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In another life, I’d give in, they admitted.
I didn’t know where that had come from.
In what world would I give in to my desire for a mobster?
None.
That should have been my answer.
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” he finally asked when the tension between us simmered too high.
His eyes narrowed on the space between me and his sister, no doubt drawing conclusions I didn’t want them to draw.
A frown touched his lips as he continued to flay me with his words, “It can be an unfamiliar concept for… slower people, but it’s really not that hard to get.”
He drew out his words purposefully, as if I couldn’t understand them otherwise.
“If you work, you get paid. If you don’t, you get fired.” He turned to his sister, who was beaming at me like she suddenly had all the answers to the universe. “This is a perfect example of what not to be when you grow up.”
And we were back on familiar ground, where he was the asshole boss, I was the illicit employee, and we ignored the fact that this job and Tessie liking me intertwined us when the last thing we needed was a reason to be closer together.
Chapter
Twelve
Self-development is a higher duty than self-sacrifice.
ELIZABETH CADY STANTON
BASTIANO ROMANO
“I invited Ari to my party.” Tessie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before her tiny fingers returned to the keys. “I like her.”
I tapped her lower back with my fingers until she straightened her posture, her shoulders pulled back and the melody already smoother. “Keep your back straight. You’re not a sloth.”
“What’s a sloth?”
“A type of animal.” I moved her fingers over the right keys on the living room piano. “What party?”
She still played the song wrong. “My half-birthday party.”
I stared at her.
I couldn’t tell if she was serious.
My head shook as I mimicked the hand movements she needed to learn.
“You’re not having a half-birthday party.”
“Why not?”
“For starters, they’re not a thing.”
She crossed her arms and drew her lips into a pout. “But you’re never in California for my real birthday parties.”
Fair point.
You’ve missed too many of Everett’s, too, my self-loathing reminded me.
