Page 7 of Second in Command
As Alberto leaves, I realize that I wasn’t taking this entire thing as seriously as I should. Francesca shouldn’t be allowed to look at me the way she does, and if they caught her . . . If anyone just pointed it out, it would be my head on a spike.
I needed to speak to her, seriously, but this house isn’t the right place. Where would be a better place besides the city? It was doubtful that anyone who knew the two of us would be there, and I could get a chance to tell her to fall back—keep things groovy.
* * *
If there was trulya mole in the organization, they were well-trained. I stood over the table as Alberto spoke, and I used that time to survey everyone’s body language. The ones who spoke, and the ones who remained quiet . . . There was nothing bizarre, or unusual. It’s either they weren’t in the room, or they were really good at hiding.
Whatever it was, I’m almost ashamed to say that it has to wait.
* * *
My hands remainedin my pockets as I found Francesca’s café.City Bakerywas written in a pastel pink over the entrance.
As soon as I push open the door, I spot her. My fingers tingle, and as if I was running a marathon, my breathing became shallow.What was this?
Francesca had this — full-blown smile on her face as she spoke to a customer . . . a male customer.
She hadn’t once smiled at me, not even in the moments before the club yet she grinned, and laughed with this man.
Noticeably, she was even more beautiful when she smiled.
She shook her head left to right and reached over to grab her diary, writing down something in it, then tearing the edge before handing it to the man. The man nodded at her, with a wink, before turning to leave.
I boil with rage as he holds the paper in his hand as if it’s a trophy.
As he walked past me, I yank it from his hand, instantaneously pressing a gun against his stomach before he could say anything else.
“Leave, and don’t come back.”
The man glanced at me for a moment, his lips parted in shock before he hurried out of the building, mumbling something underneath his breath. I turned back to Francesca, who still hadn’t noticed me, but all I could see was her smiling at that man.
My feet move on their own accord as I walk around to her, cutting the line. Her eyes widen as she spots me before they lowered and her lips pursed.
“Enzo,” she breathes, “what’re you doing—”
“Is this why you wanted to run your own business?”
She’s taken aback by my tone. She lets out a nervous laugh, lifting a hand to the protesting customers behind me. Moving away from the register, and allowing another employee to take over. I follow her into the back, and her eyes are wide, this time, not with surprise.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” She snarls.
“I was passing down the street when I saw you—”
“Don’t give me that bullshit. You know I own the business, so you knew I’d be here.”
She had a point that I couldn’t rebut. “Nevertheless, I saw you.”
Francesca raises an eyebrow, folding her arms challengingly, “You saw me?”
“I saw you smiling, and laughing with that man,” I tilt my head at her, “I saw you slip him your number.”
Once I drop the crinkled paper on the floor and look down at it. Her face softens for a second.
“Okay, is that a crime?”
“It may as well be. Your father didn’t raise you to be a damn whore.”
“A whore,” she giggles, unfazed, “That was a customer, what would you like me to do? Growl?”
