How odd.
Tony rarely messaged her.
Even stranger, he asked Gina to stop in at Rossi’s on her way to the train. Something was up, and it wasn’t theSpaghetti ai Carciofihe said he’d made especially for her to take to work for dinner. He’d done nothing like that before, either. Was it a peace offering? As if it could make up for his bullshit. But she loved artichokes, dammit, and that creamy, lemon-infused pasta sauce was her weakness.
The fucker knows it, too.
Gina was of a mind to tell him what he could do with his spaghetti, but why waste a perfectly delicious meal? Besides, come two in the morning, she’d be starving. Then, she’d be kicking herself in the ass for having to make do with a wilted salad from the hospital’s cafeteria—if she even had the time to take a break, that is.
Most often, physicians scheduled their inductions on Tuesdays or Thursdays, but since it was Friday, the shift shouldn’t be too crazy. Unless the moon was full—crazy shit always seemed to happen then. Or if the charge nurse assigned her to a mom who failed her induction and needed a C-section.That would mean circulating in the OR and hours spent in the recovery room afterward. She’d be lucky to grab a crummy cafeteria salad then, so she might as well take her brother up on his offer.
At the height of the dinner rush when she got there, Rossi’s was jam-packed. Her dad and Teo slid pizzas into brick wood-fired ovens while Nick manned the counter. A takeout and delivery establishment, the only seating was some stools along a ledge looking out the window, where patrons could scarf down a quick slice, and a few small tables. Tony sat at one of them, and he wasn’t alone.
“Gina.” He glanced up at her, pulling out the empty chair beside him. “You remember my old pal, Curtis, don’t you?”
She didn’t.
“CJ,” the man corrected him, extending his hand with a smarmy grin. “Hello again, Buttercup.”
Is this dude for real?
“Excuse me?”
“You were prancing around in a Powerpuff Girls getup the last time I saw you.”
“Oh.” She sat down, heat flooding into her cheeks. “Yeah, well, Buttercup was the one most like me.”
“Because of her dark hair?”
“No, she was the tough one.”
Who was this guy, and what was he doing here? Amused by her discomfort, he chuckled. “With all those brothers, I guess you’d have to be.”
“CJ went to school with me and the Venery boys,” Tony explained. “I’m surprised you don’t remember him. He hung out with us all the time.”
Her gaze traveled back to the man in question. His dark hair was pulled back into a small knot at the base of his skull. Shifty gray eyes. Prominent hawk-like nose. He wasn’t unattractive,but Gina wouldn’t say he was especially good-looking either. Maybe he’d changed a lot since she was a kid, because she still couldn’t place him.
“I was their manager until a few months ago,” he said as if that should somehow impress her. “Made them who they are, and then they fire me? Ungrateful fucks.”
What did he expect her to say? Gina glanced at her brother, and he shrugged. “Sorry to hear that, but unless you made the music for them, I’d say they made themselves.”
“And what do you know about the industry, huh?”
Not a fucking thing.
“They’re talented musicians, I’ll give you that, but there’s plenty of kick-ass bands out there who never get to see the inside of a recording studio, let alone sell out arena tours. See, I’m the one who made that happen.”
Okayyy.
“I’m gonna get your dinner,bambina.” With a squeeze to her shoulder, Tony stood. “Be right back.”
“It’s who and what you know.” CJ settled back in his chair, a booted foot casually crossing his thigh. “Negotiation is a skill, and I’m a master at it. They’ll be sorry.”
“I know nothing about all that.” Hoping to end the conversation, Gina looked down at her phone.
“Of course you don’t.” He leaned in, demanding her attention. His breath tickled her ear. “So, a little birdie told me you’ve been hooking up with Matt McCready.”
“Oh, really?” Feigning interest, she forced a laugh. “Wait, don’t tell me. Let me guess. That little birdie is my brother, right?”
