Donny slowly moves his head side to side. “Mine are drugs and women. Hers is so much worse.” He shudders. “Karaoke.”
Alana wraps her arms around her body. “Dear God, what have I done?” That’s the thing about her. I can’t tell when she’s joking or not.
My cousin adds, “Maybe I’ll start off with the dog walker.”
“The fuck you will.” My gut reaction shocks me, and everyone else. I clear my throat. “If you’re making me keep the dog, then she’s my employee, and you have to keep your fingers and dick out of anyone I pay.”
I can’t figure out why I feel like this. I met her for thirty seconds. Not only is she a complete stranger, she’s not my type. At all. But the knee jerk reaction confuses me. As does the nagging feeling I know her, I just don’t know from where.
Now Alana, Uncle Gio, and Donny are having an eyebrow conversation. I swear novels could be written by their glances alone.
“Whatever,” I say. “It’s bad for business. It makes everything more complicated.”
Uncle Gio stands and motions to the door. “Come on. We’ll swing by the liquor store on the way home.”
Donny grasps my thigh and uses it to push himself off the couch. He’s such an annoying fucker.
The dog jumps down from the ledge to get pets from Uncle Gio but turns away from Donny. “Jerk-ass dog.”
They both linger in the hallway. There’s a finality to it. Donny runs his fingers over the dent in the wall where he and Izzy were fighting and crashed into it. Uncle Gio straightens a picture of Mary on the wall. Before it can get too emotional, Donny says, “Let’s go get shitfaced.”
The door closes, and it’s Alana and me once again. Alana isn’t a part of the mob, or any specific criminal organization. She holds her own power, fear, and respect. And yes, she did destroy an entire drug supply in under two hours, but she also gave everyone ample warning. No one took her seriously, and that was our mistake.
“Are you going to be okay?” Her voice is soft. I’m used to hearing it with a razor’s edge of danger laced along every word, and her sincerity throws me off.
I shrug, because my throat starts to tighten. “I don't know why she left me with a dog.”
“Your aunt is right. If the only secret she kept from you was the dog, she must’ve trusted you with all the other secrets.”
I’m familiar with notes about our enemies, and if Aunt Dawn had said she was looking for a key to the storage locker, I would have told her it was in the secret drawer in the kitchen cabinet. But a dog is different. It’s alive. It requires care and responsibility. Hell, they need yards, right? And she was always complaining about my penthouse in the city.
‘What home doesn’t have walls? Do you piss in the kitchen?’
I would explain I had walls, and a bedroom, but it was an open concept space. She didn’t want to hear it. Even when I brought her over, she frowned and said this wasn’t a home. It was a place to sleep.
And she was right.
My phone beeps, and it’s the alarm for Club Midnight. Angela, the manager, clocked in. The rest of the staff should be there soon.
“Hey, it’s karaoke night at one of my bars. I’ll get you and Izzy all set up with VIP shit.”
Alana smirks. She’s been doing that more lately—never a full smile, but less frowny than normal. “You think I would go anywhere and not get VIP?”
She stands and motions for me to come over. I don’t take orders from anyone, but I’ll take her suggestions. She wraps her arms around me. Damn, she’s a deadly menace to society and a good hugger.
“If you need anything, call.”
She smells nice, but she feels wrong in my arms. We would never work. Always trying to top one another, in every possible way.
“How long can I leave the dog alone for?”
“About eight hours or so. But Jenny takes care of the important stuff—taking him out, feeding him… You get all the fun and snuggles.”
I glare at the dog, his pointy ears twitching as he focuses on the world outside the window.
Alana pushes her hair back over her shoulder and checks her phone. “I’ve got to get going. I’ve got new client interviews, and there’s an award show security recon my guys are doing.” She slides her phone back into her pocket and pats my shoulder. “I’ll check in with you later.”
Kingston hops down and follows her to the door. “You take good care of him,” Alana says, but I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or the dog.
