Page 14 of Forgotten Deal

“Since I got back from our trip and realized how freaking out of shape I am! Walking those damn hills nearly killed me. And you’ll be happy to hear I’ve quit smoking, so you can get off my nuts about that,” I inform him. “But I’m not giving up chips, I don’t give a fuck what anyone says.” That’s where I draw the line.

“Let me inside,” he demands. “I got a tip about a guy who fits John Davis’ description.”

“Jesus, you’re going to get me blacklisted on my first freakin’ day!” I grumble, but hand over my key card. I don’t know the deets other than the family’s looking for a man named John Davis. Better him than me. “Keep it. I’ll tell them I lost my card and get another one. But seriously, don’t get me blacklisted.” I don’t necessarily care about working out again—like ever—but I wouldn’t turn down another dealing gig.

Darius grunts.

“Tell Lily and Iris I said hi.”

“Will do,” he tells me. “Now get the hell out of here.”

I hustle to my car as fast as my worn-out limbs will manage, which admittedly isn’t very fast.

My phone rings, and I grab it from my bag; immediately, I wish I hadn’t. While I was in Greece, I turned off my phone, and my mamá’s calling, no doubt to give me an earful. Might as well receive the tongue-lashing in person over coffee, and so I drive to her bakery.

Parking, I step inside, and the delicious smells of my childhood overtake my senses. Mamá appears from the back, hands on hips. She proceeds to chew me a new one in Greek. “You give me these gray hairs!” She points to her hair, switching over to English.

“Sorry, mamá. I’ve been busy.”

“Sit,” she orders, and I take a seat at the table as she busies herself behind the counter making me ellinikos kafes.

“Vary glykos, please.” I like my Greek coffee extra strong and sweet.

“What’s this I hear about Darius’ new wife? Not Greek,” she says the last part as an indictment.

“No, Lily isn’t Greek. But she’s so sweet and really good for Darius. He adores her, and his stepdaughter, Iris. They’re such a cute family,” I tell her.

“At this point, I approve of any man for you—Greek or not.” She sighs dramatically.

“Thanks, mamá.” I roll my eyes.

“Except Dominic,” she amends. “Don’t think I haven’t heard he’s back. You stay away from him.” She points her bony finger at me.

Planning on it, I don’t argue as she carries over a tray with a tiny cup. Efcharistó, I tell her, taking a sip of coffee with the perfect amount of kaimaki.

“Oh, no,” Mamá says.

“What?” The door chimes, and I turn around, my eyes going wide as the saucer beneath my coffee cup.

“Mr. Mazza. Let me make you something to eat,” Mamá says in a rush.

“That would be nice, thank you,” my mistake from The Diamond bar says, straightening his tie. He wears a suit well, I’ll give him that. And that’s all the married asshole is gonna get from me.

“Katerina, come help me.” She practically jerks my arm off as she drags me out of my chair and to the back.

“Who is that man? How do you know him?” I quiz her.

“Fabio Mazza. Says he runs AC now, and the Parisi family’s demanding a weekly protection fee,” she whispers furiously.

“Fix this Fabio Mazza something to eat while I speak to him,” I tell her, patting her hand reassuringly. “He’s new to AC and obviously doesn’t know how things work around here.” Of all the men I could’ve hooked up with, why did he have to be a “family” man?

I march to the front and fling the door open, only to find Fabio taking a sip of my coffee. He gags, making a terrible face. “Why the fuck does this coffee have grinds in it?”

“Why the fuck are you shaking down my mamá? This is bullshit! Sergio didn’t even do that!”

“I handle AC business now, not Sergio,” he says coolly. “Why did you bail on me the other night?”

“I don’t fuck around with a married man,” I whisper furiously.

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