Heat builds behind my eyes, and I catch myself sniffing against a tingling sensation in my nose.
I get that Nero wasn’t expecting the mayor to be here. It was obvious that they weren’t planning to meet. But he didn’t have to act how he did.
Not my type.
I’m just here for the food.
I blink rapidly, tipping my gaze up toward the ceiling.
Don’t you dare cry over him.
Needing to distract myself, I make my way around the table to clear off the dishes the two men left behind.
Jean approaches with a rag when I pick up the last item, and I move out of her way so she can spray down the table when I hear her grumble, “Damn mobster.”
A smile starts to form on my mouth, her usual cynical attitude about politicians amusing me.
That smile slips when I stop and think––
What if she was talking a
