Page 97

I nearly slipped off the spa bench. “What the fuck?” Sam looked entirely too pleased with herself at my reaction. “You’re making that up,” I said.
“Nope. Feel free to text her and ask her yourself.”
I would do no such thing. If it was true, I didn’t want to know. That would only mess with my head even more. Steadying myself, I got back to the point of the story. “Why would Vito go after Jimmy Tate? It doesn’t make any sense.”
Sam sipped her wine and stared up at the sky. “Stranger things have happened. Like a woman breaking her no-repeats rule for a guy who won her winery in a poker game.”
“I told you, it isn’t a rule.”
“Sure. Listen, are you safe around this guy? Because if he is responsible for something happening to Jimmy, you could be at risk.”
“Vito would never hurt me.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I didn’t even need to think about it. “Yes, I am. Besides, you’ve seen Luca with Val. These guys might be violent around other men, but they don’t hurt women.”
“Luca and Val are married.” Her lips twisted playfully. “Though it sounds like Vito already considers the two of you married.”
I splashed her face with water.
Before either of us could say anything else, a deep, Italian-accented voice cut through the sound of the bubbling jets. “Cazzo, this weather!”
A miserable-looking Massimo appeared out of the darkness. He wore only his white chef coat, which was rolled up on his tattooed forearms, and carried a rectangular chafing dish. “Hey, Maz!” I called. “You can put that inside. We’ll get out now.”
He hurried across the deck and darted into the cottage. I glanced over at Sam. “Ready? Grab a towel quickly. It’s going to be really cold.”
She put a hand on my arm. “Wait, is that the brother?”
“Yep. That’s Vito’s brother Massimo. Currently our chef.”
Sam bit her lip and looked longingly at the door where Maz had just disappeared. “Wowza.”
“Slow down, girl. He has a girlfriend back in Italy. Okay, let’s go. I’m starving.”
We braced for the bitter freeze and grabbed our wine. I didn’t even stop to wrap the towel around me, just darted into the cottage. Sam did the same.
We dried off and Sam put her hoodie on over her suit. As Maz set out plates filled with food, I asked, “Why didn’t you wear a coat?”
He rubbed his arms and his lips were light blue. “I had no idea it was this fucking cold or else I would have.”
“Borrow Vito’s jacket.” I pointed to a puffy down coat hanging by the door. “He never wears that one.”
“Hi, I’m Sam.” Sam got very close to Massimo and held out her hand.
Maz angled toward her and gave her a devastating smile dripping with charm as they shook hands. “Ciao, signorina. I am Massimo D’Agostino.”
Sam’s skin turned red as she stared up at him. “Thank you for dinner. It looks delicious.”
She hadn’t even glanced at the food, the little liar. I clapped my hands once. “Okay, thanks Maz. You’re amazing. But we wouldn’t want to keep you. I’m sure you have dinner service to oversee.”
“I do need to get back.” He bent to kiss Sam’s cheeks. “Ciao, bella.” Then he walked over to me, probably to do the same, but I held up my hand. “Save it, Romeo. Get out of here.”
He chuckled, not offended in the least. “Your loss. Buona sera, signorine. Enjoy!”
Sam sighed when Massimo left. I rolled my eyes and lowered myself onto one of the bar stools. “You are so transparent. Are you going to drool over his food like you drooled over him?”
“Maybe.” She sat next to me and put the cloth napkin on her lap. “Oh, my god. Chocolate cakeandcannoli. And that pasta dish smells amazing.” There was also broiled fish and vegetables. “I think I need to move out here if this is how you’re eating every night.”