Page 30 of Tainted Love

The server arrives — a young man with dark features and a thick, Sicilian accent — and offers us both a glass of wine and a pair of menus of glance over. I notice the light bulge in his jacket where a small pistol lies hidden in a holster wrapped around his shoulders. The mark of a mob restaurant — even the wait staff is packing heat.

I smile as Lucy notices the same thing.

“Hold on…” she murmurs softly after he walks away. She looks around, twisting her neck so far it might break. “Is everyone here a criminal?”

“Almost,” I answer, truthfully. Her eyes grow wider, locking on the faces at the tables surrounding us. “Don’t stare, Lucy. You wouldn’t want to get whacked.”

Her head whips forward and she stares at her wineglass instead. “Right…”

I admire the adorable flush of her cheeks for a moment. “You can look at me.” I chuckle.

Her face turns up, her pink rouge shining in the red-tinted lamps above our heads.

“Just be cool, Lucy.”

“You brought me to a mafia hideout for dinner?” she whispers.

“I brought you to a nice place for dinner.”

“A nice place owned by the mob.”

“I challenge you to find a nice place in Chicago that isn’t.”

She pauses to chew on her lip, concentrating hard to keep her eyes on me. “Just be cool, huh?”

“Graceful. Elegant. Poised,” I say. “You know, all the things you claimed to be last night.”

“Is that doubt I hear rolling off your tongue?”

“Maybe.” I smile, reacting to the tough, Chicago accent seeping through her teeth. “You going to prove me wrong?”

Lucy picks up her wineglass. “I assure you, Mr. Hart… I have grace and elegance coming out of my ass.”

I laugh as a hand slaps my shoulder.

“God, I love a pretty broad with a dirty mouth!”

I look up to find Enzo Zappia lingering over me in a dark burgundy suit, looking exactly like his old man minus about twenty years.

“Enzo!” I greet, extending my hand to him as I gesture around with the other. “This place is wonderful. You’ve done a fine job.”

He whips my wrist like he’s herding cattle and then lays his hand on his chest. “It tickles me to hear you say that, Hart. I’m honored you could make it tonight.”

I lean toward him an inch. “Well, your father didn’t give me much choice.”

Enzo laughs, the sound carrying across the entire room, but no one bats an eye. He’s a Zappia, after all, and the owner. He can do whatever the fuck he wants.

“But this—” He points at Lucy. “This beauty must have been worth the effort.”

“She’s certainly proving to be.” His hand slips from my shoulder and he extends it across the table toward her. “Lucy, this is Lorenzo Zappia.”

Her brow twitches at the name and I detect sly malice behind her eyes. Perhaps bringing her to spend the night out amongst the people who gave her father a gambling addiction and tried to kill him over it wasn’t the wisest of decisions.

Still, she throws on a pleasant smile and nestles her fingers in his.

“It’s a pleasure,” she says.

Enzo leans over and kisses her knuckles, a move that probably infuriates her, but she keeps her cool. “The pleasure is all mine, Ms…”

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