Page 31 of Shark Bait

“Yes! That’s fitting. Do you get a name?”

I shrug. “I don’t think so. Shark hasn’t come up with one.” When she starts chopping mushrooms, I add, “Can I help you with anything?”

“Actually, yes, you can, if you don’t mind.” She pushes a white cutting board toward me. “Help me with the mushrooms and celery.” She opens what looks like a pantry. “Oh, and grab the milk from the fridge.”

I open the fridge and spot a large pink cake with pink bows and candles shaped into a cross at the top of it. “Did you bake this?” I ask.

“Valerina joins me and regards the cake with a sigh. “I bake one every year on Guilia’s birthday.”

“Awww. What a nice way to remember someone. It’s a beautiful cake.”

“Thank you.” She gets back to work. “I did it in Rome and wasn’t sure how it’d turn out, but it’s not bad, I’d say.”

“It’s amazing.” I pull out the carton of milk and put it on the counter, biting my lip and wondering if I should say something about my own birthday. Is it a coincidence this Guilia and I share a birthday and I’m in her house with her family now when I haveno family of my own to celebrate with? I don’t think so. Still, I feel awkward about saying anything. I rub my belly.

Alessio walks into the kitchen and stands next to his sister. “Miro asked if you can bake Troy a cake for her birthday.”

“Sure. When is it?”

“Today,” I say.

Valerina wipes her hands and grabs me by my shoulders. She kisses both my cheeks. “Happy birthday! So exciting! We get to eat two cakes.”

I laugh. “That’s not necessary.”

“Nonsense. I’ll bake you one. What kind of cake do you like?”

Shark joins us. He sits next to me and rubs the small of my back before he puts both his elbows on the counter. “Valerina,” he greets Alessio’s sister. “What’s cooking today?”

“I’m making lasagna with fresh salad. And now also cake for your birthday girl.”

He chuckles. “That’s what I’ve been calling her.” He taps his temple. “In my head.”

Valerina sighs and touches the hollow heart pendant hanging from the thick golden chain around her neck. “It’s always nice to know a man thinks about you.”

“Is it, now?” Alessio slides his phone into his pocket. He rounds the island and sits on my right.

Being sandwiched between two men makes me sit up straight, and my heart starts to pound. I close my eyes and try to breathe through the fear because Alessio will not hurt me. He will not. Shark wouldn’t let him even if he tried.

My chair moves left, and I snap open my eyes (when did I close them?) to find myself sitting between Shark’s spread legs. Since he’s tall with long legs, he stretches them and hooks his heels on the footrest of my chair. He rubs my back, asking me nothing, not if I’m okay or if I’m comfortable or uncomfortable. He asks nothing at all. But his actions speak a thousand words.

He responded to my distress by pulling me into his space and away from Alessio.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

Valerina’s layering the lasagna, pretending as if nothing awkward happened, while Alessio traces his bottom lip with a thumb, eyes on me and Shark. If he apologizes for sitting down in his own kitchen and next to me, I might just lose it. I want to be normal so bad. I don’t want people to act weird around me, and yet I’m being weird around everyone.

“How many candles?” Alessio asks me.

I smile because he’s moving on, and I appreciate that. “You really don’t have to bake another cake. I’m happy to share the one already made.”

“How many?” he asks again, slightly harder this time.

I swallow before answering. All three of them are older than I am, with Alessio and Shark being well into their thirties. I could lie. “Twenty-five,” I say and then remember I told Shark I’m nineteen. Damn it.

Alessio narrows his eyes, and he taps the island. “Who wants to tell her?”

“Me,” Valerina says. “Troy, unfortunately for all of us, Alessio has this thing where he spies inside people’s heads and knows when they’re lying. It’s true. I’ve tested it several times.”

---