And I guess...he's now explaining to me what's about to be our conjugal assets?
"But in a couple of minutes, we'll be taking the interstate and heading to Providence."
He looks at me like he's expecting me to say something, and so I say...
"That's in Rhode Island, right?"
Cesare relaxes. "Essato."
"And, um—-"
I feel like I'm acting like a goody-two-shoes student eagerly aiming to be some teacher's pet, but...I just can't seem to help myself.
"Providence is about an hour's drive away, isn't it?"
"Sì." Approval underscores his tone, and I'm now absolutely certain of two things: geographydoesmean huge tofamiglia,and yes, I reallyamacting like I want to be this man's pet.
"You understand then,tesoro? What that one hour means?"
Since he looks slightly perturbed, I'm guessing he doesn't want me to be bored during the drive?
"You don't have to worry about me—-"
"I will always worry about you, Penelope."
A faint smile curves over his lip when he sees me blush, and I mentallyswoonwhen Cesare takes my hand and presses a quick, feather-soft kiss to my knuckles.
Boy, oh boy.
Cesare only smiles every time he catches me stealing looks at him, but as embarrassed as I am, it's simply another thing I'm unable to control.
He's just too beautiful and hot to be real, and it feels even more incredible when I remember Cesare telling me every inch of him ismine.
With my head in the clouds the entire ride, it's only when Cesare's car finally backs into a parking slot that hunger pangs hit my stomach, and I belatedly remember that we have yet to have breakfast.
Cesare helps me out of the car, and I tell myself I need to be patient andnotask him about what he has planned. It seems like he wants our date to be a surprise—-shit.
I know I'm doomed to starve a little while longer the moment Cesare leads me up the entrance steps of a high-rise building, and a guard holding an honest-to-goodnessmachine gungreets him with the kind of deference that only someone who's alsofamigliacan show.
I wish I could convince myself there's a Jollibee waiting and ready to feed us inside, but this place screams'mafia-exclusive'any way you look at it, and I'm not even surprised when security has their dogs sniff circles around our bodies for explosives before clearing us for entry.
The first set of heavily-tinted doors slides open, but this only allows us inside an empty antechamber of sorts, with what looks like a concierge counter adjacent to another set of doors made of bulletproof glass.
"Buongiorno, signore, signorina."
The man behind the counter looks like Abraham Lincoln...if our former president ever opted for a mohawk and a nose ring
"Regular or extra,SignorMarchetti?"
"Regular would do, Cassio."
I tug at Cesare's sleeve as the other man turns away. "Please tell me he's offering complimentary coffee?" The concierge comes back just as I finish speaking, and he immediately starts coughing as he places a small metal box on the counter.
Why is this guy laughing at me?
Is everyone here so loaded that they don't care for—-oh.
All I can do is gape as Cesare starts loading the box with two handguns, three pocket knives of varying lengths, and...do I even want to know why he needs a pair of handcuffs when he isn't a cop?