Page 21 of The Broker
Your glasses are adorable.
Your hair makes me smile.
My phone rings, startling me from my thoughts. It’s Leo. “I’m going to bring Angelica over.”
Shit.Angelica. I’m a terrible mother. For a minute there, I almost forgot about my kid. But she’s the priority. She’s been the priority from the day the nurse placed her in my arms, all red and wrinkly and screaming in outrage.
“Valentina?” Leo prompts. “Ten minutes, okay?”
Dante and I were supposed to pick Angelica up from Antonio’s place before he left so suddenly. If Leo’s curious about the change in plans, his voice doesn’t show it.
“Yeah, that’s good.” I give myself a mental shake. It doesn’t matter that when he smiled at me, it felt like the sun had emerged from behind a massive cloud. What matters is that Angelica is going to be here soon, and she’s going to be hungry. I better find some food.
As promised, ten minutes later, Leo knocks on the door. I check the security camera in the kitchen and head downstairs—so many stairs—to open the front door. “Hey there, squirt.”
“Hey, Mama.” Without prompting, she turns to Leo. “Thank you for bringing me, Uncle Leo.”
Leo’s expression softens from his default scowl. “You’re welcome, Angelica.” He waits until my daughter enters the house, and then he frowns at me in disapproval. “You opened the front door, just like that?”
“I’m not an idiot, Leo. I checked the security camera first.”
He grunts. “Better than nothing. Next time, wait for me to call with the code phrase.”
Are we in a spy movie? Leo’s paranoia is only matched by Dante’s. No wonder the two of them get along so well. “Will do,” I say to placate him. “Want to come in for dinner?”
He sniffs the air. “You’re making pasta sauce?” he asks. “Needs some garlic, if you ask me.”
My cheeks heat. Did I deliberately omit the garlic? Yes, I did. Damn Leo’s nose. “Are you a restaurant critic?” I demand, going on the offensive to cover my embarrassment. “You want food or not?”
“No, I have plans.” He gives me a knowing look. “And so do you, from the smell of things. See you later, Valentina. Remember, no going out alone. No quick trips to the corner store, nothing. This is serious.”
I’m well aware of the gravity of the situation. I wouldn’t have moved into Dante’s place if I hadn’t been convinced the threat was real. “Trust me, I’m taking no chances with our security.”
I head in search of Angelica once Leo leaves. She’s in her bedroom, sitting on the floor, Legos all around her. So much for the clean carpet. “Hey, kid. How did the cake turn out?”
“It was delicious,” she announces. “I ate two slices.”
“Did you now?” I ask wryly. “Taking full advantage of the fact that I wasn’t there to stop you? You’ll have to eat some vegetables to counter all that sugar.”
She looks up, a calculating expression on her face. “No zucchini.”
I have to laugh. Angelica will eat almost anything, but she hates zucchini with the passion of a thousand suns. It doesn’t matter if it’s steamed or grilled—it’s the one thing she refuses to eat. “No zucchini,” I agree. “Spinach or broccoli?”
I knew Dante didn’t cook, so I wasn’t expecting much by way of ingredients when I opened his refrigerator. But to my shock, it was filled with meat and produce. I have no idea how he arranged a grocery drop-off, but he did. I don’t know why I’m surprised. Dante is competent in everything he does. It’s maddening, really.
“Broccoli,” she replies instantly.
“Broccoli it is. Oh, I almost forgot. I packed a suitcase for you. Dante put it in my room. Let me grab it.”
“Did you pack Diny?”
Diny—rhymes with tiny—is a twelve-inch-tall velociraptor dressed improbably in a pink tutu. Over the last couple of years, Angelica has abandoned most of her soft toys, but so far, Diny has survived the purge.
“Yup, Diny’s in there.” I fetch the suitcase and place it on her bed. “Can you unpack while I finish dinner?”
“Sure.”
“Before more Legos, Angelica.”