I turned my head to the left and saw several men, all good looking, heading up toward the beach. Two came from the side stairs up toward the restaurant, presumably from the boardwalk. They had that look to them. Polished. Sophisticated. And they were led in by an enormous man in a light-colored suit. I tensed. His walk was familiar. Was that one of Massimo's men?
“Graciella, why don't we head to the ladies' room? We can freshen up, and then we can go meet your guy, okay?"
She shook her head. "No, he's here."
I glanced around again, trying to look for which man she meant. My stomach sank as the man in the light suit pushed closer. My skin went clammy, and my heart started to beat fast. Too fast.
“I'm actually excited for you to meet him. I've told him a lot about you."
"What did you tell him?"
"That I’ve made a new friend and her husband. And I wanted a love like that."
"Oh, that's sweet."
The man approached, and I knew instinctively that I’d seen him before. I couldn't breathe, and alarm bells were ringing in my head.
As he approached the table, I frantically reached for my purse to pull my gun. I knew I couldn't have a shootout right there. I knew that was against protocol. Fuck, I didn't want to sound alarms, but I had to. I grabbed my phone quickly and then said to Graciella, "Hey, let's take a selfie before he gets here."
She groaned. "Oh my God, my face."
"Hey, you're the one who declined to freshen up."
I leaned over quickly and angled the phone as if I was shooting us and grabbed several photos of the man approaching us. I quickly tucked away my phone and then searched for my exit, but the men that had come up from the boardwalk were blocking them all.
My only shot was going to be to the fucking front door, and if he was smart, he would have that exit blocked too.
It was either the beach, which offeredno security, or the front door. I scooted to the edge of my seat, ready. Waiting as Graciella smiled up at the man as he approached.
“Darling." His voice was velvet.
I knew that voice. My stomach pitched, and I fought to keep down the bits of egg and toast I’d just eaten. She stood and wound her arms around the neck of the devil. I wanted to tell her run. I wanted to tell her he was not her friend. He was the enemy. But Graciella, poor, sweet Graciella, was winding her arms around the man who killed my parents. Drake Webster. The right-hand man of Antonio Igno.
Fucking hell.
I tried to duck my head. “I'll just leave you two lovebirds alone."
But that voice, smooth as silk and cold as ice, said, "Oh, don't run off. I didn't mean to interrupt your breakfast. Why don't you introduce me to your friend, Graciella?"
Her laugh was high pitched and bubbly. "This is my friend I was telling you about, Saffron King. She's here with her husband."
I still had my sunglasses on, and I prayed that they gave me some coverage, but I knew they didn't give me enough. I was the spitting image of my mother. He would know. One look at me, and our whole mission was over. All this time we'd been working Graciella, Drake Webster had been working us.
He took his aviators off, his bright blue eyes shiny as always. And then he stuck his hand out. "Any friend of Graciella's is a friend of mine. I’m Drake."
For a long sickening moment, all I could do was stare at his hand, willing the bile to stay down, willing myself to have the courage and strength to stare him in the eye and spit. To hurl myself at him and call him a murderer in front of all these people. But I couldn't do any of that. All I could do was stare.
Graciella bumped my shoulder. "Saffron, this is Drake. Say hi," she laughed nervously.
I swallowed hard and stood, sticking my hand in his. “It's a pleasure to meet you."
The moment I spoke, his brows furrowed. "Have we met?"
I shook my head. “I don't think so. Actually, you know what, Graciella? I’m just going to head to the ladies. I'll be right back."
"All right. Hurry back. Drake and I want some time alone, and that doesn't work if you’re not here."
Right, she wanted to use me. "Maybe you should come with me."