Page 24 of Rooke
“You’re being ridiculous. However, if that’s the case and you want to stay, you should relax and enjoy the wine. It’s really fucking good.”
“You know a lot about wine do you?”
She’s in full spitfire mode right now. She cocks her head to one side, fixing me in a hostile stare. I can’t really blame her for being mad at me. She probably wants to chew me out for admitting to what I do to supplement my income, but she’s a smart woman. We’re in the viper’s den. Shouting at me for working for the Barbieri family would be supremely ill advised when sitting in the Barbieri family’s restaurant. So this is it: she’s going to rail against anything else I say to demonstrate how utterly pissed off she is with me. I sigh, putting down my glass.
“I know enough to know what tastes good and what doesn’t. Am I not supposed to know anything about wine because I’m just a kid?”
“You’re barely old enough to drink.”
“I’m nearly twenty-four, Sasha.”
Two waiters arrive, brandishing plates under cloches, white cloths folded over their arms. Our conversation grinds to a halt as they serve us our food and top up the wine. As soon as they’re gone, I plant my elbows on the table and lean closer to Sasha, talking in hushed tones.
“You think the amount of days I’ve been alive on this planet has any real bearing on how well I can fuck you? You think the date on my driver’s license means I won’t be able to make you come? That I won’t be able to love you? That I won’t be able to make you happy? If that’s the case, thenyouare the child here, not me. You’re clinging to this age bullshit like it’s a life raft that’s saving you from drowning, Sasha, when it’s the only thing dragging you under. This moment, here, right now…thisis the only time when our ages will ever really matter. You’re eleven years older than me. Accept it. Let it go. You’re fighting an unstoppable force, Sasha. I’m growing impatient…and I do very,veryrash things when I grow impatient.”
“A very mature response.”
I take another sip of wine, enjoying the texture of the liquid in my mouth. “I’m going to take you across my knee and spank you soon. Is that what you want? In front of all these people?”
“You wouldn’t fucking dare.”
“Oh, I really fuckingwould. And no one here would mind watching, I assure you.”
She bristles like a scalded cat. “This bravado thing really is a little crazy. If you’re trying to impress me with how manly and domineering you are, it’s not working. I can see right through the charade.”
I smile. I smile like a man who knows something. I smile like a man who’s just been issued with a challenge. When I don’t say anything, Sasha fidgets in her seat, frowning. She picks up her fork and points it at me, stabbing it in my direction. “I’m not playing, Rooke.”
“Neither am I, Sasha.Neither am I.”
We eat in what some might call tense silence for the next fifteen minutes. I don’t find the break in conversation uncomfortable, though. I find it highly entertaining, especially since Sasha looks so goddamn hot with all of that blood flushing her cheeks. The way she stabs her steak onto her fork is admirable. I think she could probably defend herself reasonably well in a street brawl by virtue of sheer viciousness. I’m on the verge of speaking when another waiter approaches the table. Only when he reaches us, it’s not a waiter at all, but Roberto Barbieri, head of the Barbieri family himself. Overly thin and overly tall, the guy has always reminded me of a caricature—an exaggerated version of what an Italian mob boss might look like if he were a villain in a graphic novel. And yet here he is, in the flesh, larger than life. He gives me a toothy grin, folding his hands in front of his stomach as he looks down at our half-finished meals.
“Ah! The steak. Yes, we do a good steak. It’s wonderful to see you, Rooke. I was beginning to think you’d never bring anyone here to revel in our company. All of my other…friends…make good use of this place as often as they can. You, on the other hand…”
I return his tight-lipped smile. “Don’t take it personally. I just don’t have that many friends.”
“Come now.I don’t believe that for a second.”
“No, it’s true. It’s his grating personality,” Sasha says. “No one can tolerate being around him for more than five minutes at a time.”
I can’t help myself; I laugh out loud. She must know this guy is no joke. Who else would saunter up to a table and start talking to guests in a place like this?Especiallyin a place like this. And he knows my name… He can only be the boss.
Looks like Sasha Connor is angry enough at me to risk baiting me in front of the most dangerous of men after all. She’s a fucking keeper. Roberto smirks at her, nodding his head, amused by her tone. “But you’re made of sterner stuff, I see. You’ve been sitting here with him for at least an hour. It can only be love.”
“This is our first date actually. It’s definitely not love.”
“And yet when you look at him, I see fire in your eyes.”
“It might look like fire, but I assure you it’s closer to hatred at this point.”
Roberto shrugs nonchalantly. “If it burns, mi’ amore…it burns.”
THIRTEEN
DISASTER
SASHA
Dessert is probably the most perfect panna cotta ever created and yet it tastes like sawdust in my mouth. I swallow down a few bites, and then I discard my spoon, pushing the ramekin away.
