Page 21 of The Bluffing Game

“Number one, I don’t think you’re rude. Number two, you’re entitled to give me as much sass as you want. I’ve got a thicker skin than most. And number three, I don’t have to be a therapist to tell you that finding out your dad is not your dad would fuck anyone up. Shoot, I’m not sure I’d talk to my mom either if she did that to me.”

“Does your mom live in town? Does she mind that Gracie works here?” She looks at me curiously.

I wonder what she would say if she knew the truth. She’d likely run for the mountains, in Canada or even Switzerland, to get as far away from me as possible. Not that I’d blame her.

“She lives in town part of the year; the other part of the year, she’s elsewhere.”

That’s simple enough, but the way she narrows her eyes lets me know she wants to know more.

I should have explained my answer better. Should have said my mom didn’t like to stay in one place too long. That she’d had close to twenty different homes since she had divorced my dad. That she left Lucia and me with Dad when they divorced, which meant that most of our lives were spent with Gracie. She’s like a second mom to us, more maternal than our real mom. She tried to shield us, and she put up with so much so that she could take care of us. But I don’t say any of that, and she doesn’t prod.

“I see.”

She doesn’t see, but she respects my answer, probably in part because I didn’t push her about her mom. I am quite curious what prompted her parents to tell the truth, and even more, how she knew her dad was in Santa Capinari. The town is small enough that most of the residents know each other. There is a possibility I know her birth dad, which is pretty weird to think about.

“So, your dad lives here in—” I stop, my entire body freezing when I see Gigi exiting her white Mercedes G-Wagon and heading straight toward me.

She’s wearing skintight leather pants and a bright red crop top that exposes her taut belly and enviable abs. Her breasts are pressed together, and it’s obvious to me that she’s not wearing a bra. Her heels are high, but that doesn’t bother her as she strides like a gazelle with a purpose directly toward me. Her bob appears shorter and blonder than I remember, and even though I can’t see her eyes from behind her oversized Ray-Bans, I know they’re blue and narrowed.

“Dalton Leone, I thought you had moved out of town and didn’t tell me.” She stops directly in front of me, not even acknowledging Sage, but that doesn’t surprise me, as she’s always been rude.

“I’m still here. Good to see you, Gigi. This is Sa⁠—”

“Don’t I get a kiss?” She takes her sunglasses off and presses her lips against mine, like she’s claiming me. “Ooh, tasting like apple cider and mints, just like you usually do.” She runs her hand down the side of my face. “Looking good, Dalton. Looks like you’ve been hitting the gym again.” She looks thoughtful. “Might be time for us to reinstate our old arrangement.”

I don’t want to say over my dead body, so I stand there and then sneak a look at Sage. I half expect her to look pissed off at being ignored or maybe even jealous, seeing as we shared a few flirtatious moments, but she looks neither of those things. In fact, she looks indifferent; like she couldn’t care less.

“Gigi, this is Sage, one of my new employees. She and her sister, Rosie, just moved to town, and they’ll be waiting tables and be behind the bar.”

“Oh … how nice of you.” She looks over at Sage and offers her a fake smile. “Did you just graduate from high school? Congrats on your first job.”

“High school?” Sage looks at her with incredulous eyes and laughs. “I know I look good for my age, but no, I’m not that young. If you want some tips, I can share though.”

“Tips?” Gigi sounds aghast, but her expression doesn’t change, probably due to all the Botox. There’s a plastic surgeon somewhere in Los Angeles who has a beach house because of her.

“Well, it looks like you have the opposite issue to me. I look younger than my age, but I have a feeling you look older than yours. And also, don’t chase a man; it’s never a good look. If Dalton wanted to go back to your old arrangement, I’m sure he would have called you. But seeing as you haven’t seen him in ages, it’s obvious he doesn’t.” She smiles sweetly at Gigi and then turns to me with a glint in her eyes. “If we’re done now, Mr. Leone, I’ll go back inside and continue my training.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I nod, impressed by how Sage shot back at Gigi. The fact that Gigi hasn’t said a word tells me just how shocked she is. “I’ll likely leave in a little bit—need to get Toby home and make some work calls—but I’ll catch up soon.”

“Sounds good, boss.” Sage spins around and marches back into the restaurant, her stride confident as she leaves me with a seething Gigi.

“So, yeah, that’s Sage. I should⁠—”

“Are you sleeping with her?” Gigi demands, her eyes narrowed. “Is that why she feels like she can be so rude to me? How dare that ugly wannabe attempt to shame me?”

“She’s not ugly.” My voice is harsh. “And not that it’s any of your business, but no, we are not sleeping together.”

“Then good.” She presses her hand to my chest and slides it down. “Because I’m missing Dalton Junior.” Her eyes are possessive as they search mine. “Maybe we can get together some night.”

“I don’t think so, Gigi. It’s over. It’s been over.” I take a step back, not wanting to be mean, but not wanting to have this conversation with her again.

“We dated for six months …” She pouts. “We were going somewhere.”

“No, we weren’t …” I pause.

I don’t want to be rude. I don’t want to remind her that we slept together five times in those six months and we never went on any dates. We were truly fuck-buddies who helped each other relieve stress, and then it ended.

“I know we weren’t serious before, but I’m ready for more now. I’m ready to⁠—”