Page 36 of Mafia and Gold Digger

I give him a curt nod and then look at the messages on my phone. I have no desire to engage in conversation with him.

And as predicted, after a few minutes, Domenico tires of waiting for Emerald to finish my order. “See you around, Emerald,” he calls with a wave. Guys like that get bored as soon as they’re not getting any attention.

She gives him a nod before she carries on with my order.

I don’t know why, but Emerald feels like a mystery to me, and her opaqueness is utterly infuriating. She’s like a conundrum. I want to know every thought that runs through her mind, every reason for each of her actions, and every single little thing that makes her heart beat faster.

As I wait, my gaze falls on the vase of red roses on the bar top. My fingers itch to rip away the petals.Red roses, velvety petals, sharp thorns…

She puts my drink down in front of me, shaking me from my thoughts. “Here’s your drink. And keep your paws off the roses this time please.”

I watch her walk over to her colleague. “I’m going on my break,” she says, and with that, she grabs her bag from under the bar and heads outside.

After a few minutes, I decide I need a smoke and head out to the smoking area.

Emerald barely spares me a glance as I stand next to her.

I hope she’s not still upset about Ronnie. “You know, you shouldn’t waste your time mourning over that dumbass.”

“I’m not,” she clips.

“Look, I’m just saying that he’s not worth it and?—”

But before I can say anything else, she grabs a book from the bag over her shoulder and slams it into my chest. I take it from her, look at the cover, and read the title out aloud. “How To Ditch That Loser And Live A Life That Leaves Him Behind.”

And I can’t help a smile—a real smile. And I’m even slightly impressed.

“I’m not mourning him, so you don’t need to worry about me.”

I smoke in silence for a couple of minutes while she checks her phone.

“So,” I say slowly, “I was thinking, maybe I could take you out for a drink sometime?”

A few seconds pass as she exhales slowly. “I don’t think so.”

I’m about to smirk when I freeze. “Wait!What did you just say?”

“I said no.”

“But nobody ever says no to me,” I bluster.

She smiles at me. “I've got three golden rules in life. Rule one, never date a cop.”

“Yeah, but you know now that I’m not a cop,” I clip.

“Doesn’t matter because rule two still applies.”

“Rule two?”

“Yeah. Rule two, never date a made man.”

“You dated Ronnie,” I grit out.

“Two is a relatively new rule that I made post-Ronnie,” she says with a shrug.

“Oh, come on. I see ‘assassin’ as being more my job title than ‘made man.’ Surely, rule two doesn’t apply to me?—”

“And rule three,” she interrupts. “Never date a liar.”

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