“Nope,” I answer for them. “As the manager here, I’m allowed to deny service to anyone I want, and I’ve decided to deny service to the two of you. So skedaddle, scram, sayonara, sweethearts, don’t let the door hit you on your rock hard bums on the way out.” Just because I’m not their biggest fan doesn’t mean I have to disrespect some rock solid Italian DNA.
They both have dark hair, dark smiles, and dark souls—a trifecta of mobster perfection if ever there was one. It’s Domenico Canelli and Enzo Lazzari, the dicey men from Steph’s not-so-friendly vision last night. At first, her vision seemed to be nothing but a bare-chested fantasy, but after Shep informed us they came from two notorious crime families just down south from us, I wanted nothing to do with them. Not that it stopped me from doing a little research last night.
The taller of the two is Domenico Canelli, aka Dom the Devil. He’s got dark wavy hair, the face of a marble statue, and hazel eyes that I’m betting have hypnotized a woman or two into doing his bidding.
The beefy one with muscles for days is Enzo Lazzari. He, too, has dark hair and the face of an angel gone rogue. His eyes are light as summer rain, and he’s cuttingly handsome. Ten bucks says my sister makes a play for him first. But make no mistake about it, Stephanie’s perverted intentions have doomed her to try to have her way with the both of them.
The taller one nods my way. “I’m Dom. What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Bowie,” I snip. “Call me sweetheart again and see what happens. I’ll give you a hint. You may have come in as a baritone, but you’ll be leaving a soprano—and not the fun kind they portrayed on HBO.”
The one with light eyes and muscles holds up a hand. “Easy does it. I’m Enzo. We come in peace.”
“What are you? Aliens? We don’t want the kind of peace you’re looking to give us. I know exactly who you are and where you hail from. And if you think you’re going to shake us down for money in the name of protection”—I say that last word in air quotes—“you’ve got another thing coming. My boyfriend just so happens to be a member of the Woodley Sheriff’s Department.”
Out of the blue, Shep steps between them with a greedy grin twitching on his far too handsome face, and I can feel my cheeks heating.
“Shep,” I say, zooming around the counter and pulling him away from the mobsters in question. I’ll leave my sister to her wily devices because I might have just overstepped my bounds with my new plus one. “Sorry about that.” I’m not sure whether to laugh or cringe, so I land somewhere in the middle. “I didn’t mean to call you my boyfriend. I was just trying to scare them. I didn’t scare you, did I?”
Before he can answer, Regina all but throws herself at him.
“Oh, thank God you’re here.” She takes him by the hand and leads him to the door before looking back my way. “Shep’s here to see me. We have something important to discuss.”
My mouth falls open as she shuttles him out the door, and walking right through it in this direction is the ghost of Hazel Newton.
“Good afternoon, Bowie.” She gives a friendly wave, and her red hair seems to shed a dozen pink stars in the process. She’s glorious in her ethereal state, glowing, floating, and overall jubilant in her disembodied state. And believe you me, I’m more than thankful she’s bright and cheery. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing worse than a moooody ghost.
She leans in my way. “You don’t have to say anything because I don’t want anyone to think you’re losing your mind, but I want you to know I’ve had it with Regina Valentine’s behavior around here—especially her behavior concerning you, Bowie Binx. You should hear the terrible things she says behind your back. But don’t you worry. I’ve made it a little project to make her think she’s losing her mind.” She belts out a ghostly chortle before sobering up once again. “I was sort of hoping I’d find Holly hovering around the manor so I’d have someone to talk to but no such luck so far.”
I grimace at the thought.
“Don’t worry.” She gives a sly wink. “I’ll let you know if I find a spook or two to keep me company.” She starts to zip off then stops dead in her tracks. Technically, she’s always dead in her tracks, but still. “I almost forgot. I have a huge surprise for you. But I can’t give it to you until later. Let’s just say you won’t believe your ears.” She cackles again as she floats right back out the door.
I head back to the Italian Stallions who have currently corralled my sister—not that she’s complaining. I’m pretty sure Stephanie plans on kicking in both of their stalls sooner or later.
“No to whatever is being plotted, planned, or schemed,” I say, and Steph promptly shoots me a look.
“You mind your own business—as in get outside,” she snips. “I can see Regina accosting your man from here.”
I zip out the door so fast you would think I garnered the ability to float right through it just the way Hazel did.
Shep looks lean and mean with his suit on, his emerald tie just the right touch for this holiday atmosphere. And yet, I don’t like how doggone cute Regina looks as she whispers feverishly, and rather intimately, into his ear.
“All right,” I say, wrapping an arm around Shep. “Playtime is over. Get back to work, Regina.”
Her dark eyes narrow over mine before reverting to Shep.
“Remember what I said.” She holds a finger to her lips. “Nobody knows. We don’t need this kind of gossip getting out.” Her lips curve my way. “And I heard you inside, Bowie. Apologizing to Shep for calling him your boyfriend? If you
