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She glared at him accusingly. “I thought you were jogging.”
Salvatore wiped nonexistent sweat from his forehead. “Phew. What a workout. I’m so tired.”
“Uh-huh,” Angela said dryly, shaking her head. He was almost as incorrigible as Abel. Still, she unlocked her doors for the crazy man.
“What? You don’t think I’m fit enough?” he asked as he plonked his solid mass onto her front seat. He flexed his arm, making his right bicep bulge. “Check out my guns.”
She eyed his muscles with appreciation. There was no denying the man was fit. And hot, she added. But that was not the point. “Your guns could use a little work,” she told him, finally pulling out into traffic.
Salvatore just grinned. “Yeah, right. I don’t get any complaints from Luca.”
“He’s a lucky guy,” Angela agreed sincerely.
“No,” Sal said decisively. “I’m the lucky one.”
Angela sighed, melting from the love easily detectable in his voice. “Don’t be sweet. I’m still annoyed with you.”
“I can’t help it. Sweet is my default,” he told her happily.
“Right. And what’s Roman’s default?” she asked without meaning to.
“Rage,” Sal supplied quickly. “Especially when he’s worried about those he cares about. Which is why I’m going to advise you to stay away from that other doctor.”
Angela flashed her passenger an annoyed look. “I work with that other doctor. It’s a little hard to stay away from him. Besides, Brian is harmless. And Roman has no say in whom I talk to. Besides, he doesn’t care about me like that. We cleared that up just this morning.”
“Still in Egypt, I see,” Sal said obscurely.
Angela frowned. “What?”
“Denial, it’s a river there,” he clarified.
Angela scowled at him, pulling into a reserved car space out the front of the Omertà complex. It was a quick drive, especially so late at night. “Get out.”
Salvatore laughed a little before obediently opening the door and exiting her car. He leaned his head back in the still-open window before she could drive off. “Seriously, Angel. Be careful, yeah?”
“I always am,” she told him. Then she pressed the window button, forcing him to step back or risk decapitation. “It’s why I’m thirty-nine years old and only just discovering what having friends is like,” she added when she was once more alone.
She wondered what it said about her that all her new friends were criminals. And why she was suddenly okay with that.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Mr. Romano, your four o’clock is here.”
“Thank you, Marcia,” Roman replied, pressing his intercom.
Before he could do anything else, his office door suddenly opened. He was about to kick his next appointment out on his ass for simply barging in, but it was just Abel. “What do you want? I have a meeting.”
“I know you do. With a potential new associate,” Abel responded, walking over to the desk. “It’s why I’m here.”
Roman glared at his friend. “I told you I don’t need a bodyguard for business meetings.”
“And most of the time, we allow you to handle them on your own. But not when it’s a new player wanting to take over Raz’s old territory,” Abel explained patiently.
“We? Who the hell is we?” As if he didn’t know. His inner circle was filled with mother hens.
Abel shrugged. “Me, Sal, Morrigan. And Luca, of course. Would you like me to notify your brother that you want to handle this solo?” He got his phone out of his pants pocket and began to type.
Roman reached out and snatched the cell from Abel’s hands. “Don’t you dare.” His brother was the worst of them.
