Page 25 of Because I Need You
“Well, if you think she’s going to reach out to me, you’re mistaken. Even if she didn’t hate me before, she probably does now.”
“Why do you say that?”
“The last time I spoke to her, I called her a lying bitch, and you know she doesn’t exactly like hearing the truth about herself.”
“Jesus, Gio.” Cat shook her head.
“If she reaches out to you, call me immediately. Do not meet with her by yourself, Catalina,” I said, “Do you understand me?”
“Loren said the same thing. I understand.”
I didn’t believe her. She held my eyes as she lied, and I had to give her credit because another man may have gone along with it, but I knew liars. I was one. Which meant I needed to call my fucking brother-in-law prematurely, since I still did not have an answer about the locations of the warehouses.
“Is that it?” I picked up my wine and started walking to the door.
“Yeah, I guess,” she said, but stayed rooted to her spot blocking the door. I raised an eyebrow. What now? “You’re not happy, G. I know you think you are, but you’re not. This thing with Natasha is a waste of time.”
“Maybe I like wasting my time.” I walked past her.
She scoffed behind me. “Fucking liar.”
I kept walking until I reached the table. Natasha had finished her meal and was now drinking an espresso. I was jealous that she’d gotten to eat alone, in peace, with no interruptions. Cat gave me a kiss on the cheek and waved at Natasha as I took my seat, looking at the lasagna. I pushed the plate away. I could’ve asked for another one, but I’d lost my appetite after that conversation. Maybe I’d take it home and heat it up, which I never did, but that was how badly I’d been craving this meal.
“So,” Natasha said. “Am I going to meet your mother?”
I blinked up from my cold lasagna and found her smiling at me, a hint of excitement in her blue eyes. I almost felt bad. Almost. I waited one second, and another, and finally I sighed, looking away and running a hand through my hair. Fuck, I needed a haircut. I straightened my shoulders and met her gaze straight on, the way I did when I was sitting across from an associate or a capo.
“Absolutely not.”
“Wh… well, you don’t have to be so mean about it.” She frowned. “I thought, I mean, we’ve been together seven months today, Gio.”
“And I have to admit, it was a good run.” I looked up at the server and told him to box up my lasagna.
“Wait. You’re breaking up with me?” she asked, shocked.
“It appears so.”
“On our anniversary?” she squeaked, surely causing every head to turn in our direction, but I wasn’t paying attention to them. I kept looking at her.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I meant it, too. I hated the idea of break ups. It was why I didn’t formally date in the first place.
“For what reason?” her voice rose some more. “I demand to know the reason.”
She demanded to know a reason. I tried not to laugh at that as I counted my money for the tip. It wasn’t like I paid the bill at my own restaurant, but I always liked to leave the tip in cash. The server came back with my box and a glass bottle of coke, something I always took with me. I thanked him and handed him the cash. His eyes lit up as he thanked me and walked away.
“Giovanni!” Natasha slapped her napkin on the table. “I deserve to know why you’re breaking up with me.”
“Because, Natasha.” I stood up. “My sisters don’t like you.”
“What?” She let out a laugh. “Your bratty sisters don’t like me so you’re breaking up with me? You’re not fucking them, you’re fucking me. Why do you care what they think?”
“You must have not been paying attention.” I walked over to her and kissed her lips briefly. “Family means everything to me. Everything they say matters. Especially when it comes to this.”
I picked up my doggy bag and walked away after that. She tried to follow me. One of my guys stopped her. I waved at the rest of the staff and the chefs as I made my way through the kitchen and walked out the back door, where Petra was waiting for me outside the SUV. She’d dyed her hair platinum blonde recently. I hadn’t gotten used to it yet. It was a striking contrast against her dark skin, but she made it work. Then again, with an attitude like hers, everything worked and if it didn’t, it was best not to tell her.
“We have a problem.” She set her phone to her side and looked up at me.
“Of course, we do.” My whole fucking life was a series of problems.
