Page 31 of Unrelenting
“It’s just a soda water,” he says quickly, pointing to his glass. “And I paid for it, even though Ms. Lazaro said it was on the house.”
The other good thing about Daniele is that he’s terrified of me. He’s a decent fighter, brave when facing down our enemies, but he crumbles in my presence. That means the chances of him trying anything with Lucia are practically zero.
“You can leave. I’ll take care of Ms. Lazaro tonight.”
“Thank you,Lorenzo.”
He scurries out of the restaurant as if his tail is on fire while I settle myself at the bar.
“What can I get you?” Francesco asks. He’s young, probably no more than twenty-one, and I’ve heard the serving staffgushing over his handsome face more than once. If he wasn’t already married with two children and clearly devoted to his family, I might view him as a threat.
“Just your boss.” Although there’s nothing to stop me walking into the kitchen to see Lucia for myself, I don’t want to encroach on her sacred space.
She never told me straight that she doesn’t want me in there, but whenever I went in to compliment her on the food, I could tell she was irritated by my presence.
Francesco nods and disappears into the kitchen. A minute later, Lucia emerges, her white chef’s jacket stained with a mix of red wine and some sort of gravy.
“Lorenzo,” she acknowledges me with a smile. It’s a nice change to see her openly showing she’s pleased to see me. “I wondered if I’d see you tonight.”
So, she’s been thinking about me. I like that.
“Can you finish up now?” I ask. “I want to take you out.”
“Out?”
“I thought we could go to La Stanza Rosso.”
Lucia looks past me to where I know a clock sits on the wall. “It’s midnight.”
“The club is open until 5 am.” I grab her hand and stroke the back of it. “Unless you’re too tired?”
“No, not too tired, and I’ve never been to La Stanza Rosso.”
“Then grab your things and I’ll take you home to change.”
“Actually, I have clothes here.” She twists her mouth the way she does when she’s considering something. “It doesn’t have to be a dress, does it?”
As much as I’d love to see her beautiful curves hugged by a form-fitting dress, preferably in a vibrant shade of red, I’m not going to dictate to her what she wears. I leave that level of controlling shit to my older brother.
“No, but people usually dress up, especially in the VIP area.”
Lucia snorts, an adorably amused sound. “You’re not exactly dressed up.”
That’s true. I’m wearing jeans, a black t-shirt and my leather jacket. Any other club of La Stanza Rosso’s stature would refuse me entry. At least, it would try to.
“I don’t need to wear Armani to be the most important man in the room,” I tell her.
Lucia throws back her head and laughs. “Perhaps I’ll borrow some of your arrogance and no-one will care what I’m wearing.”
“Take whatever you need from me,gattina. Just go get changed.”
“Okay, on one condition,” Lucia says.
“What?”
“You put my staff on the list for next Saturday. We’ve got a busy week ahead. They deserve a treat.”
“Sure,” I say readily because it’s not a big ask. “I’ll get them access to the VIP lounge and arrange some complimentary champagne for them.”
