Page 4 of Married to the Mafia Monster
TWO
Bella
Lily takes a sip of her drink. “Sorry, just explain that to me again. The hottest guy on the planet invites you to join him in the shower and you turn him down? No, don’t even turn him down, just walk away without another word?”
We’re in a dimly lit dive bar a block from The Dolphin. The air conditioner wheezes weakly, doing little to alleviate the sticky heat that clings to my skin.
“God, it’s like an oven in here,” I mutter, pressing the cold glass to my forehead as I ignore her question. I glance around, taking in the eclectic mix of patrons—a group of rowdy twenty-somethings playing pool in the back, a couple in the middle of a blazing argument, and a lone figure in the darkest corner, face hidden by the shadows.
Lily smirks, pushing a stray lock of chestnut hair behind her ear. “Nice deflection,” she quips, her voice laced with amusement.
“I didn’t turn him down. I just didn’t say yes.”
“And why didn’t you say yes?”
“Come on. He turned up two seconds after I’d spilled water all over my blouse and he stared at my tits. Said he’d seen bigger. Then he said he was jumping in the shower and I was welcome to join him. You seriously think I should have said yes?”
“I would have.”
“That’s you. I’m not having my first time be with a complete stranger who probably sleeps with a different girl every night of the week.”
“Look, take some advice from one who knows. When a gorgeous rich guy offers to soap you up in a shower, no strings attached, you accept. That never happens, trust me. I’ve been working here four years and the only proposition I’ve had is from Nigel. I’ve never once had a hot guy proposition me like that.”
“Come on, he clearly didn’t mean it. He was obviously just teasing me.”
“Well, you’ll never find out now, will you? I’d have been soaping him up before you could say sudsy balls.”
I manage a weak smile, grateful for her attempt to lighten the mood. “Oh look,” I reply, picking up the sticky menu from the table and scanning it half-heartedly. “The drinks in here are as cheap as you.”
Lily leans forward conspiratorially, her eyes glinting mischievously. “So, I went to your dad’s place earlier,” she says, lowering her voice as if sharing state secrets.
“You did what?”
“When I finished my shift, I went to have a look.”
“But how did you even know where it is?”
“Because I’m Sherlock Holmes.”
“Really?”
She grins. “Looked up your Dad’s name online and found the address. Took five minutes.”
I cringe, letting out a groan. “You promised not to go looking for him.”
“I didn’t. I went to see your place. Did not break my promise. Assumed he wouldn’t be there. Thought there might be some clues as to what this is all about.”
“And?” I ask, curious despite my fear for her safety. My mind drifts to my father, his whereabouts still unknown and the fear of what might have happened to him gnawing at my heart.
“All your stuff’s there but it looked like the place had been turned over. Everything was tossed on the floor. Right mess.”
“He was never the tidiest.”
“No, this was something else. Cushions ripped open, picture frames smashed.”
“Shit. Really?”
Lily’s eyes widen in sympathy, her hand tightening around mine. “Someone was looking for something,” she says, her voice gentle. “What the hell was your dad up to?”