“She’s messing with you. We actually know them,” Brianna said as all the fine hairs on her arm stood on end in long-dormant jealousy she didn’t like at all. “She’s Tino’s sister.”
“No kidding?” The waitress stared at Carina in surprise, her light eyes narrowing critically. “You do look like the other one. What’s his name? He stops by sometimes and—”
Brianna laughed. “Nova?”
“That’s him,” the waitress agreed as she looked at Carina again. “I can see the family resemblance.”
“Annoying,” Carina mumbled under her breath as she went back to looking at her menu. “Yeah, I want the fried-chicken-biscuits-gravy thing that’s the special. I need it after that.”
“I want grilled chicken,” Brianna said as she handed the menu back. “With a side salad. Olive oil and vinegar is fine. Lemon if you have it.”
“Do you want mashed potatoes with your chicken?”
“What’s your vegetable?” Brianna asked with a wince.
The waitress raised her eyebrows. “Mashed potatoes.”
“That’s fine,” Carina answered for her as she handed her menu back too. “I would hate my life if I had to eat like you.”
“Well, when I get a Moretti metabolism, I’ll let you know,” Brianna huffed. “Besides, I like salad.”
“Weird.” Carina went back to playing with her silverware. “How cool is this town, though? Everyone knows everyone. Like outta a movie. She knew right away that we weren’t from here, ’cause she knows everyone who lives here.”
“Maybe she knew ’cause we look completely out of place,” Brianna suggested with a laugh.
“She knows Tino. And Romeo.”
“Romeo’s famous. Most of New York knew him too,” Brianna said with a pointed look. “And Tino’s still Tino.” She looked away and mumbled under her breath, “Obviously.”
“You’re married. Bri, you didn’t expect—”
“What if he has a girlfriend?” Brianna burst out with her darkest terror. “There’s no reason for him not to have a girlfriend and—”
“I talk to him all the time. He does not have a girlfriend. I would know.”
“What if he didn’t want to tell you?” Brianna pressed, feeling her cheeks heat with the clash of fear and embarrassment. “What if—”
“Look, he’s Tino. He’s been around since you broke up. You both went to extreme measures to stay away from each other, but—”
“He’s got a girlfriend,” Brianna whispered miserably. “And we’re gonna show up here and ruin his life.”
“He doesn’t have a girlfriend,” Carina assured her. “I promise.”
Promise or not, Brianna ended up eating half of Carina’s fried chicken out of nerves. It did taste fantastic and was certainly more enjoyable than any sex she’d had in the past few years.
Tino really had been such a long time ago, a different life, hazed in the smoky glow of nightclubs and the hot, sticky press of bodies colliding in the dark. Their love had been wild, unpredictable, and so unbelievably raw and sensual it would likely never stop haunting her.
Together, they were like a firework.
Beautiful in the night.
A dusty smear of ash in the morning when reality crashed in and ruined the high. They just weren’t ever meant to be more than one brief, amazing explosion of memories that should’ve been enough to sustain them.
But it hadn’t been.
Not even close.
Now she and Carina were using the GPS to try and find a gym called the Cuthouse Cellar, where Tino was supposed to be attending a wedding party, ’cause nothing said romance like Cuthouse Cellar.
“They’re so helpful here. Not only did she know him, but she knew right where he was,” Carina observed as she turned left at the GPS’s urging. “With any luck, I won’t have to see Romeo at all.”
“Helpful? Is that what we’re calling it?” Brianna asked, realizing life had officially made her paranoid. “It doesn’t bother you that she just pointed us right to where Tino was? What if we were with the Borgata? What if we were another Borgata? What if we were one of the thousand guys who has a vendetta against Tino?”
“Tino can take care of himself,” Carina said in the way most Cosa Nostra family members did to protect themselves from the knowledge that danger was everywhere—for everyone.
Anyone could fall prey to a bullet.
Denial was just something they’d been trained with since birth.
Brianna was close; she’d been around it far too long, but the protection mechanisms hadn’t been ingrained like they were with Carina.
“Wow, this is a fucking gym right here,” Carina said as she turned into the large parking lot of the Cuthouse Cellar. “Look at the size of this place. Damn, they don’t half-ass things in Kentucky.”
“Yeah,” Brianna whispered, not really paying attention because her stomach was leaden with anxiety. “This is a mistake. I cannot just show up here and jack up his life. I think I’m gonna puke.” Brianna dropped her head to her knees. “How do I let you talk me into these things? My entire life is a series of bad decisions, and I think a large portion of them are mostly your fault.”