Page 24 of Tilly
“Matilda, you okay?” he asks.
Am I okay? Is he serious right now?
“Considering I’m not the one who’s been MIA for the last twenty-four hours, I should be the one asking you that.” I try to keep the annoyance out of my tone. I’m not too sure it worked though.
Antonio sighs into the phone. “I’m sorry. Something came up and I had to deal with it.”
“It’s okay. You don’t owe me any explanations, Antonio. I just wanted to know that you were still alive. And now I know.”
“Yes, I do. I owe you a lot. I owe you everything. I should have called or messaged. I was an ass. And I’m sorry,” he says.
“Okay.”
“Tilly?” a familiar voice calls out.
“Yeah?” I look around the coffee shop, spot my cousin, and wave him over. Then I return my attention to Antonio. “I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later,” I tell him, cutting the call just as Enzo lowers himself onto the chair opposite me.
“You’ll talk to who later?” Enzo asks.
“No one,” I say, before quickly tucking my phone into my pocket. “What was so important you couldn’t just call me?”
My cousin sent me a message this morning insisting we meet for lunch.
“I need you to come to a party with me,” Enzo says.
“Me?” I point to my chest and glance around again. Surely I’m being punked. “Why? You know I don’t go to college parties.”
“I know, but I was hoping you’d make an exception for your favorite cousin.” He grins.
I frown at him. “Orlando’s going to be there? Isn’t he a bit young for college parties?” I deadpan.
Enzo just raises his brows at me. “Come on, Tilly. I need your help.”
“Why me? And for what, exactly?” I question him.
“There’s this girl…” he starts, and I laugh, stopping when he glares at me. “Anyway, there’s this girl and she won’t give me the time of day. But I know she wants me because, well…” He waves a hand down his torso.
I gag. “Since when do you need help getting laid?”
“I don’t. I need help getting her to realize that I’m not going to wait around forever and she needs to make up her damn mind. Which is where you come in. She doesn’t know you and she doesn’t know you’re my cousin. So I’m thinking we walk in together. She gets jealous, realizes that she’s passing up on a good thing. And just like that, the rest is history.” He snaps his fingers for effect.
I honestly cannot believe what I’m hearing right now. “Yeah, that’s not going to work, but I’ll come with you for nothing more than to see this whole thing blow up in your face,” I tell him, glancing to my right when another chair at the table is pulled out and a body fills it.
“Matilda Valentino, you’re a hard girl to find,” Emillio says.
My eyes widen as I look from Antonio’s brother to my cousin, who does not look happy to see a Gambino sitting down at our table like we’re old friends.
“No,” Enzo practically growls out. “Fuck no,” he repeats, pointing at Emillio, who just smirks back at him.
“It’s not…” My words die off when my cousin directs that feral glare my way.
“Matilda, no. Just all kinds of fucking no. Are you kidding me right now? Him?” He points at Emillio again and shakes his head.
I roll my eyes. “He’s just a friend.”
“What kind of friend?” Enzo asks.
“The friend kind of friend. The platonic kind of friend,” I attempt to clarify.
