Page 57 of Salvatore

I pause in the middle of shutting down my laptop. As much as she’s repeatedly made this claim, I believe it’s the opposite and something she desires. “Okay. But if you change your mind, send me a text. We’re leaving after breakfast, but by nine at the latest so we can enjoy the day.”

“Nine?” she repeats. “You’re leaving at nine at the latest?” She sighs. “Honey, you know I’m never awake before ten. Besides, I don’t do the mommy thing. Making sure everyone eats and wiping noses is your department, not mine.”

“All right,” I say, slowly. I don’t miss the backhanded compliment, or the insult behind it.

Donnie isn’t mean. Really, she’s not. But she often teases me about becoming the mother Apollo and Gianno need and the one Salvatore needs for them. At first, I took it as good-natured needling. However, she brings up my role this way so often, I’m starting to think she envies the closeness I share with Salvatore and his brothers. I hope that’s not the case. I want her to be happy for the good things Sal and I have, including my relationship with his brothers.

“I have to go,” she says when I remain silent. “I have a nail appointment and I can’t be late if I want to look good for Vin.”

Her constant need to look perfect for Vincent is another thing that worries me about Donnie. I always want to look good for Sal. But considering he’s seen me without makeup and woken beside me after minimal sleep, it’s safe to assume he hasn’t always seen me look my best. But he still greets me with a kiss and longs for my affection. I can’t be sure Vincent would be as forgiving or as kind.

“All right, sweetie,” I say. “I’ll see you next weekend for lunch.”

My term of endearment and my promise to get together brings her back to the Donnie I adore. “Hey, Aedry,” she says, struggling to gather her words. “Have a blast tomorrow, okay?”

“I will, thank you,” I reply, smiling.

“Later, then,” she says and disconnects.

Donnie always has to end the conversation first. What’s the old term, “cut ‘em loose, before they cut you first?” It’s something I’ve come to know about her and it adds to my worry. She’s not perfect, but she’s someone I consider a friend.

My thoughts are on Donnie as I button my black wool coat. Although it’s cost me money, I’ve invested in more clothes, and thanks to Donnie’s tutelage, definitely more style. The knee-high boots and black leather pencil skirt I’m wearing are prime examples, as is the red scarf wrapped around my neck.

A knock to the door has me glancing up. “Hi, Aedry. Are you walking out?”

I return Max’s smile. He’s one of the new part-time counselors, who is connecting well with the students. He leans against the door, the buttons of his coat opening to reveal his cashmere sweater and khakis. “Yes, just give me a minute,” I tell him.

I shut off the desktop lamp and snag my purse. He steps out into the hall, watching me as I lock my office door. It’s not too long ago that I think I would have been attracted to Max. But since meeting Sal, no man can compare.

We walk down the hall. “I was asked to help out with the basketball tournament this weekend,” he says. “Are you going?”

“No, I have plans. When I help out, it’s usually with wrestling.” I don’t add that Gianno and Apollo are on the team and that I attend the meets with Salvatore.

Max grins. “You’re leaving me to fend off the single moms on my own?”

I laugh as we step out of the building and toward the staff parking lot. Max is a pretty boy, one who draws ladies (including some on the staff) like a magnet despite his best efforts to keep a professional distance. “Perhaps Coach Stevenson will let you borrow a bat to beat them off.”

“What I need is a pretty lady by my side. But, if you’re not available . . .” His smile vanishes as a car door slams shut ahead of us.

Salvatore stomps forward. His long black leather coat flying open like a cape and exposing the stone hard muscles pressing against his expensive suit. Menace drips from his pores. I do a double-take, unsure what he’s so upset about. “Hi?”

Sal yanks me to him, crushing his lips against mine and ramming his tongue deep enough to flick my tonsils.

The kiss is brief, but his claim on my waist and the sizzle behind those lips are more suggestive of our time in bed than a simple hello. My face burns as he keeps me anchored to his side and offers Max a hand.

“Hey,” he says, his gravelly voice laced with an extra dose of kick-ass. “I’m Salvatore.”

Poor Max. His eyes widen as he clasps Sal’s hand. I nudge Sal hard when he doesn’t release him.

Max shakes out his hand. “Hi,” he stutters.

I speak through my teeth. “This is my friend, Max. He’s one of the counselors we recently hired.”

Sal fixes Max with a hard stare. “Is he?”

I cover my face, mortified. With a sigh, I drop my hand away and smile, doing my best not to kill my behemoth and insanely jealous boyfriend. “Have a wonderful weekend, Max. I’ll see you Monday at lunch.”

Sal glares daggers at Max. “Why are you meeting him for lunch?”

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