Scarlett jumped, a bite of salad just to her open mouth, when I entered the kitchen.
“Tickets.” I lifted a brow. “O’Brian.”
She shrugged and finished her bite. “For Beauty and the Beast. O’Brian was one of the cops at the bar when—” She waved her napkin.
“You greased his palm.”
“No! More like sweetened the pot and rushed the process. His wife is a fan of the ballet.” She shrugged. “We’ve been sold out.”
“Do not believe her,fratello.” Romeo waltzed into the kitchen, sticking his finger in the middle of Scarlett's bun and calling her bun head. “The tickets worked better than the bonddenaro. Your wife is as slipppppery as ananguilla. She is no doubt a Fausti.”
She slapped at him and he laughed, all raspy, trying to be sexy. He poured Juliette a glass of Chianti and took it to the table.
“Is it like that now?” I said, copying her tone from when she had used those same words against me.
“Like what, Brando?”
This situation was starting to feel a lot like déjà vu.
“Did you have O’Brian kiss your signet ring after you made the deal?”
She laughed so hard that the bite she had just taken lodged in her throat. I had to pound her on the back to dislodge it. She guzzled water afterward, shaking her head.
“I wanted my man back.” Her voice came out rough. “It didn't matter the cost.”
“Bonnie,” I said, giving her a kiss. She tasted of fresh green things and garlic, and she smelled of roses frozen in winter. “You’re leading me astray.”
“Speaking of Bonnie.” She dug in the bag by her ankle. Finally, she pulled out her phone. She lifted it up, showing me a photograph on the screen: she and I at the event we attended the other night. Her arm was locked with mine, both of us looking forward, faces serious. I had titled it “Clyde & his Bonnie.”
“Good picture,” I said.
“Did you see the amount of likes it got?”
“Yeah.” And the comments. All from women.
“We'll talk about it later.” She took another bite of salad, her eyes closing at the pleasure she found in her food.
“You have my new password.”
“Not your new one.” She took a sip of water.
“Easy. ‘Scarlett does it better.’ All one word.”
“Do you have mine?”
“Brando does it better.” I had all of her passwords, and she knew damn well.
“Sixty-nine,” she added and drank more water as if she hadn't just said that. “But the actual numbers, not spelled out.”
“Watch your mouth, Scarlett Fausti.” I gave her a firm slap on the behind.
“Ooh,” she said. “Don't threaten me with a good time, Fausti.”
“A monster. That's what I've created.”
“I’m not scared of monsters!” Mary said, popping into the kitchen.
Violet’s hair was gold. Mary’s hair was so light that it was almost white. But they both shared dark, thick eyebrows, which made their eyes seem even more blue.
