My chest warms in indignation. I still can’t believe she had the audacity to pull a fast one on me.
Some women are too easy, like a game of cat and mouse, only the mice have just been released and the cat’s got decades of experience on them.
Some like to play hard to get, their refusal and games part of the whole experience. It’s fun, getting to know them as you figure out how to convince them to give you what you like and expect.
I flip on the TV news to check traffic like we had to back in 1994. I hate not having my phone and my GPS. I know how to get to The Castle, of course, but need to see what rush hour through Boston’s looking like.
I grit my teeth and glance at the news. Red line of traffic all the way up north. It’ll take me an hour or two just to get to The Castle, even if I take side roads.
I shake my head and leave the room, head downstairs and grab food and a coffee. “Put it on my room tab, will you?”
“Of course, sir,” the girl says. I give her a wink and she flushes pink, nearly spilling the coffee.
Haven’t lost it. Good. Thought there for a minute with the chick taking off on me maybe I had.
Still, am I ever gonna whip her ass when I find her.
I take a huge swig of the coffee and head to the front desk. Rufus, head of security, catches my eye, and when I jerk my chin at him, he meets me by the corner of the large, gleaming desk where people are checking out. A tall, balding man in his late forties, we go back a decade.
“Morning, Mr. Rossi,” he says with a smile.
“Morning. Thanks for everything last night. You see anything out of the ordinary?”
“Well, sir,” he says quietly. “A few things.”
A few things? Dammit.
“Saw on our footage your… the woman you were with last night leaving early. You knew? Did you expect she’d leave early this morning?”
“Didn’t expect it, but I’m not surprised. Can you tell me where she went?”
“She took the T, sir.”
Ah. If she didn’t get an Uber, then she probably lives or works right here in the city instead of outside of it. It’ll also be a helluva lot harder to track her through public transportation, but I’ll do my best.
Could mean she’s broke, which I could use to my advantage…
“What else?”
He grimaces, and I look at him in surprise but don’t respond. I take another long pull of my coffee when his eyes trail over my shoulder. “Uh, well…” he says. It’s unusual for him to stammer. Instead of probing, I look over my shoulder where he’s looking to see not one, not two, but three of my brothers entering the main lobby of the hotel. Jesus, they make an entrance, every one of them stern as fuck, over six feet tall, tatted within an inch of their lives, and pissed. I can feel the heat of their entrance over here, and I’m not alone. All eyes in the lobby settle on them as they make their entrance, oblivious to anyone but me.
“Fuck,” I mutter as Orlando, Tavi, and Santo head straight for me.
Who the fuck did I fuck last night?
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” I say, giving them all my best shit-eating grin. They ain’t gonna say nothing when we’re in the middle of the lobby.
I… think.
“There he is.” Orlando, the third oldest and largest of the group, speaks first, in a low voice so others around us don’t hear. “Gone off the grid. Had our men nearly fuckin’ ready to look for your body, brother.”
A pang of guilt hits me in the chest. I don’t reply.
Tavi, the second oldest and second in command, eyes me coldly. He doesn’t forgive as easily as Orlando, more of a hard-ass in some ways. “You alright?” he asks quietly. I know immediately what he wants to know. Was I held under duress? Questioned by a rival?
I nod and swallow.
Santo, my adopted brother and married to my older sister Rosa, folds his arms across his chest and shakes his head at me. “Course he’s alright,” he mutters in his guttural voice. “His hair’s wet from a shower, his eyes are bleary, and he’s drinkin’ fuckin’ Starbucks. Only time he ever drinks that shit’s when he’s hungover.”
Oof. Touché, Santo. Leave it to him to note the finer details.
“Romeo’s gonna kick your ass,” Orlando says with a wince.
“Happy to help,” Santo growls. Tavi only shakes his head and comes closer to me.
“Seriously, Mario,” he says in a low voice. They flank my sides as we head to the exit. “You okay, man? Anyone fuck you up?”
I nod and swallow hard. “Got a little fucked up, man, but when I tell you what happened I’ll only sign my own fuckin’ death warrant.” I sigh. “Gotta get my car.”