Alexis

 

My stomach lurched, and not from the movement of the car. It was a smooth ride, and Lorenzo was a good driver. But the idea of meeting the biggest crime boss in the city—especially now that Calzoni was gone—didn’t sit well on my stomach. The closest I ever should have been to this man was reading about him in a newspaper.

 

I straightened my outfit, trying not to let my hands shake. It was a shame that all these beautiful clothes had been bought with blood money. I’d never had a guy take me out to the stores like that before. Lorenzo had waited patiently while I picked out makeup and clothes, given me his opinion outside the fitting room, and never batted an eye at any of the purchases. He had been such a gentleman, and for a little while, I allowed myself to believe that he meant it.

 

But as we approached the restaurant, I instantly remembered that this was all just a hoax to save his ass. He hadn’t done the job he was supposed to do, and even though I had to be grateful for that in some fashion, I didn’t appreciate being his pawn. Lorenzo was a dangerous man, and he had put me in an even more dangerous spot.

 

“Have you ever eaten here before?” he whispered in my ear, gesturing toward the large sign that read, Jianna’s.

 

“I can’t say that I make it a habit to support the mafia with my eating habits,” I whispered back as I studied the place. The brick building had arched windows all along the front and warm lights shone out them. It looked expensive and inviting.

 

“You’ll love it,” he replied, ignoring my snide remark. He was good at ignoring me when it benefited him. “Jianna is an amazing cook, and she does almost all the food herself. Even the breadsticks are handmade. I highly recommend the shrimp alfredo.”

 

No matter how good all of that might have sounded on another day, I couldn’t fathom eating or even ordering. I knew about Moretti from the newspapers, and I didn’t like the idea of sitting down at a dining table with him. A flash of movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I turned to look.

 

“What is it?” Lorenzo asked.

 

But I only saw the crowded downtown street, cars parked alongside the curb, and numerous pedestrians teeming on the sidewalk. Whatever it was, was now gone. “Nothing. Just seeing things. Let’s get this over with.”

 

The host didn’t even bother asking our names. He left his podium to escort us through the dining room to a private table in the back. It was separated from the rest of the place by a thick, red curtain, but I felt as though I was stepping into another world. We left behind the happy couples and young families who shared garlic bread at their tables and entered a scene that could have been decades old.

 

The head of the family sat at the head of the table. I knew instantly that it was him. I had seen his picture before, and everyone else seemed to be eager to serve him. He ruled the table with a gimlet eye and a small smile. The young man to his right poured the wine, and a plump, dark-haired woman stood just over his shoulder and served up his salad. Several other men were seated around the table.

 

Lorenzo put his hand at the small of my back and guided me to a chair on the opposite side of the table from the mob boss. “Just relax,” he whispered in my ear. “It’ll be fine.”

 

I nodded, but I couldn’t quite believe him. How was I going to manage this? Surely these people were naturally suspicious. Didn’t they have to be, due to the business they were involved in? The man to Matteo’s right was already eyeing me closely.

 

“Sir, I’d like to introduce you to my girlfriend, Alexis,” Lorenzo said graciously. “Alexis, this is my boss, Matteo, and his wife, Jianna. Their son, Piero.” He gestured to the young man next to Matteo, who gave me the smallest smile before it was swept away once again by his scowl. My fake boyfriend then introduced the rest of the men around the table, but I couldn’t keep track of all the different names and faces.

 

“It’s very nice to meet you all,” I said as sweetly as I could. “Lorenzo speaks very highly of you, sir.” This last comment was directed to Matteo.

 

He put his hands up in a joyful gesture. “It is I who have been speaking so highly of him! He is one of the top employees in my firm and he has been a remarkable man. You’ve landed yourself quite a catch, Alexis, if I may say so.”

 

I turned to Lorenzo, softening my eyes and smiling. He said this would be no different than any other performance for me, but he was wrong. I not only had to make Lorenzo believe that he was important to me, but I had to convince everyone else in the room as well. “Thank you. I have to say that I agree.”

 

The woman set down her serving bowl and came around the table to clasp my hand. Her fingers were warm and soft. “Oh, it’s so nice to meet you! In all the years I’ve known my sweet Lorenzo, he’s never brought someone to dinner. You’re special indeed, my dear!” She pressed her lips to my cheek.

 

“Jianna …” Lorenzo protested.

 

“Don’t you scold me, young man! You know exactly what I’m talking about! You date, but you never bring them home. It’s about time you started settling down a little bit. And what a lovely girl she is!” Mrs. Moretti seemed to be swooning over me.

 

Lorenzo’s cheeks burned. “Can’t we just move on to the breadsticks? I’m starving.”

