Heat burned a path up my neck as shame sank in that I’d done what so many others did when they heard my nationality. Mafia movies had once been all the rage, sensationalizing organized crime, primarily focused on Italians—feeding into the stereotype that all Italians were mobsters. Granted, my family was, but not all those with names ending in vowels were.
Repeat after me, Gemma: Not all Russians are bratva.
“Sorry,” I mumbled under my breath.
When he reached tentatively for my hand, I met him halfway, an additional form of apology on my part.
“I’m not even sure what you’re apologizing for.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I shook my head.
Gently, he tugged me closer, curling his arm around my waist so I was forced to rest my head on his shoulder. The position was intimate, and usually, my first instinct would be to pull away, to not let myself be vulnerable, but I was so damn tired of fighting. Was it so wrong to want to feel safe after a lifetime of hyperawareness, expecting danger and pain at every turn?
“Already forgotten.” Sasha’s lips brushed against my temple. Now, where were we?” He paused for a moment before getting back to his story. “So, Dad liked his runs. One night, he went out but wasn’t back by the time I was getting ready for bed. Mom was worried, so she packed me in the car and drove around the neighborhood. We made it about two streets over when we saw the flashing lights.”
My stomach dropped. “Oh God.”
His grip on me tightened like he needed an anchor to share the rest. “He was pronounced dead at the scene. They’d already taken him away and had the driver in custody.”
I turned my face into his chest, my words muffled. “I can’t imagine.”
“The first time I ever saw a grown man cry was inside a courtroom as they handed out the sentence to the drunk driver who’d hopped the curb, killing my dad. He was filled with remorse, not making excuses for his actions, as he apologized in front of the judge and all those gathered. I guess he’d gotten fired from his job earlier that day and went on a bender, afraid to come home to his wife. His drinking that day not only took a life, it ruined his, as well. He didn’t get to watch his kids grow up, and the man he killed didn’t either.”
With my heart breaking for all those involved, I turned to peek at his face. “How can you still be smiling after living through that?”
Thumb stroking my cheek, he replied, “It’s because of that.”
“What? That doesn’t make any sense?”
“I made two decisions that day. The first was that I would never let a drop of alcohol touch my lips. The second was more of a vow—to remain positive about anything that came my way from that point forward.”
“I don’t understand you,” I whispered in awe of the maturity of a ten-year-old boy who had grown into this happy-go-lucky, albeit slightly unhinged man.
“The whole situation gave me a new perspective on life. I don’t live with regrets because I’ve seen how quickly it all can change on a dime.”
Wryly, I mused, “Yet, you’re out on a date with a woman who serves liquor for a living.”
“It doesn’t bother me. If it bothers you, quit.”
A scoff flew past my lips at his flippant tone. “Easier said than done.”
His blue eyes stared at me with an intensity that had me squirming in my seat. “Do you like tending bar, Gemma? Is that what brings you joy?”
“No one derives joy from tending bar, Sasha.”
“Then why do you do it?” The question was asked with sincerity.
“Because if I don’t, I can’t afford to pay my mortgage, my utilities, or eat. I have a limited skill set, so I’m not qualified to do much else, and the tips behind the bar are a hell of a lot higher than those of a restaurant server.”
Nodding, he declared, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re making a living the best way you know how.”
I blew out a heavy breath. “How am I supposed to stand there, wondering if the next drink I pour is going to be the cause of an innocent life being taken too soon?”
Arching a dark blond eyebrow, Sasha asked, “Are you in the habit of overserving your patrons?”
“Of course not.” I bristled at the insinuation.
“Then you can rest at night with a clear conscience.”
