Page 3 of Doll Face

She pointed to a name tag he hadn’t seen. “I’m Macy.”

Just then the bell over the door jingled, dragging him back into the real world. He half turned, seeing two people enter the coffee shop. Hell, he had completely lost his perspective. Any one of his enemies could’ve just waltzed in and shot him in the back. They would’ve also killed Macy, and that thought made rage bubble up. The thought of something happening to her was unacceptable. His world wasn’t meant for someone like her.

“I, ah, I have a meeting to get to,” he said quickly. Then hesitated. He should do the right thing and never return. Trouble was, he rarely did the right thing. “Do you work tomorrow?”

She nodded, and he smiled.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Macy.”

He winked, grabbed his two coffee cups, and left the little shop. Rocco leaned against the passenger side of the car, keeping watch. Protecting his body like he was paid to do. Only he knew Rocco was more than a hired gun. They’d grown up together and Matteo considered Rocco his best friend and confidant.

“Who’s the chick?” Rocco said as he took his latte.

“My future wife,” Matteo said and Rocco choked a little on his drink.

“You’re evil, man,” Rocco muttered as he wiped some spewed foam off his shirt.

“And I’m not a liar. Come on. Business awaits.”

****

Matteo entered the jewelry store with Rocco trailing behind.

“May I help you?” asked the sales associate.

“Tell Roberto that Matteo Romanelli is here,” Matteo said.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Just tell him, and then, get the fuck out of here.” Matteo glanced at Rocco and gave an imperceptible nod toward the door.

“Everyone out!” Rocco said loudly. “Move it!

Fear filled the faces of the half dozen customers as Rocco shooed them out.

“Sir!” the sales lady cried. “What are you—”

Matteo leaned forward and snarled in her face. “Are you fucking stupid or just hard of hearing? Get Roberto and then get the fuck out. I won’t say it again.”

The woman gave a fearful nod and backed away, scurrying through the employee door. A moment later, Roberto came out and Rocco let the woman leave, locking up behind her.

“Check the back room,” Matteo ordered, and Rocco went hunting for anyone left behind. “I honestly thought I’d never have to come in here to talk to you like this. I thought we were on the same page.”

Roberto was a small, Hispanic man, with slicked back hair and a sliver of a moustache that reminded him of Gomez Addams. The Romanelli syndicate had lent him money to start up his jewelry store, with the guarantee that payments would be made in unmarked diamonds.

Rocco came out and gave him a pointed nod that the coast was clear.

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” Roberto stuttered, fear blanketing his face.

“And now you’re a liar, as well?” Matteo shook his head sadly. He pulled out his gun, screwed on a suppressor, and shot the main glass case that faced the entrance. “I don’t like people turning me into a fool.”

“N-No fool,” Roberto said shakily.

“Where are my diamonds?” Matteo demanded.

When Roberto didn’t answer quickly enough, Matteo shot another glass case, causing Roberto to jump.

“You came to me, Roberto,” Matteo said, moving in so close Roberto shrunk away in desperation. Rocco grabbed the man’s jacket to hold him still. “You asked me for enough money to open this store when all other means failed. I thought payment was simple and clear. Raw diamonds that you turn into flawlessly, unmarked cut ice.”

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