“I’m not quitting. Not yet, anyway.”
He nods once. “That’s fine, for now. But once you’ve met my family and you’re officially mine?—”
“Not yours. Not owned by you.”
“Not my toy?” A vicious, teasing little smirk. God, I hate how sexy I find him right now. “No, the wife of the Don doesn’t take graveyard waitressing shifts anymore.”
“You should probably ask her before you make statements like that.”
“Imagine how good it will feel to be here every day when Gem gets home from school. How much more time you will get with your sister before she leaves for college. You don’t need to kill yourself anymore.”
God, that’s tempting. He makes a fantastic point. The time with Gem alone will be worth it.
“Another time, okay? I’ll put in my notice. I just won’t hang them out to dry.”
“Admirable.”
“Call Gem a car and get her back to the apartment when she’s ready.” I slip past him before he can answer and gather my bag. I shove my keys in my pocket and hurry down the steps. Stellan doesn’t follow. I walk out into the evening and pause, turning back to look at the house.
This doesn’t make sense. A week ago I was living in a cheap, crappy apartment, barely making ends meet, struggling just to pay our bills.
Now my sister’s got an entire floor to herself in a gorgeous Victorian mansion.
“At least I’m not selling myself cheap,” I mutter as I force myself to hurry to catch the next bus.
STELLAN
The transition is probably more difficult for Kira and her sister. They’re moving into a strange man’s house in a totally different part of town. I don’t blame them for having some trouble getting used to this new arrangement.
But it’s not easy for me, either.
Kira isn’t stupid. She’ll play the game when the time comes. But my god, she’s going to make my life difficult right up to the very last second.
I shouldn’t pretend like I hate it.
Fact is, I like that she challenges me. Not many women do. Maybe that’s why I’ve barely dated over the years.
Kira’s different. She’s not some bored, dead-eyed model looking for nice vacations and plenty of coke. Kira’s been through real hell. She works hard, knows what she wants, and fights for it. I respect the hell out of that.
“You seem distracted tonight.” Frankie glances at me as I pull out from one of my family’s parking lots. He’s flipping through the money idly and making the count. Half legal, half not so much.
“Got shit on my mind.”
“Anything you want to talk about?”
“I’ll save it for my therapist.”
Frankie laughs. I don’t have many friends, but he’s probably the closest thing I’ve got. “Yeah, I can really see you on the couch baring your soul. ‘Listen, Dr. Freud, when I shot that man in the face, I got this strange feeling in my pants…’”
“Don’t be sick.”
“Just saying, you’ve been somewhere else tonight.”
I grunt and frown into the darkness. We’re headed to the next lot, out on the edge of town. This one doesn’t get much traffic and it’s normally our last stop for the night. “Do you know anything about Isak Vural?”
“Never heard the name.”
“Runs some Turks out of New York.”
