Breaking the Billionaire's Rules(36)

A young guy jumps out and opens up the back. A redhead with Meow Squad ears walks up—hers are lit with tiny lights, oddly enough.

My photographer is talking about the color process, petitioning for a Japanese photo app that automates something or other. He drones on as more Meow Squad people arrive and get their pre-packed carts.

I nod, feigning interest.

And then she’s there, ears shining in the late-morning sunlight, standing straight and proud, making the most of her small frame. The stance is classic Mia.

She’d hold her head high through every setback, going after her stage career with an urgency that wasn’t there with other kids. It looked like urgency, anyway; I had this idea that it was a little bit about escape, too. We both wanted to escape in our own ways, I guess.

One of the few things we had in common.

I flex my fingers as she touches the young van driver on the shoulder, talking to him excitedly. Mia always had lots of funny, charming stories. I think half the school was in love with her.

She pulls out her cart and arranging it just so, laughing.

Something lightens in me, seeing her laugh, but then her friend Antonio appears around the corner. How does he end up out there? Does he wait for her? Do they text? He’s wearing another nice suit, actually. He’s young to know how to wear a suit so well. I’d think he was a model himself if not for his briefcase.

She seems happy to see him, but the way she looks at him—she’s fond of him. It’s the way she’d look at a pet hamster. She grabs his arm and says something, head tilted, just an air of mischief.

“Max?”

“Buy the app,” I say, not wanting to tear my gaze from the scene unfolding below. “Send me a few shots so I can see.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

She’s twisting her lips at him. It’s her humorous and not-so-sure-about-this look. Playful scolding.

Or am I reading her wrong?

Now his hands are on her shoulders and he’s regarding her with outsized emotions—shock, joy.

I’m reminded of a Facebook video I once saw of a deaf man who’d gotten some kind of ear implant and could hear for the first time. He listened to the ocean with that stunned, joyful, bewildered expression. Then he listened to some symphony music with a face like that.

I don’t get why Antonio looks at Mia like that. Did she deliver some astonishing news? But she still has that fond scolding look. She reaches up and fixes his tie. Is she whispering to him?

My blood goes cold as he slides his hand to the side of her head. He leans in and kisses her.

I wait for her to push him away. Instead she shoves her hands into his hair, vigorously messing it up. Her hands grip his back. The kiss is getting dramatic.

I’m off, heading down to the lower level, my legs moving before my mind can stop me. I’m rushing down the stairwell, out the door.

My mood is dark as I emerge onto the busy thoroughfare. I need to get to them. I don’t know why. I don’t need a reason.

Traffic is insane—I’m waiting at the light for what feels like forever. Finally it clears. The walk light flashes on and I’m stomping across the street. Around the corner. My brow lowers as I approach the truck.

They’re both gone. There’s just the kid. The driver.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

I take out my wallet and extract a fifty. “Who was that with Mia?”

The driver gapes at the money. “I can’t take that.”

“Why not? Did you take an oath of silence?”

“No, but…I don’t want trouble with Antonio.”

“Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

The kid looks up and down the street, as if he’s worried Antonio might jump out of the shadows. “He has a lot of darkness in his heart.”

I frown. “What does that mean?”

“You don’t want to know. Just leave it. And don’t ask around about him—he’s dangerous.”

I get a little closer and shove the fifty into his front pocket. “I won’t have to ask around if you tell me. What do you mean by dangerous?”

The kid lowers his voice. “Antonio would plunge a knife into your heart as easily as he’d cut a ripe tomato. That’s what I mean.”

I stare. Hard. “Are you being funny?”

Solemnly, he shakes his head. “You didn’t hear it from me. Okay?”

My protective instincts kick into overdrive. “He’s some sort of criminal?”

“To put it mildly,” the kid says. “The man is a killer from Italy who had very little to live for before Mia. He grew up selling his body on the streets of Roma and getting into knife fights. He’s killed before. Sliced men to ribbons, and he thinks nothing of sleeping in pools of blood. And there are other things, too. Between him and Mia…it’s very…” He shakes his head as he loads an empty cart into the back of his truck.

I frown. “Very what?”

“Unsavory. I’d rather not get into it.”

“Unsavory how?”

He rushes around to the front and pulls open the door.

I follow on his heels. “Where is she? Right now.”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do,” I say.

“The Hillman building. She has a quick route there, and then she’s at the International Foods Center.”