Page 77 of The Hitman
Giulio nods absently and strolls from the backroom.
I spend the rest of the afternoon thinking deeply about the threat I can see coming, but not clearly. Just before the restaurant opens again, I allow myself a few moments of respite, wondering where she is and what she’s doing.
The night falls, and I’m back at my small table, with another espresso, and the evening paper. I’ve spent my entire day doing nothing of any use besides being visible and keeping all of the attention on myself while my lieutenants get to slink around the city doing all of the activities that I used to love.
As soon as the waitress unlocks the front door, a woman rushes inside. I look up, and for a brief, beautiful moment, I think it’s her. From far away, it looks so much like Shae that my stomach flips, and my cock hardens in my pants. Under the restaurant’s lights, her skin is the same shade of light brown, her eyes look near enough the same, and her curly hair makes my fingers itch as I remember digging my hand into Shae’s and yanking her head back. God, and I remember the melodic sound of her moan. But it lasts only a moment because this woman is not Shae. She’s a little taller and slimmer at the waist. And when her eyes scan across the restaurant, they don’t stop at me.
“Table for one, ma’am?” the waitress asks.
“Actually, no, or maybe yes.”
She’s American, which makes it all the worse. I take my glasses from my face and watch the exchange, mostly because anything that deviates from my regular schedule is fascinating, especially if I don’t get shot in the process. Also, without my glasses, I can pretend that she’s Shae for a few more seconds. I can let myself imagine how I would feel if she walked through those doors again.
“I’m looking for a man,” she tells the waitress.
“Aren’t we all?”
The woman smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Okay, this is going to sound really crazy, I understand that, but I don’t have another option. So look, I’m here on vacation, and I met a man, and then he just disappeared.”
I put my glasses back on my face and look at her clearly.
The waitress is looking confusedly from the woman to the bartender and then to me. She’s new. I’ll have to tell her to not look at me in moments like this. Not everyone knows I own this restaurant, and I would like to keep it that way.
“Ma’am, this is a restaurant.”
“No, I know, I understand that. But he gave me the name of this restaurant and told me that if anything happened and we got separated that I should call a man named Salvatore at La Casa Colonica in Naples.”
The waitress looks at me again, and I realize that I’m going to have to fire her.
The woman follows the waitress’s line of sight, and her eyes land on me. “Are you Salvatore?”
“It depends. Who are you looking for?”
“Giulio.”
“And who are you to him?” I ask her.
“His wife?” Her voice lifts at the last word, turning what should be a declaration into a question. It’s incredibly endearing.
“I don’t believe he’s married. If he were, I’m certain he would have told me about it.”
“I’m also pregnant with his child,” she says desperately.
It’s a great lie. Well, no, it’s a terrible lie, and she’s a terrible liar, but in terms of making up a ridiculous story, it’s great; interesting. If I wanted something to break the monotony of my day, this girl is it. Her arrival isn’t as good as Shae turning my entire world upside down in an afternoon, and nothing would be better than her coming back to me, but this will do. For the moment, at least.
I can’t help but laugh softly and sit back in my chair. “And where did the two of you meet?” I ask her.
“In Milan,” she says.
“Milan is a big city. Where exactly did you meet?Whendid you meet?”
She straightens her back and peers down at me, pressing her lips closed.
Oh, I like her. And I bet Giulio did as well.
“That’s between my husband and I,” she says. I so badly want to laugh. “Do you know where he is or not?”
“Giulio is a very common name in Italy,” I inform her.