Page 34 of The Woman on the Jury

Though, objectively, that might have been because I was so upset and scared when I’d barged into that bar after finding a news article that talked about Cosimo Costa frequenting a little dive bar a few blocks from his luxury penthouse apartment.

“There you are,” the man said, his accent just a little stronger than I’d expected. “Halle, right?” he asked, though he clearly already knew.

“Right,” I agreed.

He was attractive, and he had the kind of carriage that suggested he knew that about himself.

He was younger than Cosimo, though. Maybe in his mid-twenties instead of thirties.

“Miko,” he said, giving me a nod. “You ready to head out?”

“Ah, yes,” I said, falling into step with him as he held out a hand like he might touch my lower back, but not actually doing it.

“Where you going?” he called when, outside the doors, I turned in the direction of the subway. “Here,” he said, gesturing toward a sleek black car parked at the curb.

“Oh,” I said, shaking my head at the absurdity of having a car in the city. I mean parking was a bitch. It seemed like a complete headache to me. “Right,” I added, sliding in as he held the door open for me.

The inside was somehow even nicer than the outside, with a control panel that belonged in a spaceship, not a car.

“Don’t freak out if your ass starts to feel warm,” Miko said after getting into his seat, and hitting some buttons on the screen of the control panel. “Got butt warmers in the seat,” he added as he craned his neck to check the traffic. I wasn’t sure why he bothered, though, because he pulled out into it recklessly, getting a chorus of honks from everyone already on the street. “Don’t gotta grab theOh, Shitbar,” he said, smirking as I gripped the handle above my window with white fingers. “Never been in an accident in my life.”

“Just caused them then,” I said before I could think better of it, but Miko just shot me a smirk at that.

“Think we’re gonna get on just fine,” he said.

I didn’t bother asking how he knew to head in the exact direction of my shop. These were guys who’d managed to track me down at a hotel. Of course they knew where I worked.

“This your place, huh?” he asked after insisting on lifting the security gate himself, then following me inside.

“It’s my grandfather’s place,” I clarified.

“Yeah, but it’s gonna be yours. That’s why you’re here, no?” he asked.

I couldn’t stop my lips from twitching, deciding I liked the way he talked. Like a mobster on TV or something. It was charming for reasons I couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“I want our family’s legacy to live on,” I said, thinking I’d answered well enough, but Miko turned from running his finger over the head of a bronze dog statue.

“Nah, sugar, that ain’t the full truth of it, is it?” he asked.

He was almost unnervingly perceptive.

“I expected my brother to take over,” I admitted, walking out to flick on some of the lamps to light the darkened corners.

“And he don’t wanna.”

“He’d rather be the lapdog to a bunch of rich ladies,” I said, shrugging.

“But you ain’t bitter about it, huh?” he asked, a devilish little smirk toying with his lips.

“I think I’m more upset that it was kinda sprung on me when I realized how much my grandfather was slipping, and how poorly the store has been run. If I’d always known this was my fate, I would have made sure I kept it in order all along. Even if just in my free time,” I told him as I came around the front of the shop to plug my phone into the cord I had hidden under the front desk.

To that, he nodded.

“This place got a back room? Back entrance?” he asked.

“Ah, yes,” I said, nodding. “There’s an alley out back shared by all the buildings around here,” I told him.

“Show me,” he called out, checking to make sure the front door was locked, then following me through the store.

---