t responded to my last message asking her about Cesare, so I didn’t feel comfortable asking her about it. Besides, Zoey was the best dresser I knew.
Wear something you’re comfortable with,but look hot in,she responded.Not scrubs!
