Page 137 of Forgotten Sacrifice

“Too thick,” Nonna tells me.

I continue to roll the dough, watching Valentina and Sam out of the corner of my eye.

Valentina places a coffee cup in front of Sam withFuck Youwritten in the foam. “Now, if everyone will excuse me, I need to get to work.”

“Painting your nails?” Sam takes a sip of his coffee.

“Why, Sammy? Does your manicure need a touchup? Iris was right; red is your color.” I don’t know what Valentina means, but she turns to me. “Vince, I’ll get started on your restaurant’s soft launchandofficial launch. Let’s set up a meeting once you have your menu and opening date nailed down.”

“Absolutely.”

She nods, spinning on her heel and marching out.

“You made a deal with the devil,” Sam tells me, sipping his coffee.

“Pfft.” Nonna waves her hand. “Valentina’s a strong woman. She’ll need a strong man. I hope her brother chooses wisely.”

Sam nearly chokes on his coffee. “What are you talking about?”

“Keep rolling.” Nonna points her finger at me, and I do as I’m told.

Luna

“Your move,” Bridget tells me.

“Sorry,” I say, focusing on our friendly game at the club.

“What’s wrong? You haven’t been your usual ball-busting self,” she comments.

“Nothing.”

“Where’s Vince been hiding? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“I don’t know. He’s no longer my manager.” I do know he’s alive; both Nicky and Kat told me that much, not that I care or anything.

“Aldo mentioned it,” she admits sheepishly. “What happened?”

“Vince happened.”

“If it makes you feel better, it was obvious that man was head over heels in love with you,” she tells me.

“It doesn’t. Checkmate.”

“Damn. You’re on fire after your win in St. Louis.”

Rage will do that to a girl.

I heat up a pitiful-looking frozen pizza as I pop open a soda, taking a sip. No Vince to annoy, I don’t make my usualAhhsound.

The doorbell rings, and I walk to the living room, peeking out of the peephole. “What do you want, Aldo?” I call through the door.

“Let me in.”

“Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin.”

“If you have chin hair, that’s something you should keep between yourself and your esthetician. Dammit, Luna. You’re just as stubborn as he is. Let me in.”

I open the door, and Aldo enters with a takeout bag. “You’ve lost weight,” he comments.