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Billie chuckled. “Mia, this is Marcello. He’s a guest tattoo artist here for the next few months. Marcello, this is Mia and Devyn.”
Marcello lifted Mia’s hand to his lips for a kiss. “Sei bella.”
“No hitting on my friends, Marcello,” Billie warned. “Or I’ll send your ass back to that little village you call home in Italy.”
I wasn’t sure Marcello had even heard his boss. He and Mia were locked in one hell of a serious gaze. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“Earth to Marcello,” Billie said. When he didn’t budge, she stuck two fingers from each hand in her mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle.
That did the trick. Marcello let go of Mia’s hand and waved goodbye.
Billie rolled her eyes playfully. “Bye, guys. I’ll text you soon about drinks, Dev.”
“Okay, great.”
Mia made it to the door, but abruptly stopped. “Wait! Marcello!”
He turned.
“Are there any cliffs in your village in Italy?”
“Yes. Of course. Many. I live in Positano. Very, how you say…mountainous?”
“Any chance you own a giant yacht?”
Marcello smiled. “A yacht? No.”
I chuckled and pushed the door open. “Let’s go, crazy lady…”
CHAPTER 22
Devyn
To think it started out as a normal Sunday. Heath and Hannah were at the Y, and I was having some alone time, grateful for the quiet.
Everything changed when the phone rang, interrupting my peaceful window-watching and coffee.
“Hello?” I answered.
An automated voice came on the line, asking if I wanted to accept a collect call from a correctional facility.
My heart sank.I just knew.
After I accepted it, I heard her voice, which sounded strained.
“Devyn…”
I blinked. “Mom?”
“I’m in big trouble. I need your help.”
“Where the hell are you?”
“I’m in jail—in Boston.”
It should’ve surprised me, but it didn’t.
“What happened?”
