Chapter 9 Nina #2
“I got pregnant not long after moving here and meeting Paolo,” she says, looking down at Isabelle with obvious love. “It’s a blessing, of course, but I’ll admit I wish I’d been able to experience more of the city before I got so busy being a mom.”
“I get it,” I say, watching Austin point excitedly at a tank of tropical fish.
“It’s hard to find time for anything else.
But if you ever get a chance for a date night, you should check out the Venetian.
Paolo’s Italian, right?” She nods. “They have gondola rides and everything. Supposed to be incredibly romantic.”
“That sounds lovely. Have you done it?”
I try to keep my smile from dimming. I wanted to do it once, with Eric. Planned the whole thing as a way to reconnect when our marriage was falling apart. He stood me up to gamble instead.
“No, but I hear it’s amazing. You’ll have to let me know if you check it out.”
We exchange phone numbers, and I can feel the beginning of a real friendship. It’s been so long since I’ve made a new friend. Between work and Austin, there’s barely time for the friendships I already have.
We end up following Paolo as he carries Isabelle from tank to tank, Austin glued to his side like a shadow. It’s sweet to watch, even if it makes my heart ache for what Austin’s been missing his whole life.
“We’re going to grab lunch,” Paolo says when we finally make it through all the exhibits. “Would you like to join us?”
“Yeah!” Austin shouts before I can answer, and Quinn laughs.
“That sounds lovely,” I say, because Austin is already looking at Paolo like he hung the moon, and I don’t have the heart to cut this short.
We end up at a cute little cafe with Vegas memorabilia covering the walls. The menu is basic but reasonably priced, which is a relief. I might be making decent money as a stripper, but I’m not exactly rolling in it yet.
Austin orders a milkshake, and I discreetly pull out his pill organizer when the food arrives. Paolo notices but doesn’t comment, which earns him points in my book. The last thing Austin needs is some stranger asking invasive questions about his medication.
“So, Nina, what do you do for a living?” Quinn asks.
I don’t miss a beat. “I work at a bar.” The strip club does have a bar, so it’s almost true. And it’s a hell of a lot easier than explaining that I take my clothes off for money to pay for my son’s heart medication.
The food arrives, and we eat while Austin tells Paolo all about the Marvel superhero movies, after expressing his utter disbelief that Paolo hasn’t seen a single one of them.
“You haven’t seen Iron Man? Captain America? Thor?”
Paolo shakes his head. “I saw the Batman movie when I was a kid.”
Austin looks at me with wild eyes. “He doesn’t know the difference between Marvel and DC.”
I chuckle at the slightly offended look on Paolo’s face.
“Some people just aren’t as cool as you are, bud,” I say.
Quinn laughs and leans in to press a kiss to Paolo’s cheek. “I think you’re cool, sweetie.”
Paolo rolls his eyes, but a smile pulls at his lips as he listens to Austin describe the entire first Iron Man movie while we eat.
The conversation flows easily until Paolo’s phone rings. He excuses himself to take it outside, and I watch through the window as his entire demeanor changes. The relaxed family man disappears, replaced by someone hard and dangerous.
When he comes back inside, the temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees.
“We need to go,” he says, and Quinn doesn’t hesitate. She starts packing immediately, trusting his judgment even though she’s clearly confused.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, but Paolo throws a hundred-dollar bill on the table without looking at it, his attention focused on scanning the restaurant like he’s expecting an attack.
I grab Quinn’s wrist as she hurries to pack the diaper bag. “Quinn, is everything okay?”
Her smile is bright and fake. “Of course. Paolo just has some business to handle. Sorry to cut things short.”
But there’s fear in her eyes, the kind I recognize from my own mirror during the worst days with Eric. I lean closer, lowering my voice.
“If you need help, a place to go, please call me.”
Her expression softens. “Thank you, Nina. That’s very kind.”
They’re gone in under two minutes, leaving Austin and me staring after them.
“That was weird,” Austin says around a mouthful of fries.
Before I can answer, three motorcycles roar into the parking lot. The men who climb off them look like trouble. Big, leather-clad, and armed.
I pull Austin closer as they walk inside, scanning the room like predators hunting prey. Conversations die. Forks pause halfway to mouths. Even the waitstaff seems to shrink back.
They’re looking for someone, and when I catch a whispered mention of Paolo’s name, my stomach drops.
The bikers leave when they don’t find what they’re looking for, but the tension in the room remains. I finish my coffee with hands that aren’t quite steady, thinking about Quinn and baby Isabelle and wondering what the hell kind of life my new friend is living.