Page 38 of Bitter Poetry
I follow, grinning. Maybe Carmela-watching duty won’t be so bad after all.
I catch up with her as she reaches the car, ducking ahead to open the door for her. My cheek is still stinging. I fucking love the wayher eyes slide there before she scowls at me and flounces into the vehicle.
I get in the front beside Davide.
We drive to Le Petit Café.where Davide drops us off. I go inside with Carmela and Jessica. Tony, the proprietor, makes a big fuss over them, giving his condolences and making all the right noises.
They select a seat by the window. I find a high stool against the small counter, where I can watch her and ensure she doesn’t fraternize with anyone in a way that would break Ettore’s rules.
“How’s business?” Tony asks.
“Same old,” I reply.
The girls drink coffee and eat their pastries.
Carmela informs me she is ready to go without meeting my eyes.
I call Davide. He’s only a minute away so we step outside to wait.
“I overheard Ettore telling Jero how you and Carmela hate one another,” Jessica announces gleefully. “That’s why he wants you to be her bodyguard. Because he’s a dick.”
“Jessica!” Carmela’s voice must raise an octave. Her face is flushed again.
“What? Ettore is a dick,” Jessica continues, turning to her sister. “You said so yourself only yesterday.”
I snort a laugh. Poor Carmela looks ready to faint. “You’re a nosy little sprite. What else did you pick up?”
“Nothing. You won’t tell him I called him a dick.” There is a note of challenge in her voice.
Fuck, this kid is hilarious. She has a mouth on her, for sure, and natural talents when it comes to snooping.
“You’re right. I won’t tell him. I’m just the bodyguard. We don’t hear a damn thing. First rule of the job.”
Jessica grins, pleased with herself.
I grin for different reasons. So that’s why Ettore put me on Carmela? He thinks I hate her, which I suppose is true. But he also thinks she’s safe with me… that I don’t want to fuck her.
And that would be his third mistake.
CARMELA
I’m deeply unsettled when I return home. The trip to the coffee shop was supposed to give us some breathing space from Helena, her sniping, and her renovation plans—time spent with my sister doing something normal.
Only Christian was there.
And Dante is gone.
My heart hurts and my head aches.
On the plus side, Jessica sees Christian as her damn kindred spirit and was the most animated I’ve seen her in a while. I hate to admit it, but he’s good with her and doesn’t treat her like a child. I also get a strong impression he’s not going to go running back to Ettore and report all the questionable things she says, which is a relief.
“Carmela-watching was not my decision, babe.”
Babe? Really? Does the man come with a sixth sense that tells him how to infuriate me?
And why the hell did I get so flustered? It’s not like I like him. I detest him, even if he looks ridiculously good in a suit.
“You’re blushing,” Jessica says, knowingly.
