Entrapment (Morelli Family 7.5)

This time everything will be different. We are husband and wife. We are having our first child together. From day one, he will be there all the time with Dominic. Every night Dominic will be sleeping in the bedroom adjacent to ours. We will not be relying on Ju or Maria to do the heavy lifting—this time, it’s on us.

LAST WORDS

Last Words Prologue

Carly

“It was perfect. He’s perfect. He’s so handsome and polite and—and he opened the car door for me, and—I just, I can’t even tell you.”

I smile at that last bit. My beloved sister has been telling me for the last ten minutes about her marvelous coffee date with the most dashing man alive. I’d love to listen to her gab about her dream date for even longer, but the elevator doors open and it’s time to get my game face on, so I really need to wrap up this phone call.

“Laur, listen, I’m so excited for you and I can’t wait until I get home and you can tell me all about it, but my break is over so I really have to get back to work.”

She sighs heavily, still eager to girl talk. The bills have to be paid though, whether she’s met Prince Charming or not. “Well, should I go?” she asks.

I take a step into the corridor, spotting a suit-wearing gentleman standing outside the door at the end of the hall. Unease moves down my spine. I did not want to take this assignment, but when I expressed my reluctance to Rita, she laughed her ass off. Apparently, this is not a man you say no to.

“Go where?” I ask, not entirely paying attention.

“I told you, he asked if I wanted to grab dinner. I have to tell him when he gets back from making his phone call. I wanna say yes, but does it make me look like a total loser if I do? Like, they say it’s not good to be too available, right? Will he think I’m lame if I don’t have plans tonight? I guess he must not have plans either since he asked, but I don’t know the rules. Should I make him wait? I’m terrible at this stuff. You’re so much better at guys than me. I need your expert advice.”

I really don’t have time for this right now. “As long as it’s just dinner, sure, I guess so. I don’t care how hot he is or how many doors he opens, don’t you dare go home with him.”

“Oh, my lord, like I would do that. I’m literally hyperventilating at the prospect of the ride to dinner; I assure you we will not be getting naked anytime soon.”

“You better not.”

“I’m so nervous. Okay, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna go to dinner with him.” She squeals, and I can’t help smiling. “Okay, got it out of my system. I’m good now. Nothing like this ever happens to me! Okay.” She pushes out another breath. “Wish me luck!”

“You’re brilliant, funny, beautiful, and awesome; he’s lucky to share a meal with you—you don’t need luck.”

“Love you. See you when you get home.”

“I look forward to hearing every intimate detail.”

I hang up the phone and tuck it away in my bag, taking a few seconds to collect myself before I strut down the hall toward the guarded door.

I’m nervous tonight.

I never usually feel nervous when I’m meeting with a new client—unless they like that, of course. Tonight I have no idea what my client wants, so I guess my nervousness is organic.

My orders for approaching Mateo Morelli are vague, at best. The only box he checked was “girlfriend experience.” I asked around to see if anyone might’ve tangled with him before me, but no one has—the uber hot Chicago crime lord never hires escorts to entertain him. Not until now, I guess. Maybe now that he’s getting married he wants to be a little more discreet.

Whatever, I’m sure it’ll be fine. I tell myself my nerves are just because he’s more dangerous than any of the men I’ve entertained before. I’m pretty good at landing on my feet, but when I’m dealing with the potentially dangerous, I like to have a better grasp of my surroundings. I would feel much better if I knew what to expect.

There’s a guard stationed outside the door who has to pat me down beforehand. This is actually not the first time I’ve encountered that, so I know the drill.

Another man opens the door, some scary-looking man with shaggy hair and a scarred face. He steps back to let me inside and closes the door, then he holds out a hand. “Phone.”

“I’m actually supposed to keep my phone on me for safety reasons.”

The man rolls his eyes. “Trust me; your phone wouldn’t save you if we had any bad intentions.”