Page 82 of Steal My Heart
He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.
“Stop that,” I whisper.
“What?”
Trying to tear my walls down, because the man’s surprisingly good at it.
He hands me a tissue, and I dab my eyes and change the subject. “I stole the mayor’s phone, so I’m entitled to the money, and my record cleared.”
Angelo’s lips quirk. “If you’re attempting to hustle me, I know you’re feeling better.”
“A deal’s a deal,” I tell him.
“‘Get me the mayor’s phone.’ That was our deal, and it didn’t happen.”
“Because of intervening circumstances beyond my control!” I argue. “Besides, what happened to you?” I poke his chest. “Because you were supposed to be my lookout, and you ghosted me!”
His eyes darken like a turbulent storm. “I was detained by police.”
“What?” I sputter. “Like arrested?”
“Let me deal with those intervening circumstances you speak of, and then we’ll talk.”
Crossing the room in large strides, he opens the door, and Nola comes bounding in, followed by Alessandra.
“Nola!” I say excitedly.
Shemeows, hopping up onto the bed and rubbing her head underneath my chin.
“Aww, I’m glad to see you too.” I give my cat a big cuddle. “Hey, Alessandra.” I pull up the covers around me, being that I’m still naked.
“Hey. Heard you had a crazy night. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks. Me too.”
Angelo and his sister exchange something in Italian, and he turns to me. “Rest. I’ll be back in a little while.”
After her brother leaves, Alessandra turns to me. “What do you need? Want me to draw you a warm bath?”
“Thanks, but I spent enough time in water.” I shudder. “I’m good.”
“Right. Sorry. Are you hungry? Corinne’s making you chicken noodle soup.”
My stomach growls as if on cue. “That sounds great.”
“Let me check and see if the soup’s ready. Be right back.” She walks to the door, but lingers. “My brother crashed out when they brought you here, in case you were wondering. Like seriously, I’ve never seen him that upset.”
Unsure what to do with this information, I ask, “What happened to you last night, when it all hit the fan?”
“Let’s see. My brother was taken out of the party in handcuffs. Laurie threw a tantrum, wherein I called her a dumb cunt and threw a glass of champagne in her face, after which I was swiftly escorted out of the party.”
“Are you available for bad bitch lessons?” I say with a giggle.
She rubs her black nails along her shirt. “I have resting bitch face; might as well put it to good use. But don’t think we’re finished with your swim safety lessons.” She points at me. “Treading water saved your life, but barely. It was exhausting, right?”
I don’t answer, because of course, she’s right.
“You’ve got to learn how to float on your back.”
