Epilogue
Dante
The city is alwaysbusy during lunch time. Cabs honk at every red light and I just know someone is arguing with a hot dog vendor somewhere on one of these corners.
I practically have to yell into my Apple Watch to call Leigh. But as usual, she answers on the second ring.
“Leigh.”
“You’re calling early,” she replies.
I can hear traffic on her end too through the ear piece.
“Miracles happen,” I say smugly. “Or maybe I just didn’t feel like getting stabbed beforedinner.”
She laughs softly. “Thatwouldcomplicate my plans for tonight.”
“I’d hate to disappoint the Bianchi’s.”
Sarcasm is my first language.
She chuckles under her breath, “You’ve not disappointed me yet. That’s what I like about you so much.”
I step around a couple tourists frozen in the middle of the sidewalk, staring up at buildings like they’re trying to count the floors. “Like’s a strong word.”
“And yet I utter it out loud.”
I pass a storefront window and catch my reflection.
Blacked out trench coat and matching suit. Hair freshly cut and styled. My chest still hurts like a bitch from being shot a few weeks ago, but you couldn’t tell that from the way I carry myself today.
“We still on for eight?” I ask, “Same place.”
“Of course,” she replies. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. You’re quite hilarious with your facial expressions as you pretend to enjoy that family.”
“Pretend?” I scoff. “I tolerate them very genuinely. For exactly three minutes.”
“That’s generous,” she states firmly.
“I’ve been working on myself. Well, my patience, to say the least.”
She pauses a moment before speaking again. “They’re bringing their eldest son tonight.”
I slow down and stop by a crosswalk pole. “That’s new. I thought he was busy over in L.A.”
“He wants to see who he’s dealing with,” she says. “Up close and personal.”
I grimace. “How personal are we talking?”
“Behave,” she adds, but I can practically hear her smiling.
“I always do.”
She clears her throat. “Are you walking or brooding?”
“Multitasking,” I mutter as I continue walking down the sidewalk.
“I knew it,” she murmurs. “Just don’t get distracted. We need them open to the idea of me taking over for my father. I can’t have them questioning things.”
