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"Which you-know-what? Wait. You know what, I'll find out when I call," Mandi hisses back.
The Giovanni beside her frowns when he sees I'm leaving and starts to say something, but Dante and I are already leaving the bar behind. He's clearly very proud of the gleaming red muscle car that he drives, and I decide to indulge his ego by asking what kind of car it is. It's a smart move on my part because it keeps him occupied talking about it until we reach the restaurant. I was right about it being the same one I ate earlier with my mother.
As we step into the restaurant, Dante wraps an arm around me. It makes me uncomfortable, as does his noticeable cologne. I'm sure it's expensive, but I'm not a fan.
He asks for a specific table, and once we take a seat, he hardly looks at the waiter, just telling them to bring us a bottle of expensive white wine as he smiles at me with too many teeth showing.
I Don’t bother reminding him that I'm not interested in alcohol. He probably won't notice if I simply swirl my wine and never drink it anyway.
As he talks about how it's such a shame we haven't gotten together before, I wonder if Roberto is still at that party. He probably left. I wish I could see him again, to get a glimpse of his adorably crooked smile and the mischief in his eyes. However, it would make it easier for both of us if he returned to Chicago immediately and took his men with him.
"—and I'm sure your parents will be so pleased to hear that we're finally getting to know each other, don’t you think?" Dante is saying.
He's right. They will be. And in the past, I thrived off meeting and exceeding all their expectations and getting everything just right. Now? I'm simply beginning to feel queasy again.
God, how often am I going to have morning sickness? This is ridiculous. I ignore the stomach roils and smile.
"Absolutely. They'll love you."
Our food arrived not long after—all he ordered because he had assured me he knew all the best dishes here by heart. It's a real wonder how he never stopped to guess that I mayalsohave everything here memorized, seeing as how I live here and he doesn't, but I take a bite of scallops and listen as he talks about himself.
By the third time, he mentions how he's been blessed with good genetics, I've decided he's vain. By the fifth time, I've decided Dante Parisi loves himself more than mosquitoes love blood, and I'm also writing the script for the rest of this date in my head again.
I can't help it—he's not fun or engaging like Roberto. In fact, there's no comparison. There isn't the tiniest genuine spark between us, and now that I know what it's like to be consumed with heat just being in that damn winking mafioso's presence, I don’t know how I'll be able to sit through more of this for the foreseeable future.
"—And I know how difficult it is for a woman to truly gain a reputation in your family, let alone in the California business world. It's a shame that's how it is, but I'm sure that your drug dealing will help in that area and earn you a big reputation before too long."
I don’t want a reputation. I like being the family's secret weapon to work without limit in the business world, but I don’t comment about him undermining my accomplishments. Instead, I've decided it's time to end this dinner date early because my nausea is getting worse, and I don’t want to puke all over Dante Parisi because I'd never hear the end of it from my parents.
"Could we get the check? I'll pay for my half."
"Oh, no, please, I won't hear of that," he says, feigning being insulted.
After he pays the waiter, being sure to flash a generous tip, Dante Parisi drives me home, still talking about California's underground business world matter-of-factly as if I haven't grabbed it by the balls and helped my family control it so carefully for the last few years. He obviously doesn't know much about what I do, but yet somehow Roberto, my family's enemy, understood my secret, powerful position immediately.
When we reach the private entrance of my luxury apartment, I turn and give him a smile. "Thank you for dinner, Dante. I'll call you soon."
He smiles, expertly ignoring my clear signal of the end of this date. "My rose, there's no need for the fun to end early. We have so much to discuss, you and I. Especially considering your request to take things seriously between us moving forward."
I unlock my door as I speak. "We'll have plenty of time to discuss it—"
Dante brushes past me into my apartment, looking around the sprawling floor plan and the large glass wall overlooking LA. My mother had her interior designer make my apartment minimalistic and fresh looking. I'm actually pretty fond of it, so I'm not thrilled when he says, "If we're taking this seriously, you'll be moving into my place soon anyway, so I wanted to get a feel for how you prefer to decorate. Quite tidy, aren't you?"
I take a deep breath. "Another thing to discuss later. I'm feeling a little run down right now, so if you don’t mind…."
Truthfully, I'm feeling nauseous, not run down, but Dante moves towards me with that same appreciative gleam in his eyes since we started speaking at the party. "I'm sure I can find a way of helping you feel revived, my rose."
God, I don’t want him making moves on me right now. He's moving too quickly, and maybe I asked for that earlier, but right now, I'm ready to either vomit or dislocate his arm to show him how serious I am about ending this date.
Before I can settle on one, Dante's hands close around my waist, pulling me tightly against him. Now I want to vomit for a very different reason because I don’t want to be felt up by this guy. Instincts kick in, and I twist and shove simultaneously, breaking away and putting distance between us while he gives me a reprimanding look. It sets my teeth on edge because nothing I said earlier could've made him feel entitled to touching me.
"I'm not feeling well and have a lot to work on. Let's schedule something else soon," I say crisply.
For a moment, I'm worried he'll ignore me and dare to touch me again, but finally, Dante Parisi straightens his tie and puts on a bright smile as if he's not irritated at all. "What work could possibly be more important right now than us getting to know each other better? Is this about the gala? We'll attend it together, and I know just the dress to make you shine at my side all night."
There is an upcoming gala, an event perfect for schmoozing with higher-up Russo connections that will want in onVitalen.I should discuss it with Roberto since we'll also meet with the other three representatives from the Five Families there. I have yet to broach the subject, considering the emotional chaos of the last few days.
I won’t dignify Dante's words with a direct reply. I should probably keep being docile to keep up my ruse of interest in him, but I'm done politely inviting him to leave.
