“I don’t know, this looks pretty good to me,” Ana pipes up.
“Anything alcoholic looks good to you,” I tease.
The food comes and, thankfully, I recognize most of the dishes. Even better, all of it looks mouthwatering. I pick up a stuffed pepper and a tortilla quarter, polishing both off quickly.
“See?” Jacob says, his tone triumphant as I go back for more and Ana fills her plate. I roll my eyes and nod.
“You did good.” I grin.
We keep eating and they keep bringing new dishes out. I can’t get over how much Jacob ordered, but I’m more surprised that between the three of us we leave all the plates empty. Sitting back in my chair, I sigh. I should be embarrassed at how full I am right now.
“So, did you end up making that dude jealous?” Jacob asks, popping the last garlic prawn into his mouth.
“Ooh, who’s this?” teases Ana, her eyes lighting up.
“He was jealous, all right,” I say. “Speaking of which, I better get going. I was supposed to meet him after training.”
Standing up, I hug them both and try to pay the bill, but Jacob insists that he’s covering it.
“You can get the next one,” he promises.
I have to admit I love the sound of next one. I’m glad we worked things out.
As I leave the bar, I check my phone. My eyes widen when I see fifteen missed calls, all from Pietro. Quickly, I press RECALL, my heart pounding. Something must be wrong.
“Where the hell are you?” he growls, answering the phone.
“I-I just had dinner with some friends,” I stutter, shocked at his reaction. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong is I’ve been trying to get you for hours, Luce. You scared the hell out of me. I thought something had happened.”
“I’m fine. Geez, calm down.” He is completely overreacting and I have no idea why. This is a side of him I’ve never seen before and, frankly, I don’t like it. “I’m allowed to go out occasionally, Pietro. I don’t need your permission.”
“I’m sorry. I just—”
He sighs, then curses loudly.
“What is it?” I press, creasing my brow. “You’re seriously freaking me out.”
“I got a call from your dad. He’s concerned that someone might be after you.”
“What?” I laugh. “My father has a habit of jumping to conclusions, Pietro. You of all people should know that by now. Do you have any idea how often I was escorted home from school by a full security entourage because he had a feeling someone might try to hurt me?”
“That may be so, but I think it’s better to be safe than sorry, don’t you?” he asks, a hint of irritability in his voice. “I mean, it only needs to be true once.”
“And after a few dozen false alarms, it’s a chance I’m willing to take,” I argue. “Listen, I appreciate what you’re doing for me, but I don’t need you to protect me. I’m a big girl. And it’s not like I go out every night. This was one dinner with some friends from the company, the first outing I’ve had in weeks.”
“Can I come around and talk about this with you in person?” he pleads.
“You’re welcome to come around, but you’re not going to change my mind.”
—
I’m less than shocked when I see Pietro waiting by my door when I get home. He gets to his feet and offers me a half smile. I open the door and invite him in.
“I’m sorry if you feel I overreacted,” he begins.
“You did overreact,” I correct. I walk over to the fridge and grab two cans of soda, tossing one in his direction. He catches it and sets it down on the counter next to him.