Page 32 of Taken In Trade
I find a crisp Coke where Angel said they would be, and I swear my entire outlook on life changes as it hits my taste buds. Moving on, I shovel an unhealthy amount of hash browns into my mouth.
Ketchup would be nice, but someone left out fancy maple syrup, and the hint of sweetness contrasts the salty hash browns.
“You can come sit at the table,” Angel says. “I’ll run and grab a blanket if it makes you uncomfortable.”
I mentally try to reset my expression.
I’m not evil, but my resting bitch face occasionally makes it seem like I am.
“Don’t do that. The baby needs fresh air while it eats.” I grab my plate and the can of soda. “Sorry, I don’t know if it’s a boy or girl. I didn’t mean to call your kid anit.”
Damn.
I’m going to have to get my shit together if I’m going to be a parent one dayveryfar down the line.
“She’s a girl.” She laughs. “But you’re right, you can’t tell by her outfit today. I’ve just been too lazy to do laundry.”
I get everything set down on the table and slide into the chair. “I’m sure Moretti has someone who can handle that for you. If not, he can definitely afford to hire a team.”
“That man threatens to kick us out on a weekly basis. I really shouldn’t push my luck.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask, wondering if Moretti thought things through well enough to falsify a prenup. Even if he didn’t, it’s not like he couldn’t just forge my signature once again, but I’d still do my best to make his life a living hell if he wanted to play games like threatening to kick me out if I did something he didn’t like. “You should raise hell. You have a baby.”
“We’ve been looking for a place, but Anson and Ziggy work so much…” She shrugs. “Moretti might whine about having us here, but he’s not a bad guy. He didn’t fire me, even though it goes against his policy of not allowing his men to hook up with his dancers.”
My head tilts.
Moretti owns a variety of strip clubs and bars. I had no idea about that policy, but it makes sense if he wants to keep any messy relationship drama away from his businesses.
“He let me move in a month before I gave birth, just so I could live in one place with my guys,” Angel says. “My roommates complained every time I had Ziggy and Anson over, but I’m sure we could have found somewhere.” She shrugs. “I don’t think Moretti was prepared to give up having two of his enforcers here on the property, so he gripes just enough to make it seem like it’s a hassle to have us here.”
I spin that over in my head.
Huh.
Maybe that’s not Moretti’s kid.
“What’s her name?” I ask, nodding to the baby.
“Kassie.” She smiles down at the baby. “She’s five weeks old…” She goes on, chattering a bunch of information that I don’t actually listen to, but people like to talk about their kids, right?
Hopefully.
I need more time to mull over what she just said.
Does it make me an asshole to always assume the worst about everyone?
Maybe, but I haven’t been pleasantly surprised a whole lot in my life. It would be a nice change to not have to keep my guard up at all times, but I didn’t even know I was coming here until twelve hours ago.
A flash of Magnum’s easy smile fills my mind, and my stomach aches. I hate that he probably waited around for me for hours before finally giving up and leaving. Or maybe he never showed up at all.
Either way, I’ll never know.
Angel leaves to change Kassie’s diaper, and Hawk and Moretti still haven’t popped up.
Once I’m done eating, I go searching. Moretti’s office is my target, and luckily, the house’s straightforward layout makes it easy enough to find. The door is cracked open about six inches, but I knock, which pushes it open at least a foot or two.
Moretti is at his desk, and he nods, waving a hand. “Come in, Vanessa.”
