Page 63 of Whispers of Wisteria
He rolled his eyes as he reached into the front of his jacket and pulled out a small black card. “Don’t pretend to be dim. It’s annoying. Let’s agree to leave the evasiveness at the courts and deal in real-world terms. Here.”
I ignored Maria’s tense form, reached around her, and took the paper from him. But I didn’t have a chance to look at it before his hand closed over mine.
“When you’re ready to talk business, call me.”
“Are you done?” Maria stepped closer, pushing me more solidly behind her back.
“For now,” the man responded before he stepped back. He moved into the pushing chaos and pressed two fingers to the side of his forehead in a short salute. “I’ll be seeing you both again soon.”
Ernesto Lucciano.
The name gleamed in gold, elegant, swirling script on the thick cardstock. I flipped it over. There was no title, no business, just a single phone number engraved into the back. There was nothing to explain who he was or what he wanted.
I really hoped this number accepted text messages because I would rather gouge out my eyeball with a spoon than call a stranger.
“Who do you think he is?” I wondered. It was a fancy card—it captured the light rather mesmerizingly when held a certain way.
“He’s Ernesto Lucciano,” she repeated the name. “He’s Unseelie.”
Maria’s knuckles were white around the steering wheel, and her focus was pointedly on the road. I wanted to think that this excessive concentration was because she cared for her Mercedes, but she’d already proven the exact opposite on the drive to the fights.
“He’s the second-in-command for a regional gang,” she continued. “He is the patriarch of his house despite being only thirty-two. I didn’t expect to see him there.”
“Unseelie?” I stopped turning the card. “Why would they be at a fight club?”
Maria shot me a pointed look.
“Okay…” My face warmed, and I stared at the light tan dashboard. I was being somewhat hypocritical to call out another fae’s involvement in illegal activities when we’d been doing the same thing. “What does that mean then? Why are you upset?”
“Why am I upset?” She sounded incredulous. “Did you not just hear me? He’s agang leader.”
“Not really,” I rebutted. “He’s only second-in-command. Are you afraid of him?”
She laughed, and I clutched at my seat as her erratic driving returned. “No,” she answered, finally stopping to take a breath. “But he knows you’re fae.”
Well… Most people seemed to know that anyway.
“That means he was probably watching you for a while, longbeforeGeorge and I fought,” she continued, seemingly frustrated. “You’re on his radar, and he knows what you look like.”
“Ah.” I shrugged, picking the card up again. She said this, but I couldn’t help but feel that this worry was a gross overreaction. “Who cares? I think I’m going to contact him.”
“What?” Maria’s high-pitched shout cut through my head, and she jerked at the wheel.
My stomach churned. “Maybe we should pull over,” I muttered.
To my surprise, she did, swerving onto the shoulder and parking the car on the side of the two-lane country highway. “You can’t call him!” she said, facing me.
“I’m not going to call him,” I conceded. “I’m going to text him.”
There was a difference.
“But why?” Maria clasped her hands in front of her in a pleading motion. “What possible reason would you have to be friendly with someone from the Lucciano house?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “He might be the connection we’ll need forThe Lone Lioness.”
“Wait, we’re seriously calling it that?”
That had never been in question, so I ignored it. “And he doesn’t seem like a bad person.”
