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Abel narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Yes,” Angela stated readily. “I am. I’m going out, and I need to get changed.”
“Out? Out, where? With whom?” Abel fired back, following her into her bedroom.
She placed Smithy on her bed, grinning when he began to pounce on his tail. She couldn’t blame him—it was incredibly fluffy. “Just to a local bar. And with some work colleagues,” she replied to Abel. “Brian is picking me up in ten minutes. I really need to get changed.”
“Brian? Who the fuck is Brian?” Abel demanded, yelling far more than necessary.
Angela rolled her eyes, moving to her walk-in closet. “He’s a cardiothoracic surgeon. He works at the hospital with me.”
Abel crossed his arms, planting his feet shoulder-width apart. “Is this the same guy Salvatore told us about?”
“He told you?”
“Of course. He told Roman as well. Luca performed a background check on him months ago,” Abel revealed.
“Oh, my god!” she exclaimed. “You roped poor Luca in on this too?”
“He gave Sal the willies,” Abel declared, as if it made all the sense in the world. Angela gaped at him. “The willies?”
Abel nodded. “Yes. You know, his gut. Sal’s gut is never wrong.”
She pursed her lips, tapping her foot. “And what exactly did Luca find?”
Abel’s look turned disgruntled. “Not much,” he admitted. “He’s living within his means, has no extra cash flow or hidden bank accounts. He has no arrest record but was present one night when a domestic altercation took place with a neighbor.”
“Present? As in, he helped?” Angela pressed.
“He and the woman had coffee one day. She woke up outside in her garden after having an argument with her boyfriend. Dr. Brian Mathers found her and called an ambulance,” Abel explained.
Angela relaxed completely, returning to sifting through her clothes. “So, he helped her. Give it a rest, Abel.”
“Maybe,” Abel grumbled. “Sounds suspicious to me.”
She found a cream satin top with sequins along the neckline and some dark skinny jeans. “I’m getting changed. Get out.”
“Ain’t nothing I haven’t seen before,” he said with his trademark grin.
“You haven’t seen mine.” She paused for a moment, considering her words, but finally decided to go with the threat. “I’ll tell Roman you saw me naked.”
Abel stumbled back a step, clutching his chest. “You are a vicious, evil woman. Are you trying to get me killed?” But at least he stepped out and shut the door.
When she walked out five minutes later, Abel was still standing in her living room. Pouting. “How do I look?”
Abel grunted. “Beautiful, of course.”
Angela grinned, walking over to pinch his cheek. “You’re just the sweetest.”
He swatted at her hand but smiled. It didn’t last long. “This is not wise.”
“What isn’t?” she asked absently. She was trying to find a smaller purse in the drawer in her cabinet by the door.
“Going on a date with another man,” Abel clarified. “Roman isn’t going to like this.”
“Firstly, Roman has no right to dictate whom I do and don’t date,” she said, wondering why the words felt like a lie. “He’s not the boss of me,” she added for good measure. She pointedly ignored Abel’s rude snort. “Secondly, it is not a date. It’s a retirement party for a very hard-working man.”
“Does dipshit know that?”
