Eight
Gotta Be This Or That
All sounds of eating come to an abrupt stop on Luca’s side of the table.
“Why are you asking me this?” he says, after a long stretch of excruciating silence.
Tossing the ball back in my court, for a match I didn’t mean to start.
“You can do what you want. I mean, obviously. You’re the don,” I answer, awkwardly backpedaling to return to Amber, the cool friend. “I just noticed it’s been taking you an even longer time than usual to come up to bed after dinner. And I wanted to know if you have a girlfriend you’re visiting during that time so that I don’t get ambushed one day. You probably don’t think that could happen but, believe me, I’ve handled too many divorce cases that started with a bitter mistress getting angry at the wife instead of her lover—not that
