“Yes?” he asked, holding out the bottle.
“I’ll have a glass.” She pulled out two stemless wine glasses, tapped one with her fingernail. “Acrylic.”
“Unbreakable,” he replied.
She pulled silverware from a drawer. He collected cloth napkins, suggested they eat on the stern. With their heatedplates of food in hand, he gestured toward the back of the yacht. Once outside, he waited for her to sit before easing onto the leather bench across from her.
He was well aware she was the enemy, sent by someone to flush out his illegal activities. Illegal activities that had to do with his crime family,nothis assassinations.
Regardless of what they’d sent her to find, she would find nothing.
She raised her glass.
“Salud,” he said.
After tapping their goblets, they sipped. The wine ignited his taste buds, and he savored his private label before swallowing it down.
“Nothing better than a glass of wine on my boat with a beautiful woman.”
“Especially after you’ve been zhuzhed,” she replied before slicing into the chicken. “Mmm,” she murmured as she chewed. “Delicious.”
“My chef is very talented.” He forked the kale, slid the crisp vegetable into his mouth.
She leaned back, glanced around. “Do you entertain here often?”
With a slice of chicken poised at his mouth, he said, “Are you asking as Simone the spy, Simone the personal shopper, or Simone my dinner companion?” He tried the chicken. As expected, cooked to perfection.
“Just Simone,” she replied. “I’m not trying to trick you into giving anything away.”
“I’ll take you at your word.”That’s not happening. “I entertain friends, family, and business associates on the Omega. She’s very special to me, so I don’t invite just anyone.”
“She’s stunning.”
“She’s a well-crafted vessel that affords me the luxury I’ve earned.” He collected her hand, kissed her soft skin. “You’restunning.”
Though composed, she appeared a little uneasy.
“Never slept with a mark before, have you?” he asked.
“No.”
“Tell me what you do when you’renotworking.”
“I like to cook, but nothing like this,” she said. “My parents live in South Carolina and I visit when I can. My brother and his husband are in Tysons. I like hanging with them.”
“What does your brother do?”
“He runs a computer software company in McLean. He and his husband used to breed German Shepherds.”
“Beautiful dogs. We had them as kids, for protection.”
“Why?”
“Because my dad and uncle ran the Santini syndicate, but you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“I did.” She sipped the wine. “Now, my brother breeds French Bulldogs. When they moved to their Tysons’ condo, they decided a smaller dog would work better.”
He appreciated that she asked nothing about the Santini crime family.
