I wish I could say that Enzo showed up at the movies, and we got to share a bucket of popcorn, sip from the same drink, and canoodle like Anika and Damon. However, I was delusional for thinking he’d take me up on the invitation. Instead, he sent me three hundred dollars to cover my movie ticket and whatever snacks or drinks I wanted. Something tells me Enzo hasn’t been to the movies lately because it was way more than I needed.

Yet, despite him texting me that it was good to see me and he hoped I had a good night, I felt stood up. So, Anika reminded me there is one man who won’t leave me hanging. Kyle.

And she’s right.

Since our first date, we’ve spent more time together, and he’s the one chasing me. When I was with Josh, I was the pursuer, and when it comes to Enzo, I pursue him, too. Anytime he’s at Penthouse, I look for him in the crowd, lure him with my gaze, and keep him pinned with conversation so he can’t leave after two sentences. 

On Friday, I went to another dinner with him in a sparkly cocktail dress, and he carted me around, introducing me to business partners. I played the girlfriend part, hanging on his elbow and gazing at him lovingly anytime he said something clever. Although, I didn’t have to try too hard since watching Enzo work a room is like witnessing a lion charm its prey into becoming his meal. 

Then, on Sunday, I went out with Kyle and explored the Palace of Fine Arts. We made out like teenagers in hidden corners, held hands as we walked paths, and went for dinner afterward. It reminded me how much I love the beginnings of relationships when men are sweet and show you the best version of themselves.

I like Kyle—a lot. Yet, my stomach still flips anytime Enzo breathes in my direction. Keira thinks my dad’s illness is causing me to have ‘daddy issues,’ and why I'm intrigued by Enzo. 

Maybe she’s right. 

Or maybe she can mind her business.

But… therapy couldn’t hurt.

There’s a ripple of clacks as my coworkers close their lockers and throw on their jackets after a long shift. My makeup is smeared, and I'm ready to be encapsulated by my bedsheets.

“Hey, cutie. Where was your brother tonight?” Jillian smacks my butt.

“I don’t know. Was Lucas scheduled?”

“Yeah, but he swapped with Shelly at the last minute. Claimed he's sick.”

“Oh…” My brows crease. 

Lucas looked fine this morning, so either he suddenly became sick, or he lied to get out of work. Strange.

Jillian peels off her fake lashes as we make our way to the exit. “There are rumors he’s dating someone. Do you know who the lucky lady is?” 

“No.” I shake my head. 

“I heard it’s Hazel,” another dancer says.

“No way!” Jillian gasps. “Are you serious? She’s married. To a cop.”

“Mmhm, and not just any cop. It’s Mario Caruso.”

“Oh boy.” Jillian pushes through the exit door with her back, a massive grin on her face that says she loves the tea. “You better tell your brother to be careful, Mara. He doesn’t want to mess with that family.”

The frigid midnight air bites my cheeks as we step outside, so I smooth a knitted cap over my curls and ask, “What do you mean by that family?”

Jillian and the other dancer glance at each other, then back at me.

“What? Tell me,” I say.

“Where do I begin?” Jillian counts off on her fingers. “There’s Mario, who is a dirty cop with a terrible temper, then there’s Noelle, his sister, who is ex-military and rumored to be a hitwoman, and then we’ve got their father, Carmine Caruso, the brains of whatever it is criminals like him and Sammy Costello do.”

I suck in a breath. This isn’t good. I met Carmine and Sammy the other night, and the girls confirmed they’re mobsters. 

“Yeah, so if I were Lucas, I’d steer clear of Hazel Caruso,” the other dancer says.

“Anyway, catch you later, girl,” Jillian blows a kiss, and they jog to their Uber.

It’s long after hours, so the surrounding businesses have shut down for the night, and only stragglers like me are left behind. Pulling my jacket closed, I speed-walk to the BART station to catch the subway home. Lights illuminate the sidewalk as cars zip by, their tires rolling through puddles, and I try my best to stay alert. 

After a few blocks, sweat accumulates on my forehead, filling me with regret for not catching a ride. A car alarm goes off, drawing my attention to the flashing brake lights behind me. Goosebumps bloom across my arms with a shiver, so I jog a bit to get to the next block, then return to speed walking when I round the corner. 

That’s when I hear it.

The quick footsteps behind me. 

I rifle through my purse, searching for the pepper spray, but it’s too late.

My body is slammed against the corner liquor store, shattering the glass door, but no one is inside to hear me scream. I claw at my assailant, who wears a horror mask, so I try to pry it off to get a look at the asshole, but he shoves my face into the cracked glass, smearing my cheek across it. I shriek as panic sets in. 

Am I going to die tonight?

Someone shouts for him to leave me alone. So, he grabs my shoulders and drives his knee into my belly. I double over, winded, which he uses as an opportunity to snatch my purse, but I don’t let go. He takes off running and drags me a few feet while I hold on with a death grip. 

“Let go, bitch!” he growls, and for his final blow, he kicks my face.

 I black out. 

◇◇◇

The machine next to me beeps as it monitors my vitals. I hold an ice back against my face with stitches on my cheek and a busted, swollen lip. When the EMTs asked if there was anyone I wanted to call to meet me at the hospital, I called Kyle, but he didn’t answer. So, I stared at Enzo’s name for the longest time before clicking on it. 

