Page 66 of Kingpin

He still had me in his clutches.

I wanted him just as much as before.

“That apron looks good on you,” he said.

I giggled. “Now you’re trying to fluster me, aren’t you?”

“Depends. Is it working?”

I sighed. “It always works, and you know it.”

“Nice to know some things don’t change with names, then.”

Guilt rolled over my body. I lost my appetite at those words. I knew, from the tone of his voice, that he was trying to joke around. But I hadn’t yet forgiven myself.

“Sauce is ready,” I said.

“Bonnie, I didn’t mean t—”

I held up my hand. “The sauce is ready. Let me get the table set, and then we can eat.”

“Let me help. What can I do?”

I turned around at those words and looked up at him with a dumbfounded stare. Had the man just offered to help me? He walked over with a shit-eating grin on his face and reached for the oven. He moved me off to the side and opened it up, releasing the most amazing aroma into the room.

“Oh, this bread won’t last past tonight,” he murmured.

Then, he reached for some oven mitts and pulled the loaf of bread from the oven.

The two of us danced around one another while we set the table. I popped open another bottle of wine as he grabbed two glasses. I poured until they were full. So full that we each had to sip the tops of our wine just to make sure we could carry them without spilling. Israel kept chuckling at me, and the only thing that sound did was warm my thighs.

When I sat down at the kitchen table, I sat down in a dampness of my own doing.

“I’d like to ask you some questions to read your reactions. Is that okay?” Israel asked.

I snickered. “Do you usually warn people with something like that before you start?”

“No. I’m trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. But if you’d like me to stop…”

I poured the sauce over my noodles. “Sure. Go ahead. I’m all yours.”

He leaned back into his chair. “Are you still angry at your uncle?”

I shook my head. “What a bullshit question.”

“Answer it, Bonnie.”

My eyes snapped up to his. “Of course, I’m still pissed at him.”

“Okay. Did you really transfer that money into your account today?”

“Some of it went into that investment account I showed you. But yes. All of it got transferred out of that account today and dumped into one under my actual name that Pava can’t touch.”

He nodded slowly. “Do you miss your parents?”

I blinked. “More and more every day.”

“Have you always been capable of lying for long periods? Like you did with me?”

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