Page 33 of Shattered Veil
“You sound like you have experience with this.” I clear my throat. “Did you have another girlfriend who—”
“No. I never had a girlfriend.” He rolls his eyes. “Second grade. Maybe. She never answered my note.”
I snort into my hand. “Thank you for making me laugh.”
“I’m serious. Your father told you who I am. Who my family is. We respect women.”
“He also said you’re loyal to those who offer their loyalty in return.”
“That’s correct. Will you be loyal?” he asks quickly, but bites back a frown.
“I’ll be loyal. In every way.” My hand reaches for his leg, but he grabs it.
“Ella... It’s not that I don’t want to fuck you again because I do.” Shockingly, he presses my hand on his groin. “Feel that? That’s how much I want you.”
“I’m not looking for a relationship. Especially now,” I say. “I’m only twenty-seven.”
“I told you I only...”
“...screw escorts. Got it.” I sit back and pick up my water glass.
“ThatandI’m your boss.” With a final once-over, he slides away and doesn’t touch me for the rest of the night.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ella
Hannah and I stroll through Central Park Sunday morning with steaming lattes in hand.
“Everyone at the Warwick is excited about the owner’s wedding. Even if that’s breaking many hearts.” Hannah, who’s a housekeeping manager for the swanky hotel, sips her drink.
She manages the corporate executive floor at the Warwick, where she pulls in a grand a week in tips alone.
I stifle a brief sting of jealousy. I miss working at Fredricks Elementary in Manhattan, which is close to Dad’s apartment. Now I have to commute to Astoria, Queens and work in a command center. I don’t even know where Astoria is.
“Sounds like you have a crush on the hotel owner,” I say, wanting some solidarity with an inappropriate relationship.
Hannah’s face contorts. “Are you kidding? He’s mafia. I wouldn’t touch that with a ten-foot pole.” The word mafia falls off her lips with disdain but oh, so effortlessly.
My father whispered it likeVoldemort. They who shall not be named.
“Not all mafia is bad,” I say, dreading telling her about my new job.
“They kill people,” Hannah shrieks.
“Some people deserve it.”
Hannah stops walking and stares at me.“What?”
The look of disgust in her eyes changes my mind about my dad’s hesitancy to speak the unmentionable. Hannah is my best friend, but in this instance, loyalty to Balor and his family rings louder. “Never mind. I am dying to tell you something, though.”
“Oh my God, what is it? Is it Wes?” Panic hardens herfeatures.
“No! The hot guy. From the plane.”
Her mouth forms a little O. “He called you?”
I don’t want to point out that he didn’t have my number because he didn’t ask for it since he never planned to see me again. Only...now I know he left mehisnumber, which I’ve been meaning to fish out of the envelope, but it’s buried in my closet.