Straight Flushed (Hot Pursuit #1)(62)
“What?” His eyes narrowed into dark slits, and he dropped his spoon into the bowl.
“He wanted me to tell him where someone was.”
“Who?”
“Stephen…the guy I met in Florida.”
He stiffened. “The guy who ditched you? Why the hell would someone ask you where he is?”
“Because...” I shrugged demurely.
“You know?”
“Uh huh. He’s in my apartment.” I smirked and looked down.
He pushed the bowl of soup away. “Let me get this straight. The pussy of a guy who ditched you, the best girl I know, is in your apartment?” The two veins in his forehead began to bulge.
“Yes.” I winced. “But I can explain.”
“Yeah.” He laughed cynically. “You better.”
“You remember the day we drove Avery to that meeting in the park?”
He took a moment to find the memory. “’Course.”
“The guy Avery met in the park was Stephen. And he’s the guy from Florida.”
“What the fuck?” he said, evenly spacing his words. His jaw clenched, and the veins started to throb.
“I’m so sorry, Vance. Just listen, okay? After Stephen met with Avery that day, he went back home to New York. The same night we got into the accident with Avery someone ran his car off the road in New York. The two of them uncovered something at the bank and now these men want them dead and consequently anyone involved with them.” I shrugged and let out a nervous laugh.
He pinched his brows together, and I could see him trying to connect the dots. I filled him in on the rest of the details.
“So, how did this guy that slept with you, who then ditched you, show up at your door here and end up staying at your place?” I opened my mouth, but he held up his finger to stop me from speaking. “And it better be a damn good explanation, otherwise I’m gonna go over there and rearrange his face, wounded shoulder or not. I will not hesitate to fuck him up.”
“I already rearranged his manhood when he first showed up, if that makes you feel any better.” I smiled.
“Of course you did. That’s my girl.” He laughed, heartily. “But still…”
I gave him the rundown on why Stephen left the way he had in Florida, and the reasons why he’d sought me out.
Vance shook his head. “That takes some balls to come ask the girl you ditched in bed for help. Huge balls.”
“He had his reasons, and I like Avery a lot. I want to help them if I can, which is the other reason I’m here.”
He smirked. “Spill it.”
“Cavanaugh is going to deliver a message from Stephen to Avery sometime today. If it all works out, Stephen wants to meet with Avery so they can discuss how they’re going to dig themselves out of this. When they meet—“
“Assuming Avery is cool with that,” Vance interrupted.
“I have a feeling he will be. What’s he going to do? Sit in hiding for the rest of his life. He’s the vice president of a huge bank.”
“True.” He nodded.
“Anyway, I’ll take care of Stephen but I’d like you around as back up if you think you’ll be able.”
Vance was quiet for a few moments milling everything over. “Of course I can. When’s this going down?”
“Soon. I’m not sure specifically when, but I should know more later today.”
He grunted and nodded. “All right. But if you pull this bullshit and keep secrets from me again, I’ll ring your neck. Bros before hos, Di.”
“I know and I’m sorry. You know I would never voluntarily keep things from you, but I thought I was keeping you safe.” I released a big breath. “As you can see, that didn’t work out so well for me.” I looked at his shoulder.
“Guess not.” He pulled the bowl of soup back in front of himself and stared down into the sea of orzo, meatballs, and chicken broth. “And I guess if we’re going to be honest right now, there’s something I have to tell you.” His voice had become smoky and low.
I wanted to smile, but when I looked at his eyes, they lacked their usual playfulness, and my lips stayed flat. He nudged the food around in his bowl like a child trying to get out of eating his broccoli. The air in the room had grown heavy and thick.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“You know pretty much everything there is to know about me. And after what happened yesterday, I’ve been thinking. A lot.” He took a deep breath. “I need you to know that I—” A mad rush of Italian women barreled through his front door, cutting him off midsentence. He closed his eyes and forced a half grin. “Oh well. Never mind.”
Nineteen
A team of women entered Vance’s house, arms loaded with trays of food. At least six were in line behind Vance’s mother, who was the leader of the pack—no one dared pass her. They were all talking over each other in a flurried mixture of Italian and English.
Two things to note about the DeLuca’s: nothing was ever done quietly, and you’d never encounter bigger personalities. Ever. It was best to stand out of their way and let them do their thing.
I recognized a couple of Vance’s sisters, as well as a few aunts and cousins I’d come to know over the years. The caboose on the DeLuca train was Vance’s dad, the lone, brave male who brought in the last of the food. He shut the front door, containing the chaos, and calmly entered the kitchen, setting down a silver tray of his own on the counter. I hoped to God it was Mrs. DeLuca’s lasagna. Layers of thin, homemade noodles, a mixture of ricotta and fresh smoked mozzarella cheese, her secret recipe red sauce, and the perfect combination of sausage and ground beef seasoned with the right amount of garlic, basil, and oregano all combined with Mrs. DeLuca’s magical touch. Miraculously my appetite had returned with a vengeance and my mouth watered.