Page 45 of Shark Bait

“I’m pregnant.”

I pat my belly. “How far are you?”

“Second trimester. Not sure how many weeks yet, but I have an appointment tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow won’t work,” Alessio says. “See if you can reschedule.”

I pick at my food. “I’ve not seen an OB yet.”

The silence is deafening, and I hate it. I’m trying to make conversation with strangers who’ve been the first nice people I’ve encountered this year, and every time I bring up anything remotely normal, everyone shuts up and I feel like I’ve muted conversations that previously flowed well enough to be entertaining.

“Did I say something wrong?” I ask.

“No,” Shark answers. “I’ll take you whenever you want to go.”

“This week, then, if the OB has room in the schedule.”

Shark glances at me. “If she doesn’t, she will make room.”

“You can take my appointment,” Valerina suggests. “Tomorrow. Then we’ll go shopping.”

“Troy is busy tomorrow,” Alessio says. “In fact, we all are.” He neatly places his utensils on his plate and folds his cloth napkin on the side. His eyes meet Shark’s. “Isn’t that right, my friend?”

Shark doesn’t look up or acknowledge Alessio at all. He picks up a carving knife and spins the blade while balancing the tip of it on his left index finger without making it bleed.

Alessio’s eyes narrow at Shark, who doesn’t look away from the spinning blade.

“Troy,” Alessio says, “I have a proposal for you.”

Shark lets the blade fall. It thuds to the table and makes both me and Valerina jump a little. Okay, this quiet and easygoing man can be intense when he wants to be.

“You’ll run your proposal by me first,” Shark states in a way that makes me think his word is final. I’ve never heard him use this tone of voice before. Evidenced by the slight widening of his eyes, Alessio seems shocked too.

What’s the proposal?

SIXTEEN

TROY. UNBOXED

TROY

“Alessio, I’m sure your offer can wait until after the cakes,” Valerina says. “We wouldn’t want to ruin our guest’s birthday.”

Alessio turns toward his sister. “What makes you think I’d ruin her day?”

“Oh.” She pats his shoulder as she stands to clear the table. “You overestimate your charm.”

“Agreed,” Shark comments under his breath.

“I don’t know about that,” I tell Valerina, deciding to play devil’s advocate. “Alessio flew me here on a private jet, has welcomed me into his house, and now there’s this awesome dinner, not to mention I think he’s the man who’ll launder my money. I’m charmed.”

Valerina suppresses a smile. “When you put it like that…”

Shark mumbles something under his breath again, then shoves a piece of beef into his mouth the way I would shove it into mine if I wanted to prevent myself from saying something guaranteed to start an argument at the table.

In fact, that one Thanksgiving when my oldest brother, Denver, brought his ditzy girlfriend for dinner, I kept my mouth stuffed full of stuffing (pun intended). The girl could barely say two words without giggling.

Valerina excuses herself to the bathroom.

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