Page 26 of Wounded King

Just kidding you. It's all good. I'd like to meet her, though.

Luciano:

…

It's complicated.

Me:

Hmm. Sounds like we need to talk

Luciano:

Not anytime soon. Car is on its way.

Oh shit! The car.

I jump up, startling Felix once more. "I'm sorry, got to go to work, bub. You'll like my new work schedule, though. I promise."

I rush into the bedroom. Thankfully, I don't have to worry about what I'll wear. The only choice I have to make is whether to wear green, brown, or auburn scrubs.

I decide on the auburn and pull my hair up into a ponytail. A quick glimpse in the mirror tells me that I should have probably taken the time to put on some makeup, but the ringing of the doorbell puts an end to that idea.

"Alejandro?" I ask, staring at the unmistakably Italian gangster in front of me. Probably about twenty-six, he looks striking in his dark suit and sunglasses.

He whips the glasses off and says, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Meade. Luciano sent me. I'll be your driver until Mr. Orsi doesn't need you any longer."

"Nice to meet you, Alejandro. Hold on, let me grab—damn it, Felix."

My black and white cat decides this is the best moment for a jailbreak.

Alejandro steps out of the way, while I throw myself forward, grabbing the cat by the tail to stop him. He meows in protest before I load him into my arms, kissing his forehead and ignoring his judgmental green eyes that promise death to me.

"I told you, Mommy has to go to work, you ungrateful little worm. Here. Let me see. I didn't hurt you, did I? It's your fault anyway. You know we don't have time to call the fire department again."

"Again?" Alejandro raises an eyebrow and stares at Felix as if he were a contagious disease.

"Long story. Let's just say, he knows how to get up a tree, but not down." I give Felix another big kiss between the ears, ignoring him swiping at me, and push him back into the house, closing the door quickly.

"Okay, I'm ready." I send a wide smile at Alejandro, who looks as if he's about to shake his head at me.

"You know there's a better way to get a cat out of a tree, " he says as we walk toward a huge black SUV parked in front of the duplex where I'm renting a unit.

"Oh, what's that?"

His grin should have warned me, but when he makes a pew, pew motion with his hand toward the tree, I stare at him, aghast. He laughs heartily and opens the back door for me.

"Do you mind if I sit up front with you?" I ask.I might want to be close enough to throttle you. My mind adds.

"Not at all."

He opens the front passenger door and helps me in.

"So, how long have you worked for Mr. Orsi?" I ask to make conversation when he merges onto the main road.

"Four years. I've been with him since Sicily."

That's right. I'd almost forgotten that Luciano told me Marcello only came back to the States a year ago, when his brother was killed.