Page 80 of Mafia And Maid
“Huh?”
“Yeah,” Marco agrees. “It makes you look like a serial killer. And it’s creepy as fuck.”
I scowl at them both. “You’re fucking with me, right?”
“No, we’re not,” Alessio adds with a straight face.
Breathing through my nostrils, I rub the back of my neck. I’m not a big smiler at the best of times, but my nerves in front of Ethan are making it difficult to even smile properly. I don’t want to fuck things up, but things really aren’t looking promising for me so far. “Okay, stop with the weird smiling. What else?”
“Quit with those jokes that aren’t even funny.”
“What jokes?”
“Like when you said that Mr. F is like a grizzly bear and steals everyone’s food. Ethan looked terrified at the prospect.”
“Oh, come on,” I say as I glare at them. “I was just trying to break the ice.”
“Do you want our fucking advice or not?” Marco growls.
“Okay. Fine. I’ll stop with the jokes. But what else…?”
“Play a game with the kid? Watch a movie? It’s not that hard.”
I bite back a groan. “It is that hard when the kid flinches every time something unexpected happens. I want him to like me, not to have a fucking heart attack each time I speak to him. It’s just not that easy with him.”
Marco considers what I’ve said. “What’s the kid actually like?”
“No clue.”
“So, find out, and go from there.”
“I know a few shows the kids watch all the time and don’t shut up about,” Alessio adds, his eyes lighting up with a soft smile. It’s not the hardened expression I know him to wear daily. It’s something else—a rare sight, and something that only appears when he’s talking about his wife and kids.
“You just need to find something to talk to him about,” Marco says.
I chew at the inside of my cheek as I rise from the chair. I don’t think that their advice is going to really help me. But none of their kids are what you’d call mousy, so maybe they’re the wrong people to ask.
“Need anything else?” Marco asks.
“Nope. That was it.”
They share a look, and I can’t quite figure out what it means. I don’t like it, but I don’t have the time to waste here.
“Don’t forget we have a meeting at the casino,” Marco reminds me.
“I know.”
“I’m serious,” he growls.
“I’ll be there.”
“On time.”
“Do you want me to set an alarm? Or maybe you’d like to follow me around all day to make sure? I’ll be there, don’t worry.” It’s important we all present a united front for today’s meeting at the casino. I’m not going to mess it up.
Marco nods, satisfied, and I fly out the door and down to the gym. My body is wound too tight to focus. I need to let out something before I explode. I’m too pent up and worried to be around anyone.
The sweat drips down me, clinging to the strands of my hair that hang in my face as I collapse onto the bench. I inhale sharply before pulling my phone from my pocket. My finger hovers over the name before I bite the bullet and push it down.