SEAN: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 3) (38 page)

“I like that,” Devon said, smiling. “A liquid jewel. That’s exactly how it is there. Like nothing else in the world.”

I wasn’t impressed by them waxing poetic. I wanted to know just why this man was in my house, talking to Nana, somehow aware of both my address and my work schedule. Just how long had he been here? What had Nana told him? What had he seen or said?

“What are you doing here?” I asked him after a long period of silence, both Devon and Nana obviously waiting for me to say something. I was proud of myself. I sounded calm and collected, not shrill and panicky, which were the two things I most definitely were.

“June, I wanted to come by and meet my biggest fan,” Devon said, grinning as he squeezed Nana’s shoulder gently. She beamed up at him and I almost melted—
almost
. I was still way too suspicious of what was happening to relax and think about how adorable Nana was. I could practically smell the bullshit wafting off of Devon, but I wasn’t close enough to detect whether it was still tinged with vodka.

“You let Devon Ray into the house, Nana?” I asked, carefully keeping a smile on my face.

“When someone like Devon Ray comes knocking, you don’t leave him out on the porch,” she said. “Take a picture, June! A better one than before. One with me in it. If that’s okay, Mr. Ray.”

“Please, it’s just Devon,” he said, the very picture of charm. I wondered if maybe it were a magical spell that eventually wore off. Surely to goodness no one could be this charming all the time. Not when I’d seen how disgusting he could be.

“Fine,” Nana said, beaming. “As long as you call me Nana.”

Really, Nana? That put Devon on the same intimacy level with her as me, and they’d only just met. Part of me desperately wanted to burst her bubble about the actor, but I just couldn’t break her heart like that. No matter how badly I wanted to throw Devon under the bus for the way he looked at me and smiled, posing next to her like some long-lost family member.

“A picture, June, a picture,” Nana said impatiently, interrupting my hateful fantasy.

“Here we go,” I said, feigning cheer once more, setting my phone to camera mode. “This is going to be much better than the last photo I took of you, Mr. Ray.”

That perfect smile slipped an inch, and I captured it perfectly.

“Uh-oh,” I said, my own smile getting even wider. “Not your best, Mr. Ray.”

“It’s just Devon,” he said through his smiling, gritted teeth. “Better get another one, just in case.”

“Take a dozen,” Nana hooted, loving every minute of the attention and not caring enough to notice the tension between Devon and me.

I snapped enough good ones to satisfy her and slipped the phone back in my pocket.

“I think at least one of those should go up on social media,” I said, glowering at Devon in spite of the smile I still had frozen on my face. “Those were some good ones, Nana.”

“I thought you didn’t have a social media site,” Devon said, his eyebrows drawing together minutely. He slipped his phone halfway out of his pocket, then seemed to think better of it and jammed it back down in his jeans.

“I don’t,” I said. “But Nana does so she can keep track of all of her friends.”

“It’s the worst thing,” she confided. “So much information. Too much, really. I’d prefer not to know about all their biopsies and colonoscopies and medical procedures. Why would they share something like that with the whole wide world?”

Devon laughed, but he kept his eyes on me. It was surreal enough to be some kind of wonderful dream, with him in our home, only it was a nightmare. I didn’t like the man one bit, and he’d invaded my space, somehow winning Nana over in the process.

“Sometimes people share things online that they don’t realize would be a mistake until after it’s already said and done,” he said.

A mistake? Was he trying to warn me against posting that bad photo of him? Was he threatening me? Here? In front of Nana?

“Or maybe they know exactly what they’re doing,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Maybe they want the world to know just how ugly they, um…their polyps are.”

“No need to be vulgar,” Nana said, scrunching up her nose at me. “Think of how many likes I’ll get from posting a photo like this one. You’re okay with me posting it, aren’t you, Devon?”

“Of course I am,” he said, grinning at her, full of charisma once again. “But only if we both look good in it. From what I can tell, you’re crazy photogenic. I tend to blink.”

“Oh, you’re sweet,” Nana said. “Isn’t he sweet, June? I don’t think any of his photos come out too terribly.”

I made a noncommittal grunt. “The one I took yesterday was pretty wretched.”

“We all have our bad days,” Nana said.

“That’s right.” Devon’s focus was back on me, and I felt like I was in danger of withering. He really knew how to dial up the smolder. “We all have our bad days, June.”

“Sure thing,” I said weakly.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you all,” Devon said, patting Nana fondly on the shoulder as if she were his own grandmother. I couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealousy at the way she beamed up at him lovingly. “I know you’re both busy people. I was just wondering, though, June, if you could please help me find my car. I parked it a couple of blocks away because I got the directions mixed up, and I’m not familiar with the neighborhood, especially now that it’s dark.”

“I have no idea where you parked,” I said. It sounded a lot like Devon wanted to get me alone.

“Oh, June, for goodness’ sake,” Nana complained. “Help the man. He’s not from here, like we are. It’s completely natural to get turned around. He asked you nicely.”

Sure, he asked me nicely, but I was pretty certain that he was going to stop being so nice once we were outside. Outside, I wasn’t sure what he was planning to do.

“Nana, it was such a pleasure,” Devon said. “I really do think you’re my biggest fan.”

“I bet you say that to everyone,” she said, giving a girlish laugh. I had to smile behind my hand at her.

“I’ll be back in a couple minutes, Nana,” I said, raising my eyebrows in a warning to Devon. “Any longer than that and you better call someone.” Someone like the cops, maybe, or the paparazzi to scare the man away.

“Oh, June, you’re such a teaser,” she said. “Go on, then. I’m sure Devon has places he needs to be.”

“I do, in fact, several,” he confirmed. “Thank you again for your hospitality.” I noticed for the first time the pair of teacups and the plate of cookies between them. God—how long had he been here? All evening?

