Page 18 of The Woman in the Garage

“Okay. So. You have my full attention. What do we need to discuss?” I asked, placing my arms on the desk. I didn’t know if I was intentionally trying to contrast Santo’s suddenly tight, tense body language, but I offered him an encouraging smile.

Santo’s chest expanded, stretching his white shirt tight for a second. “Your uncle and I had a… business arrangement.”

“A business arrangement,” I repeated. “Are you an investor?”

“No, definitely not. All that,” he said, gesturing out toward the garage, “was all Phil.”

“You’re being deliberately vague,” I said, my head tipping to the side.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” he agreed, leaning forward. “Been trying to rack my brain for a delicate way to bring this up…”

“Oh, God. He owed you money, didn’t he? Are you, like, a bookie or something? What was it? Sports? Cards?”

“No, I’m not a bookie. But the fact that you’re not freaking out about that makes this a little easier,” he said, giving mea smile that totally didn’t melt my panties or anything. “Your uncle gave me and my family money monthly. For protection.”

“For protection from what? Like… personal security?” I mean, this was a garage full of reasonably fit men. What did they have to be so afraid of?

“Not exactly. Yes, we do work as a sort of personal security, if or when that’s necessary. But it’s also that when people know the shop is under our protection, they know not to fuck with it in the first place.”

“Wait… that’s… that sounds like something I heard of in a doc—“

A documentary.

About the mob.

And their protection rackets.

“There it is,” Santo said, exhaling so slowly and deeply that his lungs must have burned.

“So, Grassi. That’s…”

“My last name.”

“But also your…Familyname?”

“Yes.”

“You’re in the mafia?” The words were out of me before I could think them through. I mean, were you even supposed to acknowledge to a member of the mob that they were a mafioso? Was that, like, dangerous?

Was I in danger?

From the man who’d been starring in my sexual fantasies for a week?

Even just sitting there talking, with his coffee and cocoa scent wafting over to me, had my sex aching for him to just… clear the desk and take me on top of it.

No matter how much I knew that was never going to happen.

My fears fell away, though, as Santo’s lips twitched before he gave up on the fight and let the smile spread.

“Yeah, sweetheart. That’s exactly it.”

Wow.

Okay then.

That was just… so like me, wasn’t it?

To be jonesing after the walking red flag.

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