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“Lucky for me.”
“I’ll whip up some scrambled eggs. Why don’t you take a seat? I’m sure you must be a little fuzzy still.”
I sit down at the kitchen counter while I drink the coffee and watch the stunning Mia as she whisks eggs. Amazing how she makes such a mundane task appear erotic. She’s wearing her dark hair up in a bun, and I marvel at her high cheekbones and unblemished, olive skin. Mia is a rare beauty. I wonder why she’s single. Surely, men must fawn over her wherever she goes. Not that I’m complaining.
“Did you sleep well?” I ask.
“Like the dead. You?”
“Surprisingly well, considering.”
“Here. Take these.”
Mia places two painkillers and a glass of water on the counter in front of me.
“They’ll take the edge off.”
“Thanks.”
I watch her while she cooks the eggs. I drool as she reaches for a plate on the top shelf, exposing her gorgeous derriere. I’m desperate to leap off my chair and take a bite out of her delicious butt cheek, but the pain is keeping me from it. Fuck you, Kyle! You’re going to pay for this. You’re going to wish you’d never heard the name De Luca.
I wonder if he’s alone in his betrayal. Did he have help? None of it makes sense. Why would Kyle lure me here and then try to kill me? Surely he must know that his actions are tantamount to suicide. Either way, he’s a dead man.
“Here you go. Eggs ala Empty Pantry.”
“Smells good. Do you have hot sauce?”
“You’re in luck,” she says and opens the fridge. “A friend brought this back from Mexico. It’s delicious, but beware. It will erode your undies from the inside,” she giggles.
She is so sweet.
“I promise to make this up to you, Mia.”
“Last night was a good start.”
“A meager offering,” I smirk.
“So, what’s the plan? Where to from here?”
“Well, I have to call my brother in Rome and talk to him about a few things before I decide.”
“I don’t want any trouble here, Dante. Promise to keep me out of whatever this is.”
Mia is acting like someone who has something to say, but can’t decide on the exact delivery. I can’t blame her. What woman would invite this sort of chaos into her home?
“I promise. No trouble.”
There’s a knock at the door. Mia is flushed. I wonder what’s going on.
“Are you expecting anybody?” I ask, hoping that my trust in her is well founded.
“Yes, actually. I’ll be back in a sec.”
I don’t have my gun. I hate being without it.
I hear the chatter of a child as soon as Mia answers the door. I wonder who it is. My answer comes soon enough when a young boy, around four or five, I reckon, walks into the living room. I recognize him from the photos in Mia’s room. He’s a beautiful boy.
“Hi,” he beams up at me with his innocent face. “Who are you?”