Shane (Mallick Brothers 1)

“Did you want me to leave you two alone?” Shane asked, sounding amused.

“Oh please,” I said, rolling my eyes. “He’s too clean cut for my taste. Even if he is in the mob. He just has a nice voice.”

“How did you know he was in the mob?” Shane asked, not bothering to keep his tone low. But, then again, we were in a private booth and the closest table was at least six feet away.

“Fee told me while she picked out my dress today.”

“Fee picked that out?” he asked, eyes dipping toward my chest for the barest of seconds. “I owe her a pair of earrings or something.”

I felt my lips curl upward at the roundabout compliment and the way the words made my insides feel warmer. It had been so long since words from a man’s lips meant to bolster me up instead of trying to break me down. I had started to forget how nice it was.

Just then, the waiter came over and discreetly showed Shane the label of the wine bottle before pouring him a taste which he went through the motions of approving until both our glasses were filled. “I didn’t have you pegged for someone who knew their wine.”

“I swear to fuck it all tastes the same to me,” he said, making me laugh. “But if Luca is sending it over, there’s no doubt that it’s some of the best in the building.” I reached for my glass and took a sip and had to agree with Shane; it all tasted the same to me too. In general, I would take a beer or something hard any day. But there was something nice about a good meal with wine. It felt traditional, normal, so unlike anything I had ever known in my life before. “So, what’s your story, Lea?” he asked as I picked up my leather-bound menu.

I felt my stomach twist as I tried to pretend my hesitation was because of what I was reading, not the fact that I was worried my half-true story wouldn’t be convincing. I smiled, looking up at him from under my lashes, going for flirtatious, hoping to keep him off his game. “I moan and dirty talk men on phones all night. And then I sleep and run errands and hit the gym. That’s about it for my story.”

“What’s your story before Navesink Bank? You’re obviously not from around here.”

I took a slightly deeper breath and nodded. “I’m from California.”

“No shit?” he asked with a smile. “You don’t seem like the yoga-doing, electric car-driving, granola-eating, pacifist.”

“Really? State stereotypes, Shane? You do know what kind of reputation Jersey has across this country.”

“I’m cool with everyone thinking we’re all loud, rude, and in the mob. Keeps all those fuckers from coming here.”

“You really don’t give a damn what anyone thinks, huh?” I asked, envying that slightly. I used to feel that way. Back in the day, before my life got away from me. Even then, away from that situation, I worried. I worried people would see through me. I worried the badass bitch I was would be seen as a mask, that people would see the chinks in my armor instead of seeing the reinforced patches I welded over them, strengthening them. I was constantly terrified that someone would see me as weak, as less because of what I had been through. I cared what people thought, no matter how much I hated that.

“Whose opinion could possibly matter more than my own? If you try to bend yourself to fit other peoples’ molds, you realize real fast that it’s not possible to please everyone. So I do what I want; I talk how I want; I live how I want. I won’t ever fucking regret doing it my way.”

Well, he had a point there. “So you like being an enforcer?” I asked, deciding to be as blunt as he was.

His head tilted, but he didn’t seem surprised. “It was how I was raised. It’s what I know. I know violence isn’t a lifestyle that most people can…”

“I get it,” I said with a shrug. “I’m not naive. I get that there is a need for loan sharks. And where there are loan sharks, there are enforcers. That’s how it is. It’s not pretty, but it’s necessary.”

“See? That’s what I mean,” he said, pushing his menu to the side of the table, obviously familiar enough with it to not need to look. “Most normal people don’t see it that way.”

“I didn’t say I was normal.”

“Is it going to be butting heads with you all night?” he asked, lips tipped up like he was okay with it going either way.

“Do you really think it’s necessary to know about my past? That can’t possibly help you get into my pants which is obviously the whole purpose of this charade.”