ChapterTen
Sienna
Dallas has never seemed so distant. Through Nico's car windows, the city appears remote. I clutch Mom's pendant so tightly it bites into my palm, the cold metal reminding me how inappropriate this is. Yet I'm conflicted, knowing Mom would be thrilled if she knew I was dating an older man.
I once questioned her about it."After your dad, I just want your happiness, regardless of whom you choose."She understood my preference for older men. Sophisticated. Experienced. Mature. That's why my faceless man always possessed those qualities. That's why Nico fits so perfectly.
Mom was killed in gang violence, though the perpetrators remained unidentified. If Nico is wealthy, a boss, surely, he wouldn't participate in street gunfights. Is that my twisted justification for this?
"Ready to face humiliating defeat?" he teases, winking playfully, drawing me back to the present.
"Ha, dream on," I mutter. "Nico..."
"Hmm?"
"Just one night," I emphasize. "I don't want to dampen the mood. But you understand my reasoning. I know you'd prefer I pretend otherwise?—"
"It's not that."
"Well, whatever it is, we don’t need to talk about it. It's simply mini golf."
He rests his hand on my thigh. I bite my lip as sensations surge through my leg, teasing mercilessly. I press my thighs together. My body responds instinctively, desire urging me to guide his hand higher.
"Simply mini golf," he echoes huskily.
I should tell him to move his hand. But there are lots of things Ishouldbe doing, all of which I seem determined to ignore.
He turns into the golf center's driveway. A sign above the entrance declares,Restaurant closed until further notice. I'm secretly relieved. I'm already questioning whether even golf is a good idea.
He smiles down at me, gesturing me through the imposing double doors.
"Is there a leaderboard, or do you have a plaque on the wall or something?" I inquire.
Before he can respond, a man calls from behind the desk. "Nico! The prodigy returns!"
Nico laughs and approaches him. The man exudes a kindly uncle aura—older, sporting a braided brown beard and warm smile. I feel somewhat awkward beside Nico as they embrace. How will he introduce me? Surely not as hisdate?
He gestures toward me with sophisticated ease. "This is Sienna Vale, a local artist. My mother commissioned her to capture her life. She's remarkably talented... though hopefully not at putt-putt."
"Two admissions, then? Certainly. But don't even consider offering payment."
Nico smiles. "It's no trouble?—"
"Not after you solved that situation with those pesky troublemakers!"
"Charley," Nico interjects tensely. "Perhaps we could talk about this later."
I consider literally plugging my ears. The only way I can enjoy myself—if I even deserve enjoyment—is by forgetting this mob connection. Yet here's unmistakable evidence. What sort of "help" did Nico Moretti provide?
Charley glances at me, comprehension dawning. "Of course."
"Don't worry," I assure him. "I worked at the Cattle and Vine. I've heard rumors."
Charley hesitates before shaking his head. "I don't understand your meaning."
"Two, please," Nico says stiffly.
"Certainly, certainly."