Page 61 of Dead Set on You
Diapers. Eggs. Octogenarians.
“How long do I have you for?” she asks, sliding the envelope beneath the bar. “There’s some stuff I’d like your eyes on.”
“No time, L.”
Her face contorts with disappointment.
“Way to go, Raffy Taffy,” I mutter. A knee-jerk reaction I kick myself for.Conditions.
Rafael’s shoulders stiffen, but he doesn’t glance my way.
“Right,” she says, her movements tense as she starts to wipe the bar.
“I’m sorry, but I have aproblemI need to take care of.” Rafael projects his voice in my direction.
“A problem?” I squeak.
“Conditions.” Rafael coughs into his shoulder.
“Conditions?” The woman stops midwipe.
Rafael scratches his chin. “Yes. The air conditioning in my apartment is down.”
“Hmmm. Shit time for that to happen. It’s like ninety degrees out there.” She resumes cleaning the counter. Rafael shoots me a warning glare.
I return it and say, “You dropped off your super-secret Mafia payout. Let’s go.”
His jaw locks up, swallowing words I imagine he desperately wants to say.
“What are you looking at?” She sees him stare at nothing.
Rafael swiftly shifts his attention to her. “Nothing. Thought I heard something.”
“Probably Owen. He’s in and out all day. I told him I didn’t need him around, but he insists on standing out there.” She shakes her head. “Stubborn-ass men all around me.”
Rafael chuckles. “I promise I’ll be less stubborn once I deal with myproblem.” I don’t appreciate the emphasis on the word. “And you might be able to help.”
“With the AC shit?”
“No. My other problem.”
She drops the rag and leans her elbows on the counter. “Something else broke?”
“Yes, like your ability to definepriorities,” I say, enjoying the way Rafael tenses. “And unless she has a solution for fixing me, we should go.”
Rafael shifts his body away from me. “So, you remember that medium you were telling me about? Can you give me her address?”
“A medium? For you? Raffi, I don’t think you can—”
“It’s for a friend.”
The woman appears to be considering the truth of his words, then says, “I’ll text you the address and give her a heads-up.” Shedigs into her fitted jeans and pulls out a phone. “When do you think you’ll finally be ready to—”
“Soon.” He cuts her off, his tone abrupt.
“I know it’s tough for you, but I need you too.” She sets the phone down and reaches over, despite his harsh tone. Her hand covers his, her thumb brushing his skin in an easy, familiar way. My breath catches. Something in my chest feels icky.
“I missed you,” she says.
