I wave my hand in the air. “He’s an old man, Gino. Pain in my ass.” He is also a problem that needs taking care of, but that’s a job for another day.
Tonight, I’m here to cut off some steam and have fun.
“You fuck that girl, and he’ll hunt you down,” Moreno warns. He gestures the bartender over and gets himself a drink.
I raise an eyebrow. I haven’t seen Moreno drink in, well, since forever.
This is bad if he’s drinking. “Shit, I’m driving you to drink. It really must be the end of the world,” I mock.
He pinches the bridge of his crooked nose. He got that from defending my honor in a bar fight nearly two decades ago. I’d been young, naïve, and on the cusp of seventeen. I knew how to fight like a kid, not like a man.
Moreno rectified that. He taught me everything I know about the family business.
“Just promise me that you’ll leave her alone.” Moreno sips his whiskey.
It’s obvious to anyone who knows him he can’t stand the taste, but he drinks like a pro to an outsider.
“You don’t have to kill yourself for me,” I joke and point at the whiskey. “I’ll down that if you’re struggling.”
“Do you see me struggling?” Moreno asks.
“While you enjoy that whiskey, I’m going to work my moves on the dance floor.”
“Dante,” Moreno says my name, but his tone holds more than just a hint of warning.
He’s screaming at me to listen to him.
But when do I ever listen?
The funny thing is that I’m his boss, and I don’t take orders from Moreno or anyone else. While I appreciate his concern, that’s all it is to me, and I’m going to do whatever the hell I want.
Hasn’t he realized that yet?
I climb off the barstool and make my way onto the dance floor. I don’t dance. There’s no need.
I’m on a mission, and she is my target.
We lock eyes, and she blushes on my approach.
Good. She doesn’t seem to know me. At least she hasn’t indicated that I’m the bastard trying to kill her father.
“I’m here with friends,” she says like that line will work to shoo me away.
“Nice of them to ditch you,” I say.
She’s been dancing for the last forty or so minutes, alone. The handful of guys who tried to pick her up haven’t had any luck.
One of them looks at me apologetically.
I’ve yet to see her with a shot or drink in her hand, either.
“How do you know they’re not in the bathroom?” Nicole asks.
“If they are, they must have snuck out the window.”
She rolls her eyes. “Are you implying that I’m that boring?”
“On the contrary, I’m implying nothing, only that you’re a pretty woman dancing alone.”