My stomach turns, and I swivel in my chair to face Frank, giving Dennis my back. “You said you wanted to talk. It must be important for you to track me down here. What do you want to talk about?” I ask. My voice is deceptively light, but I know Frank isn’t fooled.
“I think you should stay at my house for a while. Rachel needs you there. A lot of preparations and parties. You’re better at that than she is. Also, you always cheer her up. I want her happy when we start having more guests from New York.”
“Of course, I’ll always be around to support Rachel. But I have school and performances. Auditions in New York at the end of the semester. I actually think Rachel and I should get a place in Manhattan. Imagine what a great backdrop that would be for her photographs?”
“She’ll be moving soon enough. I want to enjoy the rest of my time with her. Best for everyone if you stay with us. There’s no reason that would be a problem, right?”
“I have a place.”
“I know. You pay for it with some of the money I’ve given you.”
I swallow. “I pay for it with loans.”
“Who cosigned for the apartment?”
I feel the blood draining from my face. “If you don’t want to do that anymore, I’ll understand. I told you that.”
“No,” he says with an oily smile. “That’s what family does. When your mom got sick, I paid your tuition. No problem. And when you need someone to cosign on something. No problem. Now I need a favor. And you say...?”
“I’ll pay you back. I’ve always said I will.”
“I don’t want money. And you haven’t got it anyway, have you?”
“Any idea what interest would be on a loan Frank made to you four years ago?” Dennis asks. “If we’re talking Palermo standard rates.”
Now Dennis is an expert on Frank’s business? I feel dizzy and sick to my stomach. I’d been feeling guilty for not calling Dennis back and now he’s here with Frank, trying to push me into moving out of my apartment? “Frank, I want to help—”
“Good. I knew you would. It’s loud in here. Let’s get going,” he says, sending a text.
“Wait,” I say as he tries to hustle me from my seat. “No, I have to pay, and my stuff is at my friend’s place. I need to go by there—”
“Dennis, go cover the tab. Meet us outside.”
Frank’s bodyguard takes my arm in a vise grip and pulls me from the stool. “Keep moving,” he says, his breath hot and stale against my face.
I try to resist, but he twists my arm, and before I know what’s happening, we’re on the street.
“Don’t,” I say, jerking away.
Frank shifts and sends another text.
“Let’s walk around, Mr. P.,” the bodyguard says.
Frank narrows his eyes. “No. You go around and see what the driver’s doing. Zoe and I will wait here.”
Frank puts a hand on my waist and pulls me against him. The bodyguard nods and hurries away. Dennis exits behind a cheerful group. They jostle me as they pass. I think about calling out, but what will I say? That I was forced to let them pay my bar bill? That my best friend’s dad is trying to get me to live with him rent-free? He’ll just say I got riled up for no reason. A misunderstanding. But he’ll never forget it and I’ll definitely pay for that. No one is ever allowed to bring the police into Frank’s business. We’ve all been warned.
I try to move a step to the side to free a path out of the bar, but Frank is gripping me too tightly.
“We should move that way,” I say.
“No, right here’s good. They can go around,” Frank says, his eyes scanning the street. “Call the car, Dennis.”
Dennis looks around sharply and then calls. It rings twenty times and goes to voicemail. Something’s wrong.
“Back inside,” Frank grounds out.
When we turn, I see Connor come around the corner. Dennis jerks to attention and Frank’s fingers dig into my ribs. I want to launch myself into C’s arms, but I can’t move. I’m being held in place.
