“Did you? Knee him in the balls?”
I groan, slumping. “I actually tried, but he was too quick. Who do you think I should tell? Henry or Michael?” Michael is the owner. He’s pretty hands-off with the kitchen, leaving all the hiring, firing and management to Henry and Arnie.
“Maybe Michael. He’s the one with a liability here. You know what you should do? Go home tonight and then call him tomorrow before anyone’s here. That way Arnie and Henry won’t see you going over their heads.”
Arnie pokes his head in the walk-in, then grins and saunters in with a broad grin. “What’s going on, girls? I thought you’d already gone home.”
“We’re just leaving.” I push forcibly past him, feeling Lilah right behind me. We grab our jackets and head out. Ugh.
“Call tomorrow,” Lilah says firmly as we part ways. “Promise?”
“Yeah,” I say, although I still haven’t made up my mind. I like this job so much, I’m not sure I want to risk fucking things up. Besides, Arnie’s not a real danger. He’s an annoyance, not a rapist.
At least I hope.
I walk toward the train station.
At first, I don’t notice the car that pulls out, but when it drives slowly beside me and the window comes down, I look over. Only because of my thoughts about Arnie, I imagine for a minute it might be him.
But that’s dumb. It’s a beautiful black SUV. One I recognize immediately.
Gio’s.
I stop.
“Get in the car.”
My heart’s still beating fast. I can’t decide if it’s because this looks like the start of every deadly mafia scene I’ve ever seen in the movies or if it’s because of what Gio does to my body.
Either way, I’m not getting in. I start walking again. “No, thanks.”
I sense Gio’s annoyance through the open window as he eases off the brake and follows me.
“Marissa. I’m gonna drive you home. That’s all. Get in the fucking car.”
I stop again. “What are you even doing here?”
We’d exchanged a few texts about which night I’m coming to his place and the details. He asked where I work and I told him. It definitely wasn’t an invitation.
“I was trying out the food. Wanted to see where you worked.”
I raise my brows. “We closed an hour ago.”
“Yeah. I was at the bar having a drink. Now I’m leaving, and I see you walking alone. I don’t like it.”
I’m not sure I buy his story. Feels to me like he was sitting in his car waiting for me. It’s a little scary, considering his profession.
“I walk alone every night, Gio. I’m fine.” I turn my collar up against the fall chill and walk on.
“Marissa.” His voice bites out, sharp with command. He’s a man used to getting his way. Used to having his orders obeyed. The sound of his voice does something to me, even though I don’t want to let him have power over me. “Get in the fucking car.”
“I’m good, Gio.” I try to keep my voice light.
“You know I can make you, right?”
That does something unexpected to me. My reaction isn’t fear. It’s heat. Liquid lava pooling between my legs. A clenching in my pussy.
I turn to face him for the first time. “You’d probably like that.”
The annoyance on his face morphs into a twisted smirk—the one that melts panties across the city. “You might, too, angel. Wanna try?”
My face grows warm, but tingles spread across my skin. “What are you going to do?” My voice sounds ridiculously husky.
His grin widens. “Get in the car before I smack your ass pink.”
My ass clenches and tingles in response, the memory of his spanks at his apartment rushing back.
He’s definitely not the butt-pat type like Arnie. He’s at the opposite end of harassment. The kind you want to experience again and again.
I pull open the door and climb inside. Whether it’s because I’m not willing to find out if he’d follow through or because I want him to, I’m not sure.
“Not sure if I’m happy you obeyed or disappointed I don’t get to follow through.” He voices my exact thoughts.
I sense heat flush across my chest and up my neck. “I think you’ve seen enough of my ass already,” I say primly.
His chuckle is dark and wicked. “Oh, not nearly, angel. But this is just a ride home. You don’t have to hang on to the seat belt like it’s the only thing keeping you safe from me.”
I steal a sidelong glance at him, devouring his breathtaking beauty for a hot minute.
“How did your cousin’s surgery go?”
“Good. Thank you. She’s recovering like a champ.” Gratitude to Gio warms my chest. Not just for the money, but for his continued interest—helping me at the hospital, asking now. I steal one more glance. “Why are you really here, Gio?”
He shrugs and returns his gaze to the road. After a moment of silence, he says, “Honest truth?”