“Hablas Español?” The man looked bewildered.
He chuckled. “Un poco.” He’d only learned enough Spanish to work with the staff at Muccino’s. And most of them probably not words he would say in polite company. Grabbing the chef’s knife, he turned his attention to the tomatoes, thinking about the last time he was in a kitchen like this.
When he and Adrianna were young, his parents insisted they both learn everything about the family business—both Fenrir Corp. and his mother’s family’s successful chain of fine dining Italian restaurants—by working from the bottom. And so the summer they were sixteen, they both worked in the Fenrir Corp. mailroom and the Muccino kitchens on alternating days. Lucas had to admit, he much preferred the hot kitchen to the cool, climate-controlled environment of the mailroom. The heat and the frantic energy seemed exciting to him and he realized why his uncle Dante and now his cousin Gio loved it in there.
As the night progressed, he did almost every single job in the kitchen, except the cooking itself. George took a quick break, at which point his father took over. Giorgios must have been in his seventies, but he still moved with the speed of a man half his age. When George came back, he handed a plate to Lucas, then told him to take a break. He gobbled down the grilled squid and potatoes, not because he was in a hurry, but because it was delicious. The squid was cooked perfectly, not rubbery at all, and the potatoes were crisp on the outside and soft on the inside.
Giorgios came up to Lucas to put in another load of dirty dishes. “You don’t even look tired.”
He grinned. “I work out.” Not that he could tell the old man that he was a Lycan, and therefore he had a lot more stamina and strength than normal humans. A couple of hours in the kitchen would hardly take the wind out of him.
The old man patted him on the shoulder. “We’re almost done.”
An hour later, sometime after midnight, Lucas was dragging the mop from the broom closet when Ernesto grabbed it from him.
“No,” he said. “I take care.”
He smiled. “Thank you. Gracias.”
“You go to boss.” He pointed to the dining room, and he walked out of the kitchen. The dining room was empty, the tablecloths and centerpieces taken away and tabletops wiped clean. He saw Sofia and the other waitress standing by the bar counting out tips and headed their way.
“No, no, Nicki,” Sofia said, shaking her head. “Take it all. You deserve it.”
The younger woman’s eyes went wide. “I can’t! You worked the shift with me.”
“And you’re still in school. Besides, I only came because all those people called out sick and Dad and Pappoús needed the extra hand.” She pushed the bills away. “Go on. Use it for text books or a nice night out after your exams.”
“Thanks, cuz!” she cried, gathering the bills and tucking them into her purse. When she looked up, her gaze landed on Lucas. “Is this your friend, Sof? The one Pappoús said was helping out in the kitchen?”
Sofia whirled around, her lips tightening as he drew closer.
“Miss me?”
“No,” she snapped back. “I barely noticed you were around.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “Of course not.” Liar. He was pretty sure she peeked inside the kitchen throughout the night. Once or twice, he caught her face through the window and knew she was looking at him.
“Hello,” he said, turning to the younger woman. “I’m Lucas.”
“I’m Nicki. Sofia’s my cousin,” she explained. “Where did you meet Sofia?”
“I was her suspect in a murder investigation,” he offered cheerfully.
Sofia glared at him, but Nicki giggled. “Ha ha, right.” She leaned over to her cousin and stage-whispered, “He’s cute. Don’t scare this one too much, okay?”
“What?” Sofia managed to squeak.
“Nice to meet you, Lucas. I’ll see you soon, cuz.” Nicki was already waving goodbye and walking out the door.
“Is that what you do? Scare boys away?”
Sofia’s hand fisted at her side and she shot daggers at him with her eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“I helped out in the kitchen,” he said.
“That’s not what I mean!” She threw her hands up. “And what was that all about? How the hell do you know how to do kitchen work?”
“Ah, so you were watching me?”
Her face went red, and she opened her mouth but stopped when Giorgios interrupted them. “Sofia! Lucas!” He clapped one hand on his shoulder and the other one wrapped around Sofia’s upper arm. “We’re done for the day, thank goodness! Come, come, we have wine at our best table.”
