Page 65 of Clean Slade
“Are you mommy’s family?”
Tony and Nino looked at Kingston for confirmation, and it was King who answered her question.
“They are, honey. They are. Shall we get on with this pizza before it gets cold?” he rushed to add, taking the boxes from Nino’s hands and placing them on the coffee table.
“Come on. What are we? Animals? We cannot eat on the floor. Don’t you have a dining table?”
King glowered but swallowed whatever he truly wanted to say and showed them to the dining room.
Santiago followed the men, with Joey standing protectively over Mac, but before King could follow, I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the side.
“Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” he answered, staring at the door they’d all disappeared through.
“No. That’s why I’m asking.”
“I’ll be fine.” He bit his lip and marched into the dining room. I was the last to come in and took a seat beside Joey. Tony had taken one at the top of the table and King took the other as if this was a battle of the alphas.
“So, Mr. Tony…what do you do?” Santiago asked with an awkward smile, and there was so much tension in the room he almost made me laugh.
“We run a family business, don’t we, Gianni?”
His son looked at him and nodded as Santiago’s smile grew even bigger.
“Oh, what kind of business?”
Tony turned to King and raised an eyebrow before he answered.
“Import. Export. That sort of thing.”
Santiago reached for a pizza slice. “Nice. Importing and exporting anything interesting?”
I didn’t miss how swiftly Joey’s leg moved under the table or the way Santiago yelped and dropped his pizza.
I didn’t know what Santiago was trying to achieve, or if he was just running his mouth because he was afraid, but if there was ever a time I wished I could make someone shut up just by staring, this was that moment.
I was certain Joey felt the same way.
“Fine. Let’s not talk business. Who’s your favorite Disney Princess?”
Nino laughed and fed a pepper to the dog in his lap. Mac giggled as Lucky made a fuss out of wanting more pizza toppings.
Santiago’s next question might not have been much better, but it moved the conversation, even if at a slow pace.
And that was how the next few minutes went. Everyone was quiet but the local journalist, whose entire job was asking all the uncomfortable questions.
“Oh, King, Hwan said he saw you at Bishop’s Point. What were you doing there?” he asked when the pizza was running low, though no one was in any rush to eat other than Mac.
Everyone’s appetite had been cut short by the visit.
A stillness coursed over the table as three sets of eyes stared at Santiago. Tony’s, Nino’s, and King’s.
“Oh, ah…yeah. I was…I was dropping off a dog,” he said, not believing it himself.
What had he really been doing at Bishop’s Point, and did the other two men around the table know?
Was that the terrible secret Tony had threatened to reveal?
