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“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, lifting his head as he gulped some of the ginger ale. “Blech! You know, I’m usually the one giving orders.”
She blinked at him. “You serious?” He made a face as she laughed, and she bumped his shoulder, which meant she had to clutch at him before he slid right off the barstool. “You don’t look like the type to order anyone around.”
“Yeah. I’m a total pushover.” He finished draining the glass. “At leasht, out here.” His brows wriggled. “The bedroom ish a different shtory.”
The way he added the h’s to his slurring reminded her of Montrell. She leaned closer to her new friend, intrigued despite herself. “How’s that work?”
He jerked to face her, nearly clipping her in the cheek with his elbow. “What? You didn’t bosh Antonio around?” His eyes turned dreamy. “Antonio ish the best.”
Her eyes widened at the thought. “Wait. Di Salvo?”
“Dee who?” Josh asked, his eyes back at half-mast.
She bit her lip, realizing Antonio hadn’t given this man his last name for a reason. Even outside of their borgatas, the family names were often recognized.
“Well, this is an interesting pairing,” said a voice from behind her.
Crap. Her mind spun a little farther when she whirled, as if it could keep going.
Antonio Di Salvo looked even hotter scowling. His blue dress shirt, with the collar unbuttoned, made his eyes really pop.
Vespa’s hand reached out as if it had a will of its own, patting his face as she stared into those narrowed eyes. “Gorgeous as hell,” she muttered. Her hand jerked back as if it had been burned. The fire drinks had packed more of a punch than she’d thought.
Antonio’s eyes lost their edge, softening as they widened. “Are you drunk?”
She shook her head, but it went on too long again, sloshing funnily. She laughed at the feeling as she grabbed for Josh, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to pull him close. “I’ve only had a few with my new friend.”
“Shit,” Josh said, blinking. His forehead hit the side of her head as he failed to whisper, “I’m hallushinating, right?”
She released him to rub at the bump and consider the hotness of the man in front of her. She shrugged. Thinking too hard about it hurt her head. “If you are, I am too.”
Josh tried on a flirty smile. It was way too lopsided to work. “Hey, Antonio,” he said, his voice coming out a bit singsongy.
She started laughing, then couldn’t stop. Unfortunately, her braying was not a light and flirty giggle, but echoed around the bar.
Antonio’s smile was fake as he stared at them from behind it.
Josh’s face fell. “Oh, no! Now he hates me.” Then his eyes widened, and he bent over to throw up on her boots.
A short while later, after she’d cleaned up her boots in the bathroom and helped Antonio pour a mortified Josh into the rideshare he’d called, Vespa sucked in the cool night air, her head clearing a bit. She stared down at her boots. “He could have at least aimed for this shitty dress.”
Antonio brushed a finger over the long sleeve of it, which was plastered to her skin. “I like the dress.”
She should have appreciated the compliment. Maybe even said something flirty back.
Instead, another voice repeated it in her head, and it seemed more like reality than Antonio complimenting her. Antonio didn’t really like her.
But then, Cesare hadn’t really liked her either.
Her breath hitched, betraying her as the weak fool she was.
She jerked free from Antonio, her hands already clutching at the material of the dress.
“Vespa?” His voice came to her through a tunnel.
She hadn’t just worn a dress again. She’d worn makeup. Her hair was loose, creating a perfect rope for them to clutch and use to try to hold her down.
The beer churned like acid in her gut, making her even more lightheaded.
