I looked at the rain.
“Unfortunately.”
He turned immediately to his father.
“Papa, she can’t walk.”
“Marco—”
“Her shoes make squishy noises.”
I closed my eyes.
Nicholas actually smiled.
Dante looked down at my soaked flats.
“We’ll drive you.”
“No, thank you.”
“It’s raining heavily.”
“I noticed.”
“You brought my son to safety.
The least I can do is get you home safely.”
I glanced at Maggie.
Her expression practically screamed not to get into Dante Russo’s car.
I looked back at him.
“I’ll call a cab.”
Dante seemed about to argue, then stopped.
“Fine.”
He reached for his wallet again.
“Absolutely not.”
His hand paused.
“You paid for Marco’s drinks.
I’m capable of paying for my ride.”
“You said your bus left.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m broke.”
Technically, I was close enough that the distinction was mostly pride, but he didn’t need to know that.
Dante studied me for several seconds.
Then, unexpectedly, he nodded.
“All right.”
Marco hugged me before I could prepare for it.
His damp little arms wrapped around my waist.
“Thank you for finding me.”
I rested a hand against his wet hair.
“Next time, stay at school and wait for someone you know.
No adventures through Boston alone.
Deal?”
“Deal.”
When he stepped back, Dante extended his hand.
I hesitated only a fraction of a second before taking it.
His grip was warm and controlled.
“I won’t forget this,” he said.
“You don’t owe me anything.”
Something unreadable passed through his expression.
“Those are different things.”
Then he left with Marco and Nicholas.
The door shut.
For several seconds, Maggie and I simply stared at each other.
Then she hurried around the counter.
“Ellie Morgan, do you have any idea who that was?”
“I’m beginning to.”
“Dante Russo.”
“You mentioned that.”
“No, I mean Dante Russo.”
