Page 68 of Pretty Poison

She releases an exasperated sigh and types on her computer. “You’re the first here. You can wait at your table.” I open my mouth to speak, but she glances up at me, an evil glare in her eyes. “Last table at the back on the right-hand side. I’m sure your friend will be here shortly.”

I nod and venture through the crowd of tables. It feels like every single pair of eyes is on me and the hushed conversations that follow make my skin crawl.

Finally reaching my destination, I slide onto the leather bench-like chair against the wall to allow me to see Anabel enter. I already feel on edge, like something isn’t right, but I know it’s all in my head. I’ve been making up excuses as to why I shouldn’t be here; I need to relax.

A few minutes tick by and I retract my phone from my purse, pulling up the most recent messages between Anabel and I.

I type a new one:

Me: I’m here. Are you close?

About a minute passes and the three grey dots appear, followed by her response.

Anabel: I’m going to be a bit late, but my boyfriend will be there before me.

My eyes narrow at her words. I didn’t even realise she had a boyfriend or that he was joining us for lunch, but I’m glad she’s invited him.

Anabel: I’ll be about ten minutes, so play nice.

I laugh, pocketing my phone again.

My eyes fall onto the entrance as a tall man enters. His tattoo-covered arms stretch the fabric of his black T-shirt, a biker’s helmet beneath his arm. Within a few seconds, he’s inching towards me and offers a small wave with the hand beneath his helmet.

“Liana, right?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. I nod. “Vittorio,” he says, swapping the helmet to his other arm and offering his hand for me to shake.

With a small smile, I take his hand and shake it with a loose grip.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, displaying a hand to the bench opposite me.

“Please,” I say a little too eagerly. As he sits, he places his helmet beside the booth and drags a menu closer to him. “Do you want anything to drink?” he queries, his finger tracing the words on the menu.

“A coke,” I say. “I’ll pay.”

“Nonsense,” he replies, glancing up at me. “Anabel set this up. This is on me.”

I want to argue, but I don’t. Instead, I nod while offering a warm smile and ask, “When did you two meet?”

“It’s a… recent thing, nothing serious,” he says, waving over one of the hostesses. “But I do have a soft spot for her, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.” With the waitress at our table, she takes our order and leaves without so much as a glance in my direction. Her entire focus is on him, his tattoos and his build.

He’s attractive, and months ago I would’ve been drawn to him. But since Dario came into my life, no man can compare. He’s what I’d been looking for, and I hadn’t realised it, but now I do.

“I wasn’t trying to—”

“I know what you see when you look at me and my tattoos, Liana. It’s okay to want something good for your friend.”

“Are you a good man?” I ask, flicking through the food menu.

“I’ve done some things in my past that I’m not proud of, but I would never raise a finger to her in a way to harm her.” He offers me a small smile as he follows my actions, his fingers tracing along the words again.

“I’m gonna run to the ladies’ room,” I say, rising to my feet. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Sure, take your time.”

I grab my purse and make my way back to the hostess stand to ask for directions when I see the sign clear as day. As someone walks through the entrance again, the chilly breeze hits my ankles and I shudder, quickening my pace until I reach the women’s bathroom.

I have nothing against Vittorio—hell, I know nothing about him—but there’s something about him that doesn’t sit right with me. He’s very well spoken, has a gentle look about him if youdisregard the tattoos and large build, and seems to care about Anabel. I just can’t seem to put my finger on what’s giving me this strange feeling.

After a few minutes in the bathroom, I retreat back to the table and find an array of food already there with Vittorio digging in.

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