They didn’t have much choice as the old man dragged them over to the middle table on the right side of the dining room, flush against the wall. George was already sitting down, a bottle of wine and four glasses in front of him.
“Thank you,” he said to Giorgios.
“No, no, thank you.” The older man smiled warmly as he took his seat next to his son.
Sofia had already taken the seat against the wall and so Lucas slid in beside her. He flashed her a grin, but she remained stony-faced.
“You really did save our bacon, tonight.” George wiped his face with the towel slung over his shoulder. “We were deep in the weeds when you came.”
“And he didn’t need our help at all!” Giorgios exclaimed. “Look at this one, eh? So comfortable in the kitchen. From your expensive shoes and shirt, I thought you were one of those big shot Wall Street guys. But, no, you’ve worked in a restaurant before, right? It’s very obvious.”
“I did, when I was much younger.” He nodded gratefully as George pushed a glass of red wine toward him, then took a sip. Huh. “This is excellent.”
“I know the guy who supplies all the fancy restaurants in Manhattan,” the older man winked at him. “He says he gives me the best price while charging those high-end places like Le Cirque and Muccino’s twice as much as we pay.”
Lucas choked and slapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from spitting wine all over Giorgios’s face. The alcohol burned as it went down the wrong pipe.
“Are you all right?” Giorgios offered him a handkerchief.
“I’m fine. Thanks.” He cleared his throat, making a mental note to have a talk with Uncle Dante about his wine supplier. Beside him, Sofia huffed and took a sip of her own wine. This evening made her even more of a puzzle, and he was determined to find out more about her. “So, did you start this restaurant, Mr. Selinofoto?”
“Please, call me Giorgios. Everyone does. And yes, young man, I did. Came here to America when my kids were still toddlers and I had been widowed for two years. The Greek community here is very close, and with a lot of help, I was able to open this restaurant more than thirty years ago.”
“Don’t be modest, Pappoús.” Sofia said. “You wouldn’t have stayed in business if the food wasn’t so good.”
“And if you didn’t have a famous client.” George cocked his head to the photo by the entrance.
“Her?” Huh. Now that he thought of it, that young man in the photo did look a lot like Giorgios. “You cooked for her? On her yacht?”
“On the yacht.” Giorgios wiggled his eyebrows.
“Papa was half in love with her,” George said, but his voice was teasing. “He named our signature dessert after her.”
“Bah, half the world was in love with her! I heard a king offered to marry her and make her his queen. But, no, she only had eyes for the billionaire.” He chuckled. “Too bad he was married and was keeping that opera star as a mistress.”
“The things we do for love.” As George sipped on his wine, his eyes darted up, toward one of the photos hanging on the wall above them. It was a portrait of a woman dressed in a full formal police uniform, smiling at the camera.
Lucas did a double-take, then looked at Sofia. “That’s your mom, right? She looks like you.”
“Yes,” Giorgios answered for her. “Our dear Nadia.”
“
She’s very beautiful,” he commented.
“She was.” Sofia took a sip of her wine and then looked ahead, a blank look on her face.
“Oh.” He tried to meet her gaze, but she refused to look at him. “I’m sorry.” He wanted to hold her hand or do something to comfort her.
“Sofia was just thirteen years old when Nadia passed away,” George began, his voice somber. “She worked as a beat cop and died while on duty.”
“It was very sad,” Giorgios said quietly. “She was like my own daughter. And she was very brave. Sofia looked up to her a lot.”
At that moment, Lucas wanted to kick his own ass. It was obvious she loved being a cop and took pride in her work because her mom had been one. He felt like a real bastard, and he would understand if Sofia never forgave him for the part he played in her humiliation.
“So”—George narrowed his eyes at Lucas—“how do you know my daughter again?”
“I was one of her suspects in a case,” he said. That seemed to jolt Sofia out of her trance, and she jerked her head to him, the look on her face incredulous. “What? I’m not going to lie to your father and grandfather.”
“Is this true, Sofia?” Giorgios eyed Lucas warily.
