Renzo + Lucia: The Complete Trilogy - Bethany-Kris Page 0,31

question.

Lucia shrugged. “I have many informants, Daddy. Many.”

Lucian grumbled under his breath, and pulled a pair of keys with a familiar L symbol dangling from the attached fob. “Many, right. John. It’s John. Here—I know it’s not the Mercedes you might have wanted, but the Lexus is better. Coupe. Black with chrome. Better for you in California than the Mercedes will be since it’s a little smaller, and has better get up and go, so to speak.”

Lucia looked at the keys in her hand, silent for a moment. Was it sad that her father offered all that info to her about a car because he thought she might be disappointed he hadn’t gotten her a Mercedes instead? Like a Lexus wasn’t just as amazing … and expensive, too.

It was never more apparent to Lucia how much she was given in life while others had so little than it was right now.

“I love it, Daddy,” Lucia assured him.

Lucian smiled a bit, and passed a glance to her mother. “You haven’t even seen the car yet, Lucia.”

She shrugged. “It came from you—that means I’ll love it, anyway.”

“Mmhmm. Well, we were thinking dinner tonight to celebrate your birthday. How does that sound?”

“I’m at the shelter until nine.”

“Late dinner, then,” her mother put in.

Lucia nodded, still staring at the keys in her hand. “Yeah, okay. A late dinner.”

• • •

“How are we doing for potatoes and carrots down there?”

Lucia finished filling the plate of the waiting woman, and then replied to the kitchen’s manager. “A little low, actually. Maybe three more servings of each.”

“Okay, go grab more and then take your break, Lucia.”

They were nearing the middle of the lunch rush, and that was when it seemed like everyone decided to show up to be fed.

“I don’t mind staying on the line, if you need extra hands.”

The manager shook her head. “It’s fine. You’ve earned your break.”

The woman had an almost conspiratorial smile on her face when she said that, but Lucia just brushed it off. There was always one scheme or another going on in the kitchen. They always made it their first mission to have fun, and make sure the people who came in to eat were having a good time, too.

“Oh, and happy birthday, princess!” the manager shouted at her back as she headed into the kitchen.

Lucia just shook her head as the rest of the kitchen and dining area echoed that same statement. Happy birthday, Lucia. They’d already told her five times or more, but they just had to remind every single person that came through the line that it was her birthday, so she could be told again.

She really did enjoy working here.

As for the princess thing … well, she didn’t mind that so much when it was her coworkers. They never said it with malice, just amusement.

Lucia made quick work of grabbing the waiting containers of heated potatoes and carrots, and bringing them back out to the line to get them ready for whoever would handle her station while she took her break. She was just pulling off the apron, gloves, and hairnet when she first felt it.

Like whispers crawling over the back of her neck, and making all her fine hairs stand on end. Like a clenching in her chest, and butterflies beating in her belly.

His voice only confirmed it when he finally spoke.

“You got a minute, princess, or …?”

Lucia spun around to find Renzo leaning against the food line. He wore his usual leather jacket, and worn jeans with holes in the knees. His typical T-shirt had been replaced with a white button-down. It pulled the whole look off and gave him that I-don’t-give-a-damn vibe that he didn’t even have to try very hard to put off. With his hair pushed back like he’d been running his fingers through it, and his dark gaze on her, Lucia thought Renzo probably had no idea what he looked like standing there.

A woman’s walking wet dream, really.

Bad boy appeal.

Lazy smile.

He looked like trouble all around.

Lucia had settled herself with not trying anymore where this guy was concerned. He was determined to tell her to fuck off at every turn, and frankly, she was tired of being told to fuck off.

So, why was he here?

“Ren,” Lucia greeted, “what can I do for you?”

“I just told you. I want a minute. Do you have one, or not? Seems busy.”

Lucia could have lied, said she’d be working the line, and sent him on his way. Something inside of her felt like a