Suddenly he turned his head a fraction, like he could hear us. I held my breath — without knowing why — and squeezed Ursula’s arm, but she didn’t notice because she was too busy trying not to drool. And then he was engrossed again. It was as though he’d needed a breather from the intensity of his discussion; now that he had taken it, he was back in. And so was Luca. Their mouths sped up and their gestures became more expressive.
“It’s hard to look away,” Ursula teased, undeterred by the mounting anger in their conversation. “And just look at those eyes. Where are they from?”
“Heaven?” I guessed, and we both laughed. They were so exotic, so different from anyone I had ever seen around Cedar Hill.
“Do angels eat?”
That’s when I remembered I had completely forgotten to take their order. I slid around the counter and scurried back over. “What can I get you?” I grabbed the pad from my apron and flicked it open, ripping the bottom of the sheet.
Luca looked alarmed by my interruption, like he had forgotten where they were. He opened his menu again, scanned it for five seconds, and pulled back with a frown. “A coffee. Black. Strong.”
He gestured at Nic.
“I’ll have the steak sandwich, rare, with fries. And a glass of milk,” Nic said finally, before shutting his menu and shifting his gaze back to me, “please.”
“Is that everything?” I held eye contact with him, feeling my lips twitch into a shy smile.
“Cazzo, that is all!” Luca hissed into the space between us.
By now, I was used to dealing with difficult customers, but Luca’s attitude was unparalleled, and I found myself losing my temper quicker than I normally would have. “I’m sorry, but is my presence in the place where I work offending you? Because you don’t have to stay here.”
He threw me a contemptuous stare, and I held it.
“Just don’t spit in my coffee.”
I bit my tongue and left them again.
After I passed the order through to Kenny in the kitchen, I joined Ursula, who was cleaning up after Erin and Co. We busied ourselves wiping down the remaining tables and sweeping the floor as the minutes dragged by. When I served Nic his steak, I caught sight of the beginning of a tattoo above the neckline at the back of his T-shirt, then spent the following ten minutes behind the counter figuring it was probably the top of a large, ornate cross.
Five minutes before closing time, when I was balancing the books for the night, Luca’s phone rang, and he got up and left abruptly.
Nic approached the counter timidly, like he was walking into open gunfire. That same uncomfortable flicker of recognition stirred inside me but I pushed it away. Get a grip.
“Sorry about my brother.” He swatted his arm at something behind him. “We think he was dropped on his head as a baby … several hundred times.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so inquisitive,” I noted. It was the only non-negative thing I could think to say about Luca.
Nic jerked his head, like there was a bee buzzing in his ear. Maybe that’s how he thought of his brother. “I guess I’m just used to it by now. Don’t let him unnerve you.”
“He didn’t.”
“You don’t find Luca intimidating?”
I shook my head.
Nic’s gaze adopted a sudden fierce intensity, and I was instantly hyperaware of how loud my heartbeat was.
“Good,” he murmured.
“He’s definitely weird, though,” I added as an afterthought. “And unbelievably rude.”
“We should bring him here more often so you can keep him in line.” Nic produced a black credit card that gleamed with a level of affluence I could only dream about, and handed it to me. Suddenly every part of me was standing at attention, and I wondered if he knew it. He was probably used to having this effect on girls.
“So when did you move in?” I asked, trying to keep focused.
“Last week.” Then I couldn’t possibly have known him. My mind was playing tricks on me. Nic gestured behind him in the direction of the old house with a casualness that implied it was one of many sprawling mansions frequented by his family. Not that that surprised me; he had a certain look about him, the look of a wealthy kid who could afford European vacations and Aspen ski retreats. He had the kind of bloodline that stretched beyond somewhere as ordinary as Cedar Hill. “But you probably already know that, since you were spying on our house.”
I felt my cheeks reignite. “I was not spying on your house!”
His smile grew. “Sure seemed that way.”
I slid the credit card machine toward him and waited as he entered his PIN code. My gaze fell on the knuckles of his right hand, which were covered in pooling purple bruises and deep red gashes.
“What happened to your hand?” I asked, startled by the horror in my own voice. It was unpleasant to look at, and I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t flinching in pain.
Nic pulled his hand away from the machine and stared at it in surprise. “Oh,” he said slowly, rotating his wrist and studying the injury.
The mechanical printing of the receipt filled the silence.
“Are you OK?”
“I’m fine.”
I got the sense I had upset him. I ripped off the receipt and gave it to him, and this time he took it with his other hand.
“I didn’t mean to pry …”
“No, of course not.” Nic cleared his throat. “I had just forgotten about it, that’s all. I got locked out the other day and I had to punch in a boarded-up window at the back of our house to get in. The perks of moving and all that …”
“It looks painful,” I said, doing my best impression of Captain Obvious.
Nic shook his head a little. “I’ve had worse.”
I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, and before I could think of a reply, he was turning from me.
“I should probably go, Sophie.”
“Good-bye,” I offered.
“Maybe I’ll see you soon?” he called over his shoulder.
“As long as you don’t try and kill me again.”
“I’ll try not to, but you’re certainly more than welcome to come back and stalk my house.” He winked, the lightness in his voice back again.
“I wasn’t stalking it!”
“Buona notte, Sophie.”