I have to wonder if she even knows what it means. Hell, she went to college, so she should. But she’s definitely not down to fuck.
Yet.
Vanessa reluctantly takes the serving spoon to ladle coq-au-vin and mashed sweet potatoes onto Damien’s plate. She even serves him salad in the small bowl, drawing out the entire act.
“Thank you,” Damien says, staring at her, although I don’t miss that he strokes her ass, too.
“I don’t need salad,” Slayer drawls when she moves around to his spot.
“Give him salad, so he doesn’t die of scurvy,” I answer, amused. “We need to make sure his swimmers are healthy and strong, right?”
I know Damien doesn’t agree with me, and the tightening of his lips proves me right. But he doesn’t argue.
Vanessa fills Slayer’s small bowl with salad then comes over to me, filling my plate and bowl as well. I grab for her waist, but she sidles back. “I still need to pour the wine,” she says, like she just can’t wait.
“She’s so cute and domesticated,” Slayer comments.
“My wife’s love language is service, after all,” I say, and Vanessa flinches. “It gets her a bit hot, to be ordered around like a maid. To think about being used by other men.”
She looks like she wants to stab me with the wine opener, but instead, she uses it for the cork, if a bit more savagely than absolutely necessary. “It needs to breathe,” she says a little tersely after she opens it and sets the cork and corkscrew aside. “Then I’ll pour it.”
Damien takes the wine off her hands. “I’ll handle the alcohol. You shouldn’t drink, anyway.”
“On account of Vanessa being underage?” I joke, although I know the real answer.
Predictably, Damien responds, “No. In case she gets pregnant. Alcohol is bad for the baby.”
Slayer rolls his eyes. “Oh, please. It’s highly unlikely she’s going to get knocked up tonight. One glass of wine won’t hurt anything.”
“I don’t drink anyway,” Vanessa interrupts them as she finally takes her seat next to me.
Damien pours wine for me, then for himself. He sets the bottle of wine down on the table without serving Slayer. “You did mention that. Your sister was the party-goer, not you.”
“Besides, aren’t you supposed to be the cop?” Vanessa asks, her voice a little icy as she stares at Slayer. “You’re the last person who should be encouraging an underage woman to drink.”
He grins at her. “I never said I was a good cop. In fact, I think you’re the one who said I made a shitty cop.”
I put an arm around Vanessa’s shoulders and pull her closer for a quick kiss to her forehead. “That’s not how we’re gonna encourage him to fuck you, sweetheart. We gotta play nice! Do all the small talk stuff, give vague hints so Damien and Slayer aren’t sure if we’re flirting with them or not.”
Vanessa gives a long-suffering sigh, finally ladling out her own food. She doesn’t put much on the plate, and I notice Damien frowning at her. She seems oblivious, though, as she pokes at her food.
“Come on, ask a few questions,” I prod. “I bet you’re dying to know about us.”
At that, she pauses with her fork halfway to her mouth. She sets it down, looking quizzically at me. “You mean you’ll actually answer me if I ask you questions?”
Slayer snorts. “I’ve got nothing to hide.” The smirk that flits across his lips makes Vanessa flinch a little, but he softens a little as though remembering this is supposed to be a date. “I’m an open book to you tonight.”
“Why’d you become a cop, if you don’t actually care about protecting anybody?” she asks quietly, lowering her gaze.
Damien and I exchange a look. Apparently, this whole cop thing is really weighing on poor, sweet Vanessa.
“You know he’s not the only corrupt cop, right?” I say, poking her side. “Slayer and I are tight, but there’s a lot of them on my payroll. Never mind the other mafia families.”
Vanessa takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. She doesn’t like that answer, judging from the way her lips tighten.
“I do want to protect people,” Slayer says with a shrug. “Most people, anyway. It’s just that Giulio pays much better than a cop’s salary, and he’s been there for me through some serious shit. No one else would’ve done as much for me as he has.”
I don’t miss the side-eye Damien gives Slayer. He knows some of what happened, but to him, Slayer’s still just an informant, somebody who shouldn’t be trusted this much.