Page 4 of Matteo

“You’d think he cooked it,” Rio mutters, as everyone moves to the table, exclaiming on how great everything smells, and heaping praise on Dex and Rio.

“This looks delicious. Thank you guys. This is lovely.” She looks at us all with appreciation.

The steak has been sliced into strips and there's another large platter of fries, as well as a few small bowls of garlic butter.

I’m about to make a move when I feel a tug on my leather bracelets. It’s Brooke. She’s running her tiny fingers all over them. I bend down and ask about her rabbit.

“How’s Mr. Whiskers?”

“He's doing good!” she cries. “He pooped all over his cage today. He poops a lot. Daddy says rabbits are poop machines.” She twists her hands together, testing to see my reaction to her pooping story. I wrinkle my nose in disgust.

“That’s a lot of poop. Smelly,” I exclaim, waving my hand across my nose.

“Not me!” Brooke cries. “I don’t smell. Mr. Whiskers does.” She giggles, then stops as her eyes take in my bare arms. “Why do you have drawings on your arms?” Her fingers trace my tattoos. “They’re pretty.”

I nod. “Thank you.” I don’t answer her question.

“Daddy says it hurts to get that done.”

I open my mouth to answer, but Jett beats me to it. “It’s so painful, sport. Don't you be thinking about anything like that.”

She pouts. “But they look so pretty!”

“You think they look pretty?” Jett makes a face like my tattoos repulse him. “I don't want you getting these things all over your skin, princess. Understood?”

Brooke nods, reluctantly.

He’s acting like a dictator. “Not even when she's older?” I'm pretty sure Jett was able to do whatever he wanted, no matter how hard the old man would have tried to rein him in.

“Brother.” Dex puts some wine bottles on the table. “Surely you’re going to let your daughter do whatever she wants when she's older?”

“Define ‘whatever’.” A muscle in Jett's jaw twitches. He points a finger at Dex. “Do not go putting ideas in her head. She's only five.”

Brooke stares up at me sadly. I wink at her. “He might change his mind when you're older,” I whisper.

“The old man's been asking about the tech issues,” Dex informs me.

I stiffen. “Not this again. Can you guys let me eat in peace? Like I said, I'm on it.”

“I know, brother. Thought I’d let you know.” He sits down. “Tuck in everyone.”

“You’d think this dude was the only one who cooked,” Rio complains, waiting for the ladies to finish plating their food.

“You helped. I can’t say you didn’t.” Dex looks around the table, a mischievous grin on his face.

“You’re going to be like that, huh? What about the second platter of meat?” he glares at Dex, before getting up to fetch it. He comes back with another platter of sliced steak. I’m practically salivating now. The buttery, garlic smell, and the sliced meat are enough to make me weep tears of joy.

Murmurs of approval go around the table.

“For a moment there I didn’t think we’d have enough,” I remark, heaping food onto my plate.

“Sure you got enough there?” Dex asks.

I grab a few more slices. “I have now.” Been waiting long enough.

“He doesn’t trust anyone to do their jobs, and he’s onto you,” Dex reminds me.

“Thanks. I heard you the first time.” I wish he would shut up and just eat. What is wrong with this guy? I stare at the slice of buttery steak on my fork, bring it to my mouth and inhale. Then I eat it. It’s awesome.