I have to be honest, I was curious to see what Miss Coconut Hair looked like. I don’t know what I expected, given she attracts dodgy men like bees to a honeycomb, but it’s not the innocent-looking young girl grinning across the table at me. Of course she’s incredibly attractive, and even though I feel a little pervy checking her out, she’s wearing a little pink shirt that’s little more than a bra with a black, sheer tank top over it. I don’t need glasses to see she’s got a great figure. But she reads as much more open and sweet than I expected. Even though literally no one has described her in such a way, I expected her to be a little manipulative, purposely wielding her feminine wiles, and the guys who get sucked in are just too close to see it.
“Hi,” she says brightly, grinning at me like I’m Ryan Gosling. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
Vince merely nods. We already know each other, so we didn’t really need an introduction.
“Yeah, you too,” I tell Mia, nodding at her. “I’ve certainly heard enough about you.”
“Only good things, I hope,” she jokes.
Vince rolls his eyes at her as he reaches for a fry. “Who could say a bad word about you?”
Mia ignores him and remains cheerful.
I’ve only been here for fifteen seconds and I’m already starting to see why Mark hates this kid so much.
Well, aside from the fact that he gets to fuck Mia every night and Mark is just plain jealous. That’s a pretty big part of why he hates Vince, but I’m already agreeing with him about the rest and they’ve barely interacted. I’m probably too biased.
“I only ever have good things to say about you,” Francesca says lightly, also ignoring Vince as she grabs the menu wedged up against the wall and passes it to me. “We’re all starving. No pressure.”
I flash her a smile, cracking open the menu. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”
Mia’s phone vibrates on the table and she picks it up to check it. Vince looks over and reads the message, like it’s a normal thing to do, then goes back to picking at fries.
Raising an eyebrow, I look to Francesca for a reaction. She shrugs. I can’t tell if the shrug is her saying this is totally normal and of course Vince should monitor Mia’s every move, or if it’s new and she doesn’t understand why it’s happening either. Hard to tell with her family.
The waitress comes over to ask what I want to drink, but since they’re all starving I tell them to go ahead and order while I look at the menu.
Once the waitress is gone, Mia makes it her mission to get to know me. Being well versed in mob families now, though, she doesn’t know what she’s allowed to ask.
She finally arrives at, “How did you guys meet?”
“At the bakery,” Francesca answers.
“I came for a cupcake and left with her heart,” I joke.
Pointing at me accusingly, she tells Mia, “He says things like that.”
Mia is already grasping her heart dramatically. “I’m so excited, I can’t even find the words. When Mark first said he wanted to—” She freezes, glancing at me, then preemptively amends what Mark said, “When Mark said he wanted you, I wasn’t sure if you had a clandestine romance going on, or he was trying to Castellanos trap you. I didn’t know what to think and they were too busy with dumb stuff to clue me in.”
“Dumb stuff,” I say, amused at her retelling of events. Mark described the scene she’s referring to, and he was afraid of getting shot while Mateo was apparently being a dick, but she makes it sound like they were playing hacky sack.
Nodding, she says, “It’s probably not dumb stuff to you, but I was much more interested in this story than your tiff with Mateo.”
“My tiff.” I lean back in my seat, grinning at her reducing a mob war to a tiff.
“I’m so happy for you both,” Mia says. “I wish Francesca could’ve told me. I’m glad she didn’t,” she assures us both, “because I cannot keep a secret to save my life, but I wish we could’ve commiserated.”
“I’ll make a note about that secret thing,” I tell her, nodding.
“Please do,” she agrees, nodding and grabbing a fry from the giant tray at the center of the table.
“I think you’ve leveled up your secret-keeping skills,” Vince remarks.
“But I don’t like keeping secrets, so I don’t want people to tell me any,” she amends.
I want to ask her what she told Mateo about Mark on their car ride yesterday, but in light of Vince sitting here, I steer toward friendlier waters.
“So, Francesca tells me you’re starting college in the fall.”
I don’t know how it’s possible, but she lights up even more. “Yep. I’m excited.”