“Be right back, Nana,” I said again as a reminder to him. He followed me to the front door and I practically pushed him through it.

“Hey, careful,” he said as he stumbled out onto the front stoop.

“You be careful,” I shot back lamely. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here, anyway? This is my house. How did you even get the address?”

“It wasn’t hard,” he said. “I called the pizza place. Got some more details about you. Made some other calls until I found the place.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, hard, and rubbed my forehead. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re even here.”

“Look, I’m just trying to do some damage control,” Devon said, his million-watt smile fading from his face. It was almost a relief, as if I were going to go blind if I kept staring at it for too long.

“What kind of damage control?” I asked, frowning at him. “And why did you have to drag Nana into this? When she figures out what kind of person you really are, you’re just going to disappoint her. Couldn’t you do without that on your conscience—disappointing a little old lady?”

“She was nothing but pleased in there,” he said. “The only person who would disappoint her would be you.”

What ripe new bullshit was this? “Watch your goddamn mouth,” I warned him. “You don’t know anything about Nana, and you know even less about me.”

“Delete the photo, June.”

“The photo I just took of you and Nana? Hell, no. She’d kill me.”

“You know that’s not the photo I’m talking about.” He scowled, and I instantly realized just the photo he was interested in and laughed.

“Oh, no,” I said. “That photo isn’t going anywhere. It’s too good to delete. I’m probably going to make it my wallpaper on my phone. It makes me laugh every single time I see it.”

“If that photo gets out, it would be a PR disaster,” he groaned.

“What kind of PR disaster?” I asked, cocking my head at him. “The kind of disaster where your fans see how you really are? That you trash hotel rooms? That you can’t clean up after yourself? Would it be the bottle-of-vodka-you-can-see-in-the-background type of disaster? Drinking alone, in the middle of the day? Bingeing on pizza? Is that a disaster? That’s not so bad. Or would it be the fact that you tried to force yourself on me? That’s a pretty big disaster, I’d think.”

Devon surprised me by laughing. “Okay, I might’ve let you have that one until that last part. I definitely didn’t try to force myself on you. You entered the hotel room of your own volition. And you seemed really into it.”

I didn’t like being called out like that. Of course I’d been into it—at first. Devon Ray was an attractive, rich, and very famous man. I had been alone with him in a hotel room, and I had been ready for something to happen…until I hadn’t been. Until I’d stopped being starstruck and faced the music—that Devon was just a horny lush.

“You’re pretty on the outside, Devon, but I got a taste of what was inside,” I told him, lifting my chin defiantly, skirting around his accusation. “I stand by what I said to you, and I’ll repeat it, because you were so drunk, I don’t think you probably remember.”

“I remember everything,” he snapped.

“Then remember this. Just because you’re rich and handsome and famous doesn’t mean that you’re entitled to everything you think you want. I’m a human being, and I have every right to say no to you. I don’t give a shit who you are. And you can’t come stalking me to my house, endearing yourself to my grandmother.”

“I wanted to pay you for the pizza,” he said, his shoulders hunched forward protectively, almost sheepishly. “I realized that, after everything, I forgot to pay you, and that’s inexcusable to me. I know you work hard.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Let me pay for the pizza,” he insisted, reaching in his wallet. “I’m sure you probably got in trouble because of it.”

“I didn’t get in trouble,” I said. “Keep your money. I don’t want it.”

“You’ll take it.”

“The hell I will.”

“Just let me do this,” Devon said, thrusting too many bills at me. “Yesterday was shit, okay? I get it. It was a shit show. I’m trying to make it up to you right now.”

“All you’re doing is trying to toss money at a problem,” I told him. “I don’t want your money.”

“But you’re a problem?” He peered at me.

“If you keep harassing me, yes. I am a problem. A very big problem.”

“You want me to leave, don’t you?” he asked. “To get off your property and never come back? Is that pretty close to the truth?”

“Pretty close.” I wanted him to go do a few other things, too, but I was pretty sure he could use his imagination for those without me having to spell them out.

“You’d never see me again if you showed me the photo you took of me and deleted it in front of me,” he said. “I’d leave immediately, and I’d never come back.”

“What are you going to do if I don’t?” I asked dubiously. “Move in? Become best friends with Nana?”

“I…I don’t know. I just really want that photo gone. That photo is of me in a really bad place, and I don’t want anyone seeing it.”

I actually pitied him for a moment before I remembered that he figured out where I lived and befriended my grandmother just to try to manipulate me into doing something.

“You’re just going to have to trust me that I won’t show it to anyone else,” I said.

“How can I trust you? How do I know you’re not going to sell it?”

I was a lot of things—self-righteous, fiercely protective, a little bit subversive, maybe, but never cruel. Never vindictive. I knew then, looking at how pathetically desperate Devon was, that no matter what I said or he did, I’d never sell that photo. I’d never even post it myself. No matter what he’d done, no matter how he’d acted toward me, I couldn’t do something like that to him. It would harm his image, and his image was his life.

I gave a long sigh. “Look. I would never do that, okay? If you knew anything about me, you’d know that I’d never do that.”

“That’s the problem,” he said. “I don’t know anything about you. In the kind of business I’m in. You don’t know who you can trust.”

“It’s Hollywood, Devon. Not the mob.”

“You’d be surprised,” he said wryly. “But I guess I don’t have anything I can do except trust you. Even though I don’t know you.”

“You know my address,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, there’s that.” He jammed his hands in his pockets and made a move to walk away. Just as I’d suspected. He hadn’t needed my help getting back to his car. He wasn’t turned around in the slightest. He’d asked me to come out here for the sole purpose of trying to get me to delete the photo. It was that important to him.