Page 37 of The Broker

“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit,” the big security chief replies.

“Oscar Wilde.” I recognize the quote and give Leo a surprised look. “Really?”

“What? As astonishing as it may seem, I read.”

I roll my eyes. “Who’s being sarcastic now?” Trading insults with Leo takes my mind off the awkward moment when Dante walked into his house. We both stared at each other for a long moment. Neither of us said anything. I chickened out, okay? Rather than talk about last night, I murmured something about not wanting to be late and fled. “I know you read. I just didn’t know you read nineteenth-century Irish poets.”

We arrive at Rosa’s before Leo can respond. He waits while I knock on the door.

Rosa answers the door wearing a tiny jade green slip. “You wouldn’t believe what happened. I tore my—” She realizes I’m not alone, and her face turns beet red. “Umm, hi. My zipper broke.”

“Yes.” Leo’s expression is deadpan, but I’ve known him for a long time. He’stotallychecking Rosa out.

Well, well, well.

“Rosa Tran, meet Leonardo Cesari. Rosa was in school with me and designs clothes. Leo works with me.”

“Nice to meet you.” Rosa holds out her hand, and the strap slides down her shoulder. “Umm,” she says again, grabbing it before her breasts fall out of the skimpy garment. “Sorry about the strip tease. My clothes don’t usually fall to pieces on me.”

“No apology needed,” Leo says, a wicked glint in his eyes. “I enjoyed it.” He nods at me. “See you later, Valentina.”

Rosa makes wide eyes at me when the door shuts. “That’s the Leo you work with? You never told me how hot he is.”

“Leo isn’t. . .” I reconsider that statement. “If you like the type, I guess. He’s too old for you. Besides, you’re dating someone. I thought you liked Franco.”

“He’s okay.” She doesn’t sound terribly enthusiastic. “Last week, he told me that fashion is frivolous.”

I wince. Why on Earth would you tell a fashion designer her work was frivolous? Franco’s an idiot. “Why are you still seeing him?”

“That’s a question I’ve asked myself more than once.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Anyway, let’s get your dress sorted, and then I’ll deal with my zipper mishap.”

Vetrano is only a ten-minute walk from Rosa’s place. We’ve arranged to meet our dates there, so we walk over after we get ready. One of Leo’s team is tailing me, I’m sure, but whoever it is stays out of sight.

Normally, I would be freaking out about the impending date. Instead, my mind replays last night’s kiss and today’s disastrous aftermath. I check my phone ten times on the way to the restaurant.

Rosa notices. “What’s going on with you? Why are you so fidgety?”

“You know me,” I say vaguely.

She gives me a sideways look. “Idoknow you. You’re not usually glued to your phone.”

No, I’m not. Tonight, though, I keep checking to see if Dante’s texted me. Of course, he hasn’t. “Just checking to see if everything’s okay with Angelica.”

I shouldn’t have mentioned my daughter. “Who’s watching her?” Rosa asks. “Lucia?”

“No,” I admit reluctantly. “Dante.”

I must not be very good at keeping my voice neutral. Rosa stops walking and pivots around to face me. “What’s going on?” she demands. “Why do you sound like that?”

“Sound like what? I’m fine.” I force a smile on my face. “Oh, look, we’re here.”

Neil Smith is not great. Okay, that’s a little unfair. There’s nothing particularlywrongwith Neil. He’s not bad looking. He’s average height and has curly black hair and piercing blue eyes. His suit fits him well enough.

He’s just a little too much. I don’t know how to describe it. When he talks, his voice is a note too loud. When I take off my coat and he sees me in Rosa’s pink cocktail dress, his gaze lingers a shade too long. His smile is a bit too broad when he asks me what I do.

But the biggest thing wrong with Neil?

He’s not Dante.

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