She took a big gulp of wine. “Former suspect. He’s been eliminated from the list.” Placing the glass on the table, she stood up. “It’s late, and you know how the subway service is at this time of night. I should get going.”
“You can stay over, Sofia,” George offered. “Your bedroom is always ready for you.”
“I know, Papa.” She smiled fondly at him. “But I have stuff to do tomorrow, and if I stay tonight, I’ll end up staying all day tomorrow and I’ll never leave.”
“You be careful on the subway,” Giorgios said. “You know how dangerous it is at night.”
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him.
“I can take you home,” Lucas offered. “My car’s waiting outside.” As some point when he’d started working in the kitchen, he sent off a quick message to Reyes to tell him to park the car and get his own dinner.
“No. No way,” she said in a vehement tone. “I’d rather walk.”
“What?” Giorgios exclaimed in a baffled tone. “It’s late, and this gallant young man is offering you a ride in his car.”
“You’ll be home in twenty minutes,” her father assured her. Then he turned to Lucas with a dark glint in his eyes. “Right? You’ll take her straight home?”
“I promise.” He placed his hand over his heart. “On my grandmother’s grave.”
“See? And we know he is a good, hardworking boy,” Giorgios said. “He’ll drive you straight home.”
Sofia shot him a murderous look. “Fine,” she relented. “Just a ride home.”
“Just a ride home,” he echoed.
They all said their goodbyes and grabbed their coats. The two older men stayed inside to lock up and do some last-minute checks and urged the two of them to head outside.
Lucas opened the door and gestured for her to go first. The car was already outside on the curb and Reyes stepped out of the driver’s side and opened the door.
“I thought you were driving,” she said, eyeing Reyes.
“Disappointed? I know you’ve seen some of my driving skills.”
She ignored his comment and went inside the car. He instructed Reyes to drop off Sofia at her home plus one other thing, then stepped into the car. It didn’t escape his notice that she had squeezed herself all the way to the other end of the backseat.
“Do you need my address?” she asked, turning to him.
“No.”
“Of course not,” she said grimly, then crossed her arms over her chest.
Throughout the ride, Sofia seemed determined to look anywhere else—outside, the roof of the car, even the back of Reyes’s head—except at him. Which suited Lucas just fine because that meant he could stare at her.
Seated against the window, her ankles crossed and hands on her lap with only the streetlights outside lighting her figure, Sofia looked like a serene goddess. He realized that although he knew more about her now, she still remained a mystery to him. However, he did like that they both had such similar backgrounds: immigrant grandparents who were restaurant owners. He bet she’d probably worked at Giorgios’s Taverna since she was a teenager, which showed in her confident and efficient movements around the dining room. Obviously, she was hardworking and competent, and he thought of his own mother. She would probably love Sofia, being so much like herself. Not that Frankie Anderson would even get a chance to meet her, he told himself.
They finally crossed the bridge into Manhattan, and the car headed to the Lower East side, then after winding down through the deserted streets of Midtown, slowed down to a stop in front of a brick building on Fifth Street in the East Village.
“Thanks for the ride.” She reached for the handle and pulled. The door didn’t open, so she tried it again. After doing it a third time, she turned to him. “There’s something wrong with your car door.”
“No, there isn’t.” Aside from giving him Sofia’s address earlier, he had also instructed Reyes to turn on the automatic child lock.
It took her only half a second to realize what was going on. “You did this on purpose?” She jiggled the door handle again. “You asshole! Let me out! This is kidnapping.” She turned her rage at Reyes. “Open this door now! Or I’ll have you arrested.” He answered by raising the barrier between the front and back seats which only enraged her more.
“We’re here outside your building,” he reminded her gently. “And I promise to let you out, after we talk.”
She slumped back in her seat, scowling like a petulant child. “Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
After a brief silence, she whipped her head toward him. “Fine. Talk.”
Again, she was looking at a spot above his shoulder which irritated him because short of forcing her eyeballs to move, he couldn’t make her meet his gaze. He sighed. “Sofia, I need to apologize for what happened in your captain’s office. It wasn’t my intention to humiliate you.”
