Page 2 of Kidnapped By the Mafia Boss
“I’ll go to the bar.” He’s on his feet before I can point out that the waitress would come over.
While he finishes his food, I take a couple of sips of the drink. Thankfully, he doesn’t suggest dessert and the waitress notices right away that I need to get out of here, and brings over the bill.
“Absolutely not. You can’t pay for your dinner,” Howard says loud enough for half the restaurant to hear when I offer to split it. Even a man eating on his own in the corner looks over, and my brain thinks I recognise him, but I quickly look away, flushing as Howard goes through the bill item by item, noting which are mine.
“This drink is expensive.”
“It’s pomegranate juice,” I’m compelled to justify, and my ears prickle with humiliation. “Really good for you, and delicious.”
“I prefer a basic beer,” he replies. “A bitrough, you know?”
“Mm.” I make a non-committal noise. Pale, bitter, fizzy water? Not for me.
As we walk out of the restaurant into the foyer of the hotel, I’m itching to get away.
Worst first date. Ever.
Honestly, if this is real-life dating, I’m going back to book boyfriends. At least they are fun. Fictional is a disadvantage, I concede, but if spindly, blond Howard is the best reality can provide, count me out.
“Thank you for a lovely evening.” I pre-empt any kiss—not that I think he’ll offer, but better to be safe—by holding out my hand for a handshake.
Howard scowls and doesn’t reciprocate. “The pleasure was allmine.”
Oof. Awkward.
“Goodnight.” I turn away. This date has been more tiring than I thought. I’m so ready to be home and in bed with a book boyfriend.
“Jenna!” Howard catches my shoulder and I flinch. “Jenna, wait.”
I slide out from under his grasp with a nervous fake giggle.
“Could you do one quick thing for me?” Howard sounds hang-dog and hurt that I shied away from his touch.
“What is it?” I don’t say yes.
“Would you come and have a look at my puppy?”
I stare at him, and my head feels woozy with disbelief. “You have a puppy?”
“In my room. I brought him with me. But he’s a bit unwell. I thought you might take a look?”
Oh, for crying out loud. I am a vet nurse, not a free on-call veterinarian. But I’m polite, and I don’t chastise him for leaving a puppy alone. It’s his hotel bill. My bet is that any puppy will have used the bed as a toilet and everything as a chew toy. “What’s happening with your dog?”
“He’s lethargic. I thought he was tired, but… I dunno. He had a hot, dry nose. That’s normal, right?”
“No…” Oh no. He has a sick puppy and, instead of looking after him, went on a date? What is wrong with people? So exhausting. “That’s not right. You should take him to a vet.”
He shrugs. “Oh, I guess he’ll be fine. I’ll let him be if you don’t want to see him.”
Crap. So unless I go to the puppy, it’s probably going to be left in pain and unwell by his neglectful owner.
“Just come and look for a minute and give me your professional opinion. Five minutes, tops.”
I hesitate and Howard senses my weakness.
“I did buy you dinner.”
I’m too tired to argue. It’ll be quicker to see the puppy than to worry about it and have to text message instructions in the middle of the night or something. I nod and follow, because there is no way I can let anyone neglect a dog. And yeah, I guess he paid for my food.
