Page 49 of Dragonfly

It’s worth a shot. I know what my vet says to do, and I’d hoped that plenty of fresh water, a little less stress, and some time might fix him, but if she has an idea… why not?

Surprisingly, she does. And after Dr. Liz rattles off all the home remedies we can give Orion to help him out, I’m so thankful and amazed for her expertise, she laughs and admits that she grew up in a home that always had two or three cats. She’s firmly a people doctor, like I thought, but she had the necessary experience anyway.

That done, Genevieve begins to finish the phone call when, suddenly, Dr. Liz says, “Will I see you guys at Damien’s dinner next week?”

Huh?

“Of course,” his sister says quickly. “Because it’s being hosted in the private room at La Vita Vino, I get to go. You’ll be there, right?”

“I already have my dress picked out, and a note printed to put on the clinic door that we’re closed for the evening.”

“Awesome. See you then!”

“You, too, Genevieve. Oh, and Savannah? If you need any more help, please feel free to give me a call.”

Yeah. Maybe if I had any idea what happened to my phone, I might. “Sure.”

I think Genevieve realizes that, too. After she hangs up, she’s careful to tighten her grip on her phone as if sure I’m going to snatch it from her.

Not right now. I’m a little bit distracted by what the doctor and the dancer were talking about.

“So, uh… what dinner were you guys talking about?” I ask her.

“Damien’s fortieth birthday dinner. His birthday was last month, but we didn’t have enough time to make the arrangements. Though that’s a crock of shit if you ask me. I think he just didn’t want to admit he was the big four-oh. But he agreed to a dinner instead of a party, and we’re having it next Saturday.”

“Really?”

“Yup. But don’t worry about it. We’ve got plenty of time ‘til then.” Swooping down, picking the now-dozing Orion up before he can realize it’s Genevieve and not me, she starts to flounce toward the stairs. “Now, come on! Let’s see if the cook has any pumpkin.”

And because Damien’s younger sister runs off with my cat, I have no choice but to follow her.

For Orion, I remind myself. For Orion.

SEVENTEEN

SELFISH

DAMIEN

Another night at Il Sogno. Another steak dinner while ignoring Lincoln’s piss-poor mood. Only this time? He’s not the only one eager to get home to his wife.

I can tell almost immediately that he has news for me. Which makes sense. Our next meet wasn’t supposed to be until two weeks from now, and it’s Devil’s turn to host. So when he called me this morning and asked if I could get a reservation at Il Sogno because ‘they made a good steak’, I knew there was more to it than just meeting the terms of our truce.

Doesn’t mean he’s happy to be here. Just means that, if he did what I thought he did, I owe him a debt I’m sure he will be happy to call in one day.

The moment the waiter takes away our plates, and we both wave him off for dessert, Lincoln grabs something he kept tucked under his seat.

Watching me closely, he slides two folders onto the table.

One says Georgia Gayle. The other? Jimmy Winter.

“Which one do you want to look at first?’

Jimmy Winter. As a sign of good faith, when Lincoln arranged this meet, he let me know that Tanner finally came through. After weeks of research, he learned exactly who’s running the crew that uses a snowfall as a symbol.

As the head of a Family, I should want to know about the man behind the mysterious snowflake. But, fuck it. I’ve devoted fifteen years to building my mafia. I’ve poured blood—mine and others—sweat and tears into this life, and I’ve put the Dragonflies first time and time and time again. If not the Dragonflies, then the Libellulas.

Just once, why can’t I be completely selfish? Do something for me?

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