Page 77 of Caruso
I force a bright smile onto my face as he glances past me, desperate to rejoin his friends.
“I should let you go. Good luck with the wedding and, well, life really.”
He nods and then says softly, “You’re a good kid, Taylor. Consider what I said. We’re survivors, you and me. We came from nothing but will leave with everything. Follow my advice and you may luck out.”
He rummages in his pocket and pulls out a crumpled card.
“Here’s the number of the agency. Call them. You won’t regret it.”
I hold the piece of card in my fingers and wish I could tear it into pieces. But I can’t. No emotion, remember.
I smile coolly and jerk my head toward his friends.
“You should go. It’s your stag after all.”
He nods and smiles, a fleeting glimpse of the boy I once knew. “I like the hair, by the way. Really edgy,but you may want to tone it down for the geriatrics. I wish you luck with that, and who knows, our paths may cross again one day at some event or another. Good luck, kid; it was nice seeing you.”
He heads off as if he hasn’t a care in the world, and I slip the card into the potted tree.
My past is gone, what little I had left of it, and the only one still standing is me.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Tommaso
By the looks of it, the meeting didn’t go well. I studied every slump of her shoulders, every hard expression he directed her way and the dismissive body language that told me he is no threat to me—to us.
He’s a lowlife, evident from the company he keeps and the clothes he is wearing. Trailer trash made good. I sized him up in seconds.
Taylor has her back to me, and when I saw her slip his card into the plant, I signaled to my guard to retrieve it later.
I must take a look at that for information. Jason needs to be filed into the past becauseweare her future. I understand that now because the idea of her going anywhere with him is ridiculous.
She turns, and her expression is impassive as she heads back to the table. Her food uneaten, her anger evident.
“I want to leave.”
She stands at the edge of the table, destruction heavy in her eyes, and I nod, peeling off two fifties as I follow her outside. She doesn’t walk past their table on purpose, avoiding any further contact, and I like that—a lot.
As the guards close in around us, I notice Jason’s eyes following us and relish the astonishment in his eyes. I pin him to his seat with my darkened gaze and am positive he is shitting his pants right now, judging from the way his skin pales and he shifts on his seat.
We move at speed toward our car, and as the guard holds open the door, Taylor slips inside to the edge of the seat and pointedly stares out of the window. Obscuring her face from me, disguising her pain and I type out a text to the driver as well as my brothers.
It’s only when we reach the outskirts of the city that she turns and wipes her eyes on the back of her hand and sniffs, “What’s happening?”
“We’re taking a detour.”
“Where?”
If anything, she appears afraid about that, so I am compelled to reassure her, not wanting to add to her anxiety.
“Our home in the mountains.”
“Really?” She blinks in surprise. “Giorgio wanted to take me there. Will he be there?”
“No.” I shake my head.
“I figure we need time alone, princess. It’s the best place for that.”
