Page 24 of Sinful Like Us
5
THATCHER MORETTI
Her babyblue Beetle is nowhere in sight. I push forcefully out of the sports bar. Rain pelts the cracked sidewalk and the umbrella that Tony is holding. He guards the door of a black stretch limo, parked against the curb.
Her dad’s limo.For the past week, Jane has been borrowing the limo, just so she can block out Tony with the screen divider.
She’s in there now, and I don’t waste a fucking second. I jog forward, surrounding paparazzi yelling my name.
“THATCHER!”
“THATCHER! THATCHER!”
“WHAT CAN YOU TELL US ABOUT YOU AND JANE?” Cameras click and flash.
I stay deadlocked on my objective:the limo.
Jane.
Jane.
Jane.
I reach Tony, and his thick eyebrow rises with the most fucking annoying self-importance. His slicked back, dark-brown hair accentuates his jawline and short stubble. He postures himself in his expensive suit like he’s somehow better than me, and I hate how he tilts the umbrella away from my head just so I stand soaking in front of him.
I hate how he smiles smugly.
And I fucking hate how he’s keeping me from her.
“Move,” I order.
“Move? No,hey, paesan’?” He puts a hand to his chest in mock hurt.
I wouldn’t call him my paesan’ if someone paid me five grand. I use that Italian term for men in my family that I love, and he’s not one of them.
“Move,” I repeat, rainwater dripping off my eyelashes.
He cocks his head. “Is that really how you’re gonna treat your uncle?”
I love that my mom married Nicola. I hate that Nicola is his older sister, and I can’t stand that he’s related to meon paper.Thank fucking God it’s not by blood.
Under my breath, I growl, “I’m going to treat you a lot worse if you don’t move your ass.”
Tony rolls his head back like I’m a joke and he’s some kind of king. “You sure you don’t want a progress report on your girlfriend first? I’ve been with her all day. Want to know how many times she mentioned you?” He mouths the word,zero.
I grit my teeth.
Don’t grab him.I force myself not to shove him. Not with cameras flashing, not with paparazzi in view, and I stare at this piece of shit. Blistering inside out.
I tap into the last sliver of fucking willpower I have just to suppress a hotheaded reaction.
Don’t deck him.
“Move,” I orderagain. I’m not playing around. “Or else I’ll radio your lead and let him know you’re disobeying a direct command.”
His mouth forms a line. “You’re not my superior, Moretti.”
“No, but I’m the boyfriend toyourclient.” I glare through sheets of rain. “And I’m allowed direct access to my girlfriend, so I’m telling you one last time.Move.”
