Page 63 of Wicked Rivals

I set the tray on the bed, and Enzo lifted the domed lids to reveal a feast of pancakes, waffles, eggs, bacon. A little French coffee press, cream and sugar, and a tall glass of orange juice were also on the big-ass tray.

Watching Enzo quickly dig into the waffles, I took the press and poured myself a cup. As a café owner, I was a little embarrassed to admit the coffee might have been some of the best I’d ever had. I made a mental note to find out where it came from.

Not that it would matter. We were leaving soon.

A thought about Enzo’s school popped into my head. I hadn’t yet detailed in my plan how to handle his absence. Shrugging, I grabbed my phone and called Saint Christopher to let them know he would be out for a couple of days.

Instead of speaking to a human, a voicemail prompted me to leave a message on the attendance line. I let them know everything was fine and he would be back soon.

I lied.

The family emergency part of my message was true, though, technically speaking. It seemed perfectly logical that Enzo’s back-from-the-dead father getting shot counted as one.

It didn’t matter anyway. Enzo wouldn’t be going back to Saint Christopher once we got away from Stefano and on our way to our new life.

But the last thing I needed was to have the school call the police or do something equally stupid because they hadn’t seen him or heard from me. That would complicate things more.

An AMBER Alert for my son would make escaping nearly impossible.

Soon after ending the call, my phone rang with an unfamiliar number. I thought it might have been a barista from Con Amore, so I answered, slipping into the bathroom to keep Enzo from hearing whatever lie I would have to tell.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Ms. Salera… Valerie. It's Donnie.”

I moved the phone away from my face and stared at it for a second, like it had pulled a prank on me.

Are you fucking kidding me right now?

“Valerie,” he repeated.

“Yes, Mr. Luka. How can I help you this morning?”

“I saw the attendance report. Enzo isn't coming in today?”

“That's correct,” I said. “We have a family emergency, so we need a few days.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“What? No, but thanks.”

Why couldn’t this guy just take a hint?

“Are you sure, Valerie? I’m a great listener. Maybe you’d like to grab some coffee with me? Have someone to talk to.”

“Really, Mr. Luka, I appreciate the offer, but I’m busy.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked before I could end the call.

“I'm sure it will be,” I said through my clenched teeth.

“Well, if there's anything I can do to help… I know it's just you and Enzo, and?—”

“You know, Mr. Luka, I’m so sorry, but I have to cut you off. I need to go, but don't worry. Enzo's looking forward to being back in your class soon.”

I hung up and tossed the phone on the marble countertop.

Who the hell did he think he was?

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