Page 15 of Mob Boss's Second Chance

“Shoot,” she says as her enthusiasm deflates. She taps her chin, slipping into her world while I sit silently, surrounded by the low chatter from other diners. “I don’t know if he’ll be willing to let me go on such short notice, but I’ll try.”

Then she reaches for her bag. “You know what? I’ll send him a text right now. He’s probably at that bar he frequents every Sunday. Hopefully, he’s had a couple of drinks and is in a less bitchy mood.”

I’m not surprised that Danielle’s a hundred steps ahead of me, but I haven’t told her everything yet. “I’m not sure if I want to do it, though,” I drop the bombshell.

She pauses and shoots me an incredulous glance. “What are you talking about? You just said you told him you’d do it?”

An audible, tired sigh escapes my lips as I drag a hand over my face. “I don’t know, Danielle. I feel like a gig like that is something you do once because you don’t want to screw up again.”

“Oh.” Her facial expression turns into one of sympathy, and Danielle pouts as she reaches for my hands, holding them across the table. You’re worried,” she says softly. But you shouldn’t be. You’re the best person I know when it comes to giving a five-star performance. Your clients love you because you’re the best.”

I know.

“And I’m confident you’re going to crush it again,” she adds, shaking my hands, probably to ignite the excitement I lack. “I know I’m your best friend, and you think I’ll lie to make you feel better, but trust me when I say that the Cross family loves you. At least Anthony did.”

Danielle wiggles her eyebrows suggestively when I frown, showing my confusion. “I saw him checking you out while you were working hard. He didn’t try to hide it either.”

I scoff, pulling my hands away. “I doubt that. Anthony Cross behaves like that with everybody. If you think he has something for me, then he probably has something foreverybody,too.”

She shakes her head. “Nuh-uh. I know what I saw. I also—” I get a finger to keep me from interrupting, “know that he’s a poster playboy, which is why I’m certain that he was checking you out.”

Based on Danielle’s dating history, I’m inclined to believe her, but I still have my doubts. If Anthony Cross had something else going on, I would’ve noticed from our interactions. He didn’t treat me like a contract staff, but he wasn’t overly touchy, either.

Every time he came around, it felt like an interaction between two friends—one extremely extroverted.

Ethan Cross, on the other hand, is the reason why I’ve spent hours thinking about pulling out of the job. I know it’s last minute, but I couldn’t say no when the offer came because Anthony gave me no room.

He stopped by my office, brought flowers—not roses—and told me that I did a good job, so he needed me again.

And the pay was more than I collected for the small party. It’s more than I’ve ever collected for a single event.

The only problem is that I’m not sure if it’s worth seeing Ethan again.

I told myself that I’d put it behind me—the way he made me feel every time we crossed paths and the fact that I couldn’t get him out of my head.

After the night when I saw him with a torn shirt and bloodied fist, I spent days thinking aboutthatand the scar on his back. Then, the days turned into weeks, and my life returned to normal.

Now—I don’t know.

“You’re overthinking it,” Danielle snaps her fingers in my face. “Think about it like this. You’re going to a high-profile event where you can expand your clientele. Don’t you want money, sugar? Because I know if I had your opportunity, I wouldn’t have to think about it.”

Again, she’sright. Another Cross-related event means better clients. The birthday I planned was someone who was at the intimate party thrown at the house.

This one is larger, more of a black-tie event.

“You know what?” I blink, refocusing on the conversation. “I’ll ask my boss for a day off. A sick day or something. I’ll come with you.”

I’m shaking my head already. “Nah. You don’t need to. It’s fine. I can handle this on my own.”

Danielle clicks her tongue. “No way. I’m going to be your plus one, and I’ll make sure you leave with a beau by your side. It wouldn’t hurt to get one for myself, too,” she adds, her eyes glimmering with mischief.

“I knew it,” I say with mock disappointment, even as a smile curls my lips.

“What can I say? I like good things. Speaking of good things, I’m craving ice cream.” She pushes the chair back and stands. “I’m going to get some for us, then your milkshake and some burgers. Do you want anything else?”

She doesn’t wait for me to respond before leaving, but my appetite is diminished anyway.

In a way, I’m glad Danielle dragged me out of my apartment on the weekend to get ice cream because I might’ve called Anthony with some flimsy excuse and canceled, all because I couldn’t handle seeing a man who doesn’t care that I exist.

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