Page 15 of A Very Rossi Christmas
I glared back, putting all my frustration into that one look, and saw her eyes flare with recognition.
And then the float got between us, and I lost sight of her. I stiffened, hating that I didn't know what she was doing in that moment, and nearly moved, just to try to keep my eyes on the spot where she'd been standing.
Then I remembered that I was in the middle of threatening Donny Patrelli. I couldn't exactly excuse myself, tell him I'd be right back, and move to try to catch sight of Sloane again.
I mean I could. But I was thinking it would probably ruin the whole ambiance I'd been putting together up to that point.
"Look, I'm not saying we don't have a deal," Patrelli said, ignorant of the million and one thoughts that had just flown through my head. "I am saying that there might be other business to be done."
Oh.
I hadn't even considered it, but if he had other loads of jewels to move—if I could go home with more loot than I'd originally been sent here for—then it could change everything. It would do a whole lot to show my father that I was capable of more than he realized.
It might even keep him from sending me into the lion's den without backup in the future.
I was opening my mouth to say that I might be agreeable to further business when I saw Sloane again. And she hadn't just moved a little bit. She'd moved a lot.
In fact, she was on her way over to my side of the street, her eyes still flitting between me and Patrelli and her lips still drawn into a thin, displeased line. She was also walking very quickly, nothing casual about her stride. She wasn't trying to hide that she was coming over here.
She was being completely fucking obvious about it.
And the moment she caught sight of me looking at her, she tipped her head again and gave me the look she'd always given me when she knew she was doing something I didn't want her to do.
The look that said she didn't give one single damn what I thought about it, because she was going to do it anyhow.
I knew that look by heart. It was one of my favorite looks in her arsenal, though I never would have told her that, and the moment I saw it, my heart did some insane thing where it managed to grow three sizes in the space of about a second.
But none of that—not the look or the heart-growing thing or anything else—was going to change the fact that this was not the time for my reunion with Sloane Brennan. This wasn't the time for Sloaneanything. I was in the middle of a meeting with the first guy my father had given me to meet with—the guy my father had sent me all the way to the West Coast for—and it was not the time for my former best friend-slash-crush-slash-daughter-of-my-enemy to just show up and start shouting at me.
And based on the daggers she was shooting my way with her eyes, that was exactly what she was going to do.
That was Irish Brennan's daughter right there, about to bust in on Official Rossi Business. And if that happened, I'd have to do something about it.
Something I didn't want to do.
"You know, additional business might be interesting," I told Patrelli quickly. "I saw a bar back there, just up the block. What say you we have a drink and discuss it, rather than standing out in the open? I'm starting to feel like there's a target on my back out here."
The man laughed and clapped a hand down on my shoulder, making me wince.
I hated when people touched me without permission. In this case, though, I held my tongue and returned the grin he was handing me.
"That sounds like a plan, Rossi. I've never done a bad deal over a drink. Let's go."
I turned with him, his hand still on my shoulder, and cast one last glance Sloane's way. I didn't see her anymore, and I sent a couple of wishes skyward, praying for two things: 1. that she'd gotten sidetracked or stuck, and 2. that she didn't see where we were heading.
It was one thing for me to be following her. I was just trying to keep her safe. It was a whole different matter for her to think she could bust in on a meeting with another family and ruin the deal I was trying to put together. Especially when I wasn't even sure whether she and I were friends these days...
Or enemies.
9
JOSEPH
A DARK, DESERTED HALLWAY
I stumbled toward the hallway that led to the bathroom, my head buzzing with a pint too much and my feet unsteady underneath me.
I should not have had so much to drink, I told myself for what had to be the fifth time. I should have turned down that third beer, and the shitty thing was that I'd known it even as I was saying that I'd take another.
