The washing machine is still dragging on and there is still another load to do, and I realize I am going to be stuck here all afternoon.
I sigh and lean back in the not-too-uncomfortable plastic chair.
I hear a voice that is oddly familiar and open my eyes to see a man walking past me in a dark blue suit. A man that could be a younger version of Vincent Vece.
The similarity is uncanny.
The man raises his hand towards the lady behind the counter. “Is my dad here yet?” He calls out.
“No, Mr. Vece. He’s not here yet. Are you going upstairs?”
“Yes, please send him up when he gets here.”
I am frozen in place, listening to the conversation as though it was the latest breaking news.Mr. Vece. As in Vincent Vece’s son.
Well. That explains why he’s so hot. He looks around my age - which makes him too young for me considering my daddy issues always lead me to be more attracted to older guys.
But what is he doing here?
Also - crap - did he just ask that lady if his dad was here yet? So, Vincent is coming here? Shit. Dammit. Crap.
I stand up, unsure if I should just haul my laundry out halfway through the cycle or leave it there and come back later, hoping no one has stolen it or dumped it on the floor.
I bite my lip as I hover between choices.
I’m leaving.
I’ll take the risk.
I turn towards the door and the lady behind the reception desk calls out. “Lady, you should stay with your laundry. You must remove it from the drum as soon as?—”
“I know. I’ll be back I just have to?—”
And I turn and walk straight into Vincent.
“I just have to—” I mumble as his scent washes over me and sends my mind racing back to all the delicious things he did to my body the other night.
“My sneaky little raven who likes to steal treasure that doesn’t belong to her.” He smirks.
Shit.
He knows.
Obviously,he knows - it was a shit load of money.
“I - can explain.” I say boldly, grinning up at him.
“Is that so?” he muses.
“Ok - I can’t explain.” I huff, pulling my mouth to the side. “I wanted a coffee; I wanted to get a takeaway coffee.” I say.
“And - was it the most delicious coffee you’ve ever tasted - at that price I mean?” Why is he smiling like that? From everything my mother told me about the mafia I am quite sure I’m about to have my hand chopped off in some underground dungeon. Although, what I know about Vincent it might suggest he enjoys chopping off hands and that would be the reason for his smile.
“The coffee was amazing. I’ve got to go. It was nice to see you again, Vincent.”
He wraps his strong fingers around my arm, locking me in place. “Where do you have to go in such a hurry?” He asks, pulling me close, whispering the words against my ear and causing a shiver of warning to run down my spine.
“I’m job hunting. I have an interview.” It’s only half a lie.
