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Gun touched the dashboard. “You obviously didn’t pay anywhere close to fifty grand for this piece of garbage.”
“Hey.” I glowered at him. “No more disparaging remarks about my ride or our deal is off. Gary does his best.”
“Someone’s touchy,” he said, as he exited the truck with his sister tucked under his arm.
“I didn’t realize there were any houses this big in Fairhaven.”
“The house actually straddles the border of two towns,” Dusty said.
We arrived at a set of oversized ornate doors, and I pulled the rope.
“Play nice,” Gun reminded me.
“In other words, don’t kill him?”
“That’s a good start.”
“No promises. If he serves olives with pits, all bets are off.”
Gunther gave me an appraising look. “You have a lot of rules. It’s probably best that you live alone.”
“Rules are good.” Rules kept me alive.
A slender, well-dressed woman answered the front door. “Welcome. You must be Miss Saxon’s proposed replacement.”
“Lorelei Clay, and this is her brother, Gunther.”
“I’m Linda, one of Mr. Magnarella’s assistants. Please come in.”
She didn’t look like much of a threat. Kane seemed to be right that Magnarella favored staff over security.
Linda ushered us into the grand foyer that resembled the lobby of a museum. It didn’t surprise me that Magnarella was a fan of art. He certainly had the wall space for it.
“Give me one moment to inform Mr. Magnarella of your arrival.” Linda hurried from the foyer, her sharp heels clicking across the marble floor.
“How many wings does this place have?” I asked.
“Five, so three more than me,” Dusty replied.
“I’m glad you can joke about it.”
“Humor is a coping device.”
The sound of Linda’s heels brought our conversation to an abrupt end. “Mr. Magnarella will see you now.” She shifted her gaze to Gunther. “He asked that you wait here. He only prepared lunch for three.”
“How much does he think I’m going to be able to eat with this beak?” Dusty objected.
Gunther gave her a silencing look. “Understood,” he told Linda and nudged me forward. I scooped up the swan and carried her into the dining room.
They weren’t exaggerating about the mobster’s appearance. Vincenzo Magnarella had cheekbones that looked as though they’d been handcrafted by artisans with unhealthy perfectionist tendencies. Straight black hair skimmed a pair of broad shoulders. His suit looked expensive enough to rival a year of college tuition.
His dark eyes twinkled with amusement at the sight of the swan. “I’ll be honest. I did not have swan on my bingo card.”
Dusty opened her beak to protest, and I quickly closed it. “Mr. Magnarella, my name is Lorelei Clay. I’m here on behalf of Dusty Saxon. I’d like to officially request your approval to take her place.” I hovered awkwardly beside the table, uncertain whether to give the swan her own chair or hold her on my lap.
The vampire saved me from the indignity by signaling to one of his staff. “A booster seat for Miss Saxon, please.” He gestured to the chair adjacent to his. “Sit, Miss Clay. Let us get to know each other over a good meal before we make any decisions.”
The good meal was no joke. The penne was served with lobster and a vodka sauce and there were more side dishes than I could attempt to try. I enjoyed dining at Otto Visconti’s house because of the delicious offerings, but Vincenzo Magnarella put the other vampire to shame, not that I would ever admit it to Otto. The cursed vampire was too sensitive.
