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Before I can reply, Donatello is tapping the window at Andrea, who is oblivious to the scene he is apparently walking into. “There he fucking is!Fuck, this is going to be great!”
My hand is on the sliding door, tugging it open while Donatello giggles like a schoolgirl. My eyes momentarily drift to him as I’m stepping outside until averyhigh-pitched scream draws my attention back to the yard. Andrea is sprinting back toward his car—damn, he’s actually really fast—with Dylan hot on his tail.
Okay, that’s concerning.
Donatello is wheezing behind me, mumbling incoherently through howls of laughter, but I ignore him, jogging in the same direction they took off to. “Dylan? Dylan!”
I can still hear that awful screeching, so I pick up the pace to the back drive. Rounding the corner, I stop dead in my tracks, then go flying because Donatello was clearly right on my ass. Thankfully he snatches my arm before I face-plant, and I send a glare his way before taking a second to figure out what the hell is going on.
Dylan is barking beside Andrea’s car while Andrea screams like a banshee from the hood. The whole thing causes Donatello to lose it again and I smack his arm, whistling and calling for Dylan. “Dylan, come here, puppy, come here!”
Tongue lolling, he trots happily to my side and I pat his head while eyeing a cackling Donatello. Regaining some control, Donatello takes a step back from us—away from Dylan, I note—while wiping tears from his eyes. “I fucking told you!” he wheezes out, trying to contain even more laughter.
Andrea is still on the car hood, not screaming, but glaring at Dylan. I yell up to him, “Andrea, you can get down now, I promise he won’t chase you again.”
Eyeing the dog, Andrea scoots off of the car, his eyes narrowed on Donatello. “You knew he was out here and you didn’t think to message me?”
“Why would I?” Donatello smirks. “You made me cover pier duty when youowedme.”
Andrea scoffs, ready to keep arguing, but I speak up, “Maybe if I introduced you two, Andrea, he wouldn’t hate you so much? You can come pet him now that I’m here.”
“Absolutely not,” he replies, his head shaking, hand blindly searching for the car door handle behind his back.
“Andrea, this is silly. Dylan’s a sweet boy and this could be a good learning moment for him.Get over here.” I emphasize the last bit with a ‘come here’ wave.
“Sorry, Bev, but something came up. Maybe next time.” His smile is anything but genuine as he hops into the car, slamming the door shut and backing out while I frown at his retreating form.
“I guess I can’t blame him, you did chase him pretty far,” I say to Dylan, my eyes finding a smirking Donatello when I look up. “You never said why you were here.”
He shrugs, his hands in his pockets. “I was going to stop by and see Laney, but I guess she’s not here.”
“Do you hang out with her a lot?” I question, watching the way he shifts in place.
“You’re nosey,” he finally responds, backing away from me. “I’m out of here. See you next week for boxing?”
I smile but don’t push him further. “Yeah, sure.”
Chapter Eight
REMY
“This isn’t what I ordered.”
My eyes close momentarily as I look down at my phone, flicking through messages instead of watching Viva’s latest meltdown.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Luciano, we had you down for the lobster stuffed rigatoni, is that not correct?”
Mrs. Luciano.
The vile woman doesn’t deserve my last name, let alone being called it in public.
Clicking my phone shut, I sigh, watching as Viva sneers at the waitress. “No. I’m not eating gluten right now, why would I order pasta?”
“She’ll eat it.” I take the warm plate from the waitress, dropping it loudly in front of Viva. “Thank you, we’re good for now.”
The waitress smiles, her eyes nervously flitting between Viva and me before a quiet, “Please enjoy your meal,” is said and she hightailed it away from our table.
At Viva’s scoff, I lean back in my seat, grabbing her glass of Cuvée S, Blanc de Blancs to toss back.I need it more than she does.