 

Jianna shook her finger at him and smiled. “You know how to get to me! I love to feed my boys,” she explained as she retrieved the serving bowl once again and put a big pile of salad in the bowl in front of me.

 

“You’re embarrassing him,” Matteo said to his wife. “You can’t treat him like he’s a child, Jianna. He’s a grown man.”

 

“A grown man that I’ve known for a long time and whom I think of as my own,” she corrected him. “Besides, he knows just as well as you do that I speak the truth.”

 

I turned my eyes down to the tablecloth, studying grapes embroidered into the thick cream-colored cloth. If I could ignore for a moment who these people really were, then this dinner would be no more intimidating than meeting any boyfriend’s parents. Matteo might have been Lorenzo’s boss, but it was clear that there was a much closer relationship than that of employer and employee. They loved him like a son, they were proud of him, and they wanted what was best for him. I had to be the best for him.

 

Everyone tucked into their meals. The other men at the table, whom I could only assume were the other hitmen and capos who worked for Matteo, didn’t pay me much attention. Beginning to relax, I took a bite of my salad. The dark, leafy greens, tomatoes, and black olives perfectly complimented the dressing. “This is amazing,” I muttered.

 

Lorenzo put his hand on my thigh as he leaned over. “Jianna makes it herself, fresh every day. She also made the croutons.” His skin was warm against mine, even through the fabric of my clothes. The scent of his cologne drifted to my nostrils.

 

“Tell us, Alexis, what do you do for a living?” This came from Piero, who had poured some dressing on his salad but had only managed to poke at it with his fork instead of eating it. I made a mental note to ask Lorenzo about him later.

 

I dabbed at the corner of my mouth with the thick napkin I had been given. “I just moved into town, so I’m looking for employment at the moment. But, most recently, I was working as a secretary for an insurance agency.”

 

Piero gave the slightest nod of his head, his lip curling up into a sneer. “That’s not a very prestigious position. I would have thought Lorenzo would want a woman with her sights set a little higher.”

 

“On the contrary,” Lorenzo answered for me. “Alexis has quite the future planned for herself. You shouldn’t be so quick to judge someone you don’t know.”

 

Though I really had no goals other than to survive this, then somehow get the hell out of town and pretend none of this had ever happened, I was grateful to have Lorenzo come to my defense. His hand was still on my leg, and I laid my hand on top of it and squeezed.

 

“We shouldn’t worry about such things,” Jianna said, clearly upset that her dinner was becoming so tense. “Lorenzo, tell us something of a happier nature. How did the two of you meet?” Instead of sitting down to eat with the rest of us, the woman spent her time buzzing around the table. She made sure everyone had enough food and wine, serving up shrimp Alfredo in honor of her, “dear Lorenzo, because I know it’s his favorite.” She replaced dropped forks, encouraged the diners to have more breadsticks, and patted shoulders as she went along.

 

“It’s kind of funny, actually.” Lorenzo smiled as he began his story, and my heart hiccupped. I had seen the corners of his mouth turn up before, but never so genuinely. He really was a handsome man, but his tough attitude often made it hard for me to realize. “I was out having a drink, when I saw this beautiful woman across the room. At first, I didn’t think much about it. I was just so tired and I was going to have my beer, go home, and watch a movie. But the next thing I know, this gorgeous woman is tapping my shoulder and asking me if I remember her. We went to school together, and I’d always had the biggest crush on her.” He laughed softly and ran his hands across his mouth nervously. “I couldn’t believe it. We closed down the bar that night.”

 

“What bar?” Piero demanded over a bite of pasta.

 

“57th Street,” I answered instantly. We had rehearsed this part a lot back at Lorenzo’s apartment, knowing that everyone would be interested. He even brought me to the place, so I could see the backdrop of our fictitious first date. “I heard they served an excellent White Russian, and I got to try their famous fried mushrooms.”

 

Piero grunted and shoved his food in his mouth, no doubt grumpy because he didn’t have a chance to call me out on a lie. I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing at the sauce that dripped down his chin.

 

“You like White Russians?” Jianna exclaimed. “You wait right here, my dear, and I’ll have the bartender make one for you immediately.”

 

I waved off the notion. “You don’t have to go to the trouble. The wine is more than enough.”

 

“You really should try it,” Lorenzo advised. “It’s not my favorite drink, but it’s quite impressive here.”

 

Jianna hadn’t listened to me, anyway, and she had bustled off through the curtain to find the bartender.

 

By the time we finally got up to leave, my skin was warm and my feet didn’t quite want to work. I’d had far too much to drink and so much good food. As Lorenzo put his arm around me to escort me back out to the car, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had such a nice date.