Page 106 of Fallen Rook

And, deep inside, I knew she never would be.

I was beginning to resent her for her mere existence, the way Achilles had when he pined after Tierney, for the imminent wedding that wouldn’t, it seemed, be called off. Because Luca was too obsessed with any chess move to bring him closer to winning Sofia back to do something about the Bratva.

I got out of my chat with Katya and opened the one with Tom, reading our last exchange from yesterday.

Me: Hey, just checking if today is the day you’ll finally put your ranch in my hidden valley.

Tomcat: ?

Me: You know…test the mattress.

Tomcat: My mattress is fine, actually.

Me: HAVE SEX WITH ME. CHRIST, MAN.

Tomcat: I wish I could. Busy with work.

Me:

Me: Tomorrow?

Tomcat: I’ll keep in touch, but tomorrow looks busy as well.

Me: Look, you don’t have to meet me, but at least don’t lie to me. You always make time when you want to.

Tomcat: You’re right. And I do want to. But remember our first time, when I lost control, and almost ruined everything?

Me: Yeah…

Tomcat: I was serious about what I said. It’ll never happen again. Bear with me for a few days while I sort through my thoughts, all right?

Me: Fine

“Are you reading your own obituary?” Luca took a seat beside me. He looked good. Tan. Fit. In pressed tailored clothes and his favorite cologne. And still, something was off. “You look like death.”

I slid the phone into my front pocket, blowing out air. Luca thrust a paper plate into my hand. I looked around and realized everyone had already helped themselves while I hosted a pity party for one. We were in the far corner of the room, sitting on the balcony recliners facing the living room.

“I’m fine. What are we eating?” I glanced down at my plate.

“Wild-rice-stuffed dolma and kebab, fried sardines, and sliders. You have to try the sliders.” Luca took a juicy bite of his. “Tierney fries the burger with lamb fat, onion, and cilantro. And there’s about five hundred fucking salads. Got you a spoonful of each.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, shoveling in a bite of potato, carrot, peas, eggs, and pickle salad slathered in mayo and groaning. “Okay, what the fuck? Why is this good?”

“I know,” Luca said reluctantly. He wasn’t a fan of Tierney, but he did like her food. “Olivye salad.”

“At first glance, these ingredients should not be anywhere fucking near each other, but boy, do they make sense together,” I said, thinking about Tom and me. Fuck. Now salads made me think about him? That was a new low.

“How’re you doing?” I asked.

Luca waved the plastic fork in my general direction, not bothering with words. “You?”

“I’m pretty sure I have strong feelings for someone.” The words got out before I could stop them. But turning back on them wasn’t an option, either. I wanted him to know.

Luca’s face bricked over. His chewing slowed as he gave it some thought. “I’m guessing it’s not Katya.”

“No.”

“And I’m also guessing you didn’t manage to fuck her out of your system last week, wherever you screwed off to.”