Gio

“So, tell me. What is it?”

“Just got a lot going on.”

“A boy then?”

My cheeks flush at the accusation. “Not a boy.”

“Ah, you forget I raised three girls. It’s a boy.” He takes a big bite of his Jello. “I know these things.”

“Fine.” I mutter. “But it’s not what you think.”

“Is he good to you?” He asks, serious now.

I laugh softly. “To be determined.”

“If he’s not, you let me know.”

“Will do, old man.” I smile.

Yeah right.

Like he could take down Gio DelGado.

I’m late when I walk into the warehouse. The man left at the bar to drive me was antsy when I arrived there after finishing my shift at the nursing home.

“Skip’s not gonna like this,” he muttered to me as we got into his car.

Apparently, I am not allowed to know the location of the warehouse, nor is it to be discussed on the phone or via text. My driver made that clear to me on the way over as he checked his rearview mirror repeatedly to make sure we weren’t being followed.

Whatever I’ve gotten myself into clearly is dangerous.

“It’s 7:10,” Gio announces when I enter. He doesn’t even turn around to look at me. Just glances at his watch and announces the time. “You’re late.” he says.

When I don’t respond to defend myself, he finally turns around and takes in my appearance. I’m still wearing my baby pink scrubs that signify I’m a nurse's aid and not a full-fledged nurse and my blonde hair is pulled up into a loose ponytail. I imagine I look as exhausted as I feel. After classes this morning and then an eight-hour shift, I’m worn out, but I didn’t think Gio would care much if I told him I was too tired to work for him tonight.

“Anything to say?” Gio asks, raising a single eyebrow.

“Um, sorry?”

“And?”

And what? I have no idea what the right answer is.

He looks sinfully handsome standing there. His dark hair is slicked back, and he looks like he’s ready to work out in a pair of black Nike joggers and a white t-shirt.

“I’ll call next time?” I question, hoping that’s a good enough answer to appease him.

“Good girl.” he turns away from me, putting his attention back on the contraption in front of him. “Next time, wear tighter fitting clothes.”

I can feel my face flush, pink rising to my cheeks. I feel like a child. “What? Why in the world?”

He chuckles at my discomfort. “You’ll need them to fit through this.” he gestures to the contraption in front of him. It’s some kind of long metal box with twists and turns. “Your scrubs are going to get caught on something, but it’s fine for tonight.”

“Oh,” I mutter.

He waves me over. The warehouse is large, with what looks to be an office in the back corner, high ceilings, and a cement floor. Charlie and Frank are here plus another man I haven’t met yet. The one who escorted me stayed outside, was he guarding the place?

“Charlie, tell her,” he gestures to the silver metal that was wrapped in places with duct tape.