Marco pulled into a gas station near the hotel. “The tank’s almost empty.”
As he saw to the gas, Anni went to get out of the car.
“Where do you think you're going?” I asked, an edge to my voice.
“I’m going to get a coffee,” she announced. “Do you guys want anything?”
“There will be coffee at the brunch,” I snapped. She would probably take ages, and I just wanted to get the brunch over and done with so that we could go home to Chicago.
“I need some caffeine right now.”
“For fuck’s sake—”
Marco cut me off. “Get a couple of coffees for us too.”
I watched while my beautiful wife strolled into the gas station, her blonde hair loose and shining in the sun.
As soon as Anni was out of earshot, Marco turned to me. “What the hell is wrong with you this morning?”
“I just want to get this brunch out of the way and get back to work.”
“Youhavegot blood on the bedsheets, right?” Marco was deadly serious. This tradition was non-negotiable. “I don’t care whose blood it is, Lorenzo, as long as there is something passable on the sheets.” Marco was shrewd. He could tell by the tension between Anni and me that all had perhaps not gone to plan on our wedding night.
“I've got the blood,” I gritted out.
After the tank had been filled and paid for, Marco got back in the driver’s seat. I drummed my fingers on the dashboard as I watched Anni finally come back, carrying a cardboard tray containing three takeaway cups of coffee.
She passed me the tray through my open window and then got into the backseat of the car.
I looked over my shoulder to see if she was buckled in and ready for me to pass over her coffee.
But then I saw her hand reach inside her blue jacket.
What the fuck?
My hand shot to my gun. I pulled it out, twisting rapidly in my seat and aiming it at her.
“What the hell are you doing, man?” growled Marco.
Anni’s hand was frozen inside her jacket. “Yes, what are you doing,dear husband?”
“She’s got a weapon.” I kept my eyes and revolver trained on her. “She was just about to pull it on us.”
Marco’s eyebrows shot up.
“Slowly move your hands where I can see them,” I gritted out. “Any sudden movements, I’ll shoot.”
She slowly withdrew her hand as Marco and I watched her. And in her hand were…
…three chocolate brownies.
They were pre-packed in cellophane. I noticed then that her jacket had no pockets on the outside, although there must have been an inside pocket. She must have put the brownies in her pocket as her hands had been full with the coffee…
Marco looked at me like I was a complete idiot.
“Why the fuck did you buy brownies if we’re on our way to brunch?” I muttered.
“I’m hungry, and I don’t know how long it will be until we get to eat—you know, because everyone will be quizzing me about last night. Anyway, I love brownies, and these are the best brownies on Staten Island, and who knows when I'll get another chance to eat them.”