He answered after the second ring. 

When the ambulance arrived at the hospital, he was already there, waiting for me, and has been by my side ever since. 

“How are you doing, honey?” a nurse asks.

“My head hurts.”

“Why hasn’t she been given something for the pain yet?” Enzo asks.

“It’s coming.”

“She should have a CT scan for her head and an ultrasound for her abdomen, too,” Enzo says.

“One thing at a time, Sir.”

“Get it done!” he barks, and my wide eyes flash to him.

“Enzo...”

“You have to force them to check everything, Mara,” he paces the side of my bed, his brows furrowed as he rubs his stubbled jawline. “Never take no for an answer.”

“I’m ok.”

“We don’t know that. You could have a concussion or internal bleeding, and they’re taking their sweet time.”

“Hey.” I take his hand. “I’m just a little banged up. I’ve had worse from accidental drops by my Pas de Deux partner.”

He exhales a long breath, studying my face. “I just hate that this happened to you.”

“Me too, but I’m more upset that he took my purse. I had my wallet in there.”

“I don’t want you taking the subway home anymore. I’ll have Charlie drive you from now on.”

“Your driver?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to do that.” I shake my head.

“Mara, you’re not walking around at night alone anymore.” His gaze drifts to the nurse's station, and his lip forms a flat line. “What is taking so long?”

He leaves my side to talk to them and doesn’t look happy while doing it. I shrink in the bed as if it’ll hide my mortification. They probably hate how demanding Enzo is and want us out of here.

But I must admit, it’s kind of nice having him be so protective.

“Mara, oh my God!” My sister walks into the room, her pajamas still on and her hair in a messy bun.

“Lydia?” 

“They called me and said you were mugged.” 

“Who?”

“The hospital! I’m your emergency contact in their records.” She touches my forehead. “You feel warm.”

“I’m fine.” I brush her hand away. 

“No, you’re not. Your face is all busted up, and your hands… ay, Mara.” She rubs the cuts on my palms. “Have they disinfected these yet?”

“Yes.” I pull my hands away.

“Well, don’t get an attitude!”

“I’m not.”

“You try being woken up at three in the morning with a call saying your sister was assaulted.” Her eyes water.

“Lydia…” I touch her arm and soften my tone. “I’m fine. Just banged up.”

“Five more minutes.” Enzo pushes through the curtain that separates me from the other patient beds. Lydia whips around.

“Are you the doctor?”

“No, I’m Enzo Esposito,” He extends his hand with the introduction, but Lydia has no idea what he’s talking about.

“My friend,” I say, and this time, it clicks.

“Oh.” Lydia places her hands on her hips and gives him a once-over from head to toe. “The fifty-year-old.”

“Anyway.” Enzo furrows his brows and goes to my side. “They’re going to run some tests in about five minutes, but in the morning, I’m sending you to my doctor. I don’t trust the care here.” 

“That’s not necessary. I don’t even have insurance.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“It’s kind of hard not to.”

“Mara.” He looks at me with a narrowed gaze. “You don’t have to worry about the bill.”

“Enzo.” I shake my head. “That’s a lot of money.”

Lydia folds her arms. “Yeah, why would you offer to pay for something like that?” 

“Because I can,” he says. “And because I want to.”

“Something like that never comes without strings.” Lydia glares. “What is the catch?”

“There isn’t one.”

“Bullshit!”

“Lydia!” I tug her elbow, but she pulls away and steps closer to Enzo to stare him down.

“Why is a man his age buying you expensive gifts and offering to pay your expensive medical bills?”

Instead of answering her, Enzo directs at me, “I should get going now that you’re in good hands.”

“Wait,” I say, but he kisses my forehead, then nods at Lydia and leaves.

My sister wastes no time shifting her ire at me. “You need to explain what’s really going on."

"Why were you so rude to Enzo?"

“I don’t give a shit.” She arches a brow. “Explain, or I’ll tell Lucas about your friend.”

"That's not fair."

"Want to test me?" She pulls out her phone, and she's not bluffing.

So, I cave and tell her everything. For the remainder of my stay in the emergency room, Lydia is monosyllabic unless she’s speaking with a nurse and will barely look at me. I understand being angry about my choice to be an older man’s arm candy for money, but she called me a prostitute, and that hurts.

When we arrive at my parent’s house, she shifts the gear into park but keeps the engine ticking. It’s uncomfortably silent for several beats as I hold the ice pack to my face. Then she finally reaches over and places her hand on my knee.

“I love you, Mara.”

“I love you, too.”

“I don’t trust that man’s intentions, and I know you. You fall fast and hard. I’m worried he’ll break your heart more than anyone ever could. So, I don’t want you to see him anymore.” 

More silence passes, and I don’t know what to say because Lydia is right. I do fall fast, and I love hard, but Enzo showed up immediately when I called. 

That has to count for something, right?

Lydia sighs, and her shoulders sag. “I already know you’ll continue seeing him, and I have my kids to raise, so I can't tell you what to do, but please be careful.”

We exit the car and don’t say another word to each other about Enzo Esposito.