“Oh yeah? If coming into my boss’s office with his boss, telling him you had an alibi all this time and then making me look like an idiot wasn’t your intention, what was?”
He wasn’t sure himself. After all this time, he should have come up with a better excuse. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I wanted to put you in your place. And I’m very sorry for my actions and that they hurt you.” Swallowing his pride, he continued. “But I didn’t think Aarons would take it so far. I just wanted you to back off and stop digging into my past.”
“Did you hurt Kevin Hall?”
The question was meant to put him on the defensive, he knew that. But he would not respond to that, because the answer was too complicated. He supposed they could stay here all night staring at each other, but he decided to break the impasse. “Look, Sofia, I’ll answer any other question you have about me—except about Kevin Hall.”
She hesitated but then spoke, “Where’s your fiancée?”
His—oh right. Damn Zac. “I don’t have one. I’m not engaged and I never was.”
Her lips pursed together. “Then why did Vrost lie?”
“To protect me and the company.” That was mostly true. “I’m about to take over for my father as CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company. He couldn’t let it out that I was, uh, partying in a nightclub in such a state. He didn’t want any official report on the incident. As you’ve probably guessed, my family and I are very private. We hate publicity.”
She seemed to contemplate his answer. “I guess that makes sense.”
Her question made him even more curious. “Now it’s my turn.” He slid closer to her, and her incredible scent filled his nostrils. She went still but didn’t try to move away. A good sign, and so he decided to address the other thing that went unacknowledged between the two of them, before all this business with Thomas Dixon. “Why did you keep coming back to Blood
Moon after that night? No, don’t deny it—the bartenders knew who you were and that you didn’t seem like the typical clientele there.” She was human, something he seemed to have forgotten tonight.
Surprise flashed on her face, but she didn’t say anything, so he continued, “And why did you come with me to the roof deck at Blood Moon?”
She inhaled a sharp breath. “I was curious.”
“Curious about what?” Did she suspect anything about the existence of his kind?
“About … you.” Her shoulders tensed, then she turned her face away. “I wanted to see you again. To know if I imagined you or not.”
The confession struck him down like a hammer to the head. She wanted to see him. She came to Blood Moon for him. A primal part of him rose up, and all he could think about was her delicious scent, which was now wrapping around him like an embrace.
“Sofia. Sofia, look at me.” When she didn’t, he reached over to tip her chin towards him, and that familiar sizzle of electricity shot up his arm. “I thought I imagined you too.”
Slate gray eyes peered up at him. She was finally looking at him. “You did?”
“It was driving me crazy. Your perfume. Your eyes. I thought it was a dream.” He’d been half mad the entire time, but the smell of orange blossoms and olives had grounded him. “And when I saw you that next time, I knew I just had to have you.”
“Lucas.”
His name on her lips was like a siren’s call he couldn’t resist. He didn’t wait for her to react or protest as he snaked a hand around her slim waist and pulled her close, his mouth landing on hers. She shivered when their lips touched but yielded to him without hesitation.
When his tongue swiped across the seam of her mouth, she opened to him. Her taste was even better than her scent, and he craved more of her. To devour her. Possess her. Pulling her onto his lap, he made her straddle him. Her skirt rode up her thighs, and he slid his hands down to her pert ass, pushing her hips down so he could feel the heat of her against his growing erection. When she brushed against his hard-on, he moaned, and she pushed her own tongue into his mouth, sweeping inside and tasting him.
Fucking hell, she was magnificent. Her scent bloomed, filling his senses. He moved his hands up her waist to cup her breasts through her shirt. He normally went for curvy girls, but her tits were more than enough for him. He wanted to know what color her nipples were, though he already knew they would taste delicious. His fingers deftly undid the top buttons of her shirt and slid down under her padded bra. Damn, her nipples were already hard, and he rolled a tight bud between his thumb and forefinger making her gasp and pull back. When he tried to capture her mouth again, she evaded him and scrambled off his lap.
Alpha Ascending Page 10
