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I smile at him brightly. “I, unlike some, happen to like red. And if you liked my outfit so much, you should have given me the job then.”
“I wasn’t the one giving jobs. Besides, therewasno job to give.” He flicks an invisible piece of fluff off his sleeve.
The way he likes to dismiss me, like I’m nothing more than an annoying little fly who dares to buzz in his presence, infuriates me. “Like hell there wasn’t. I spoke to the owner the day before. He was adamant they needed help straight away.”
“There. Was. No. Job. No company anymore, and the owner went… on an extended vacation.”
“Lucky him,” I murmur. Clearly, he’s not going to give me a straight answer. I sigh, looking around. I can’t see the faces of the two guys standing behind him, partially obscured by his large frame. Or maybe it’s because his presence demands my full attention, no matter how much I hate it.
“What are you doinghere, Miss Jones?” He snaps at me as if the last few minutes between us never happened.
“It’s Alessa. And I could ask you the same.”
He chuckles darkly. “Are you stalking me?”
“I was here first,” I scoff.
“Icome here every day.” Is he serious? What are we in kindergarten?
“Oh, wow. Good for you. Did youlickthis place, too?” I can hear an amused cough from one of the men standing behind him. Goody, at least my humour is being appreciated.
“What. Are.You. Doing here, Miss Jones?” Dante repeats himself, his presence expanding and sucking in the air around us.
I know I should reply to him. Every bone in my body is screaming for me to, but my self-preservation has decided to take a vacation, much like the man Santoro must have scared into not giving me a job.
“None. Of.Yourbusiness,” I reply sweetly, then start digging through my bag, looking for the right resume.
“Seems it ismy businesssince you turn up everywhere I go.”
“You should stay at home then,” I quip, turning my back to him and smacking my resume on the counter with a satisfying sound. “Sorry about that,” I say to the man, who is looking anything but amused. He doesn’t move, his eyes not even looking at me or the piece of paper between us.
The air moves behind me as a suited arm reaches around me, and tattooed fingers pick my resume up. With a sigh, I turn around, then watch Dante scan the lies printed on the page he is holding. I’m pretty certain the resume he snatched from me when he walked in is different from the one I just whipped out. I blame the mishap on his infuriating presence. And his deliciouscologne assaulting my senses and trying to render me all gooey.
He studies the two documents for what feels like an hour. I should be happy he’s actually reading them this time, unlike the first time we met. But I’m not, because I’ve fucked up. His eyes lift to mine, an eyebrow arched in amusement as he smirks, pleased with himself for catching me in a lie.
I growl in frustration. Not wanting to be lectured by this cocky piece of shit.
“Sorry, Miss Jones. La Famiglia is not hiring at the moment.”
I’m stumped as to why he’s not mocking me, choosing to dismiss me once more instead, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Whatever. There are other places around here. And my name isAlessa.”
I try to push past him, but he stops me, his grip tight on my arm. Too tight. I slowly meet his eyes, the amusement from moments ago gone, anger burning bright in them instead.
“You don’t belong here,Miss Jones. You’re best going back to where you came from.” Saint my ass, he’s definitely the devil.
“Go to hell.” I try to rip my arm out from his grip, to no avail. My heart speeds up again. My instincts kick in, sensing danger.
“I’m already in one. Ever since you decided to stalk me.” With his other hand, he reaches for my bag, then finally lets go of my arm, only to open my bag and pull out the stack of papers inside. My jaw opens in shock as he hands me my now empty bag back, then smiles sweetly, flicking his wrist at me. “Run along now.”
I’m done. I’m done with him, and with assholes like him. With men who think it’s okay to treat anyone like that. Ihave no clue what I’ve done to him, but whatever it is, he can go fuck a splintery plank of wood for all I care. I turn back to the counter, pulling a note from my pocket and waving it at the guy in front of me.
“This is my last fifty,” I tell him. “I was going to buy food with it, but it’s yours as long as you promise to douse his food in ketchup.” I point at the douche in the suit behind me.
The guy behind the counter shakes his head, his eyes still on Dante instead of on me.
“It was worth a try.” I sigh, shrugging, then turn toward the door. “See you around, shitbag.” I smile his way as I walk past Dante, finally seeing the two guys who were standing behind him. My eyes connect with a younger, less handsome version of Dante as he grins at me. What is with this town and the tall, dark and handsome gene? Is there something in the water here?
“Lei mi piace4, Saint.” The younger Dante chuckles as I reach the door.
