Page 91 of Lorenzo

“Pull back a chair right here by the window where it’s open and shady.”

Before he even offers to get water, he steps around the perimeter of the small patio, checking the gap between the ivy trellis and the main walkway. Satisfied the area is clear, he turns back to me.

“Want me to go inside and get you something so you and the doggo can relax?” he asks, draping his suit jacket over the chair directly facing mine. “I’ll order from the counter right through that open glass window so I’ve got eyes on you the whole time.”

“Water would be great,” I say, looping Biscotti’s pink leash twice around the heavy wrought-iron table leg and giving it a hard, testing tug. “For both of us.”

“Good,” Ernesto nods approvingly, checking the knot himself. “Stay put. I won’t take my eyes off the table.”

Biscotti flops down in the shade beneath me, chin on his paws, while Ernesto steps through the open café door to the counter ten feet away.

Through the wide glass window, I can see him standing at the register, his broad shoulders angled so he never turns his back on my table.

I pull out my phone, snorting with laughter as I read Anna’s meme about a Darcy-like character that reminds me of Lorenzo. We exchange a few quick texts, and for twenty seconds, maybe longer, my focus drifts.

Then, remembering I’m babysitting my new sister-in-law’s dog, I look down.

But Biscotti is gone.

And the leash that must have trailed behind him leaves an uneven line down the dirt path toward the trees.

“Biscotti!” I call.

But there’s no response.

I can’t imagine how such a small dog can yank a heavy leash free, but he did.

The same cold feeling I’d experienced at the restaurant twisted through my stomach.

Just then, Ernesto comes out of the café with the water.

“Ernesto!” I rush toward him. “Biscotti got away! Please help me find him.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. R. He can’t have gotten far. Let’s go in opposite directions. We’ll find him.”

I take the nearby path, knowing how much Biscotti likes attention from human beings. But after five minutes, no sign of him.

I must find him or Gina will be hysterical. And who knows what effect that could have on her unborn baby?

CHAPTER 39

LORENZO

After Emily leaves to walk Biscotti, I look out the high-rise window as if I can see her through the maze of green.

Then I go to Dante’s penthouse upstairs.

I have to act calm and controlled in front of Emily, like entrails are sent on people’s doorstep every day.

But as soon as I’m in front of Dante in his office, I can no longer control my anger.

“Lorenzo. Calm down,” Dante says, the picture of calm as I stand ranting in front of him.

“It isn’t like you to lose your edge over something like this. We’ve managed Petrov threats before. We’ll survive this one.”

“The Petrovs came into my territory, Dante. They touched what’s mine. This clever little arrangement with her uncle was supposed to clean up the gaming commission, not put a bullseye on my wife.”

I sink into a leather chair, forcing myself to rein in my anger.