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He leans against his bike and lights up a joint. “Not when I hear you’re out with Corrado Mancini.” He spits. “Wearing clothes that Gail would steal for a night out with him.”
His mother, Gail, overdosed, and Jesse is still mad at her for that, even though she’s long gone.
“If you needed money, you could’ve told me.”
I prop my hand on my hip. “I can’t go out with a nice man without you thinking I’m an escort or a hooker.”
“Corrado is not a nice man, and whatcha want me to think when you’re dressed like that?”
I knock on his head. “Hey, Jesse, modern world knocking. You know, the one where women wear minidresses and aren’t selling their bodies? Corrado and I had dinner. That’s all.”
“Where?”
“At the Icon.”
Jesse snorts. “He took you to a hotel because there are rooms upstairs.”
I start to walk away.
Jesse catches up to me and grabs my elbow. “I mean it, Michela. You could’ve asked me for money before you went out as an escort.”
“Oh my God, Jesse, I’m not his escort. He asked me out to dinner, and I agreed. That’s all.”
“He wouldn’t do that. It makes no sense he’d go out with you.”
“Ouch.”
Jesse takes a puff. “That’s not how I meant it, and you know it. How did you even meet him?”
“I dropped off his laundry.”
“Huh. And he took one look at you and asked you out?”
“Two looks.”
Jesse narrows his eyes. “Don’t sass me about this.”
“And what about you? How do you know him?”
“I only know of him. Which is why I’m worried about you.”
“You don’t have to worry because there’s nothing between Corrado and me. The dinner didn’t go well, and he sent me home.”
“Thank God. If he tries to get back with you, avoid him. Gently, but firmly.”
Usually, Jesse takes the role of Gordon and says things like, if the guy bothers you, tell me, and I’ll take care of him. The way he’s said about Tino. The fact he doesn’t say that when talking about Corrado makes me think Jesse knows Corrado is not the kind of man anyone can handle. Which is scary. Jesse rides with the deadliest men in the city.
The news that Corrado has proclaimed me his wife hasn’t reached him yet. Since I’ve filled my quota of conflict with alpha males for the day (more likely for the year), and I want to go to bed and sleep for five days, then wake up refreshed and ready for a nerve-racking job search again, I hug Jesse. “Okay, I’ll do that.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Stay out of trouble.”
“I will.” I climb the steps to my apartment and enter quietly. Inside, Mom is where she always is at this time of night. Passed out in the recliner. The only difference is what’s in her hand. Instead of the bottle, it’s a letter.
I snatch it and sit on the sofa next to the pile of laundry. The letter reads as a termination of employment. Mom lost her job.
Crap.
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