Connor sighed. “Fine.”
“She’s paying her bill from lunch right now. Follow her, see where she goes.”
Connor didn’t argue. He’d brought his motorcycle today, so he hopped on and rode around to the front of the building just as Alessia was getting into her little white Mini Cooper. It was easy to follow her as she drove across town, but he had to wonder where she was heading. They’d crossed into the part of the city controlled by the Italians when she turned down a street in a bad neighborhood. There were potholes in the street and all of the buildings in this area were old and in poor condition. It wasn’t the worst part of the city, but it wasn’t where he’d expect to see Alessia, with her dressy clothing and designer purse. She stuck out like a sore thumb as she parked in front of a tall brick building and got out.
But she’d obviously been here before, wherever they were. Her steps were sure and her attention focused on the building as she walked toward it. He watched her go inside, wondering what the place was. There was no sign on the outside, but it was clearly a commercial property.
He waited a moment before following her inside. There wasn’t much in the lobby of the building, with its grimy linoleum flooring and fluorescent lighting. The elevator was directly ahead, and he stood in front of it, watching the digital readout at the top that told him where it was. The thing stopped on the fourth floor, so he called it back down to him and went up to the same location, assuming that he’d find Alessia there.
Stepping out, he found himself in a hallway. There were doors on each side, but the only one with a label was near the end of the hall, where a small plaque on the wall labeled it as the location of the suicide hotline.
Connor stood there for a moment, staring at the sign. Surely, this wasn’t where Alessia went?
With few other options, he decided to at least check it out. Opening the door, he found himself looking into a large, open office space with cubicles set up where a dozen people were sitting with headsets on. There was a murmur of voices, but the general atmosphere was subdued. Some people walked around, drinking coffee or talking to each other, clearly taking a break.
Alessia was sitting in a cubicle already, her eyes focused on a computer screen as she spoke into the headset. He wondered if she had a script there that she was reading from.
Hell, he wondered what she was doing here at all. The daughter of the cruel don of the Italian mafia spent her free time volunteering at a suicide hotline? What were the chances?
There was a bulletin board hanging on the wall nearby, and Connor stepped into the room, pretending to look at it. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself now. The shock of what Alessia was up to was throwing him off.
Should he stick around outside or leave and report to Owen that she definitely didn’t run straight to her dad about their meeting? He was still mulling it over when a soft hand closed on his arm just above his elbow and spun him around.
Alessia had spotted him and was fuming as she stood in front of him. Something about the sight of fire in her eyes and her hands balled into fists caused an unexpected reaction in his body. His cock stirred in his pants, and he suddenly wanted to pull her thin body against him, to kiss those pursed lips until she melted. Or maybe she’d nip at him in anger.
God, that thought just turned him on more.
What the hell was wrong with him? This woman was the enemy.
“What the fuck?” she asked, her voice a low hiss. “Did you follow me here?”
“Of course, I did,” he said, not bothering to lie. Nothing but the truth would be believable, anyway. “I wanted to see if you were reporting how the meeting went to your father.”
“Come on,” she said, pulling at his arm. He could have easily stayed in place, her attempts to move him were so weak, but he was curious, so he let her lead him out of the room and through the door across the hall. This room was empty except for a few broken desk chairs.
Alessia released him to shut the door behind them and pointed her manicured finger at him, the bright red easy to see even in the low lighting coming from only about half of the fluorescent lights that were working.
“You are way out of line coming here,” she said, anger dripping from her words. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I’m one of the guys you just asked for help. I have a right to know who I’m getting involved with before you get us killed or something.”
“Well, now you know, so just leave.”
“You volunteer here? Why?”
Alessia crossed her arms over her chest and clucked her tongue. “Why? Seriously? Is it really that strange for someone to give a shit about others?”
“Most of the time, yeah.”
“I feel bad for you for thinking that.”
She could feel bad all she wanted. He could tell that she was hiding something from him, something about this place that she didn’t want to tell him.
Fine.she could hold onto her secret motivation for now.
“How often are you here?”
He wasn’t even sure why he asked. It didn’t matter. But he was curious.
