Dangerous Conceit by Ali Lee

Chapter 1

Over five years ago, Royce yanked her inside a rusty old pickup. The sweat on his forehead still shined through the haze of cigarette smoke as he pointed a gun to her cheek. She tried to escape the prison hell where Moretti kept her in Homestead and had a blazing scar across her back as proof. They left her no choice but to listen. If she tried to run again, somebody else would die.

Lexi pushed her short brown hair behind her ear and walked from the kitchen to the bar of her latest assignment. She was fed up with being Moretti’s slave. This time, he sent her to Miami to take down Crime Boss Angelo Tomassi. The hold he held over her head had to come to an end. This assignment would only end in her death.

A clinking in the kitchen brought Lexi’s thoughts back to the wine glass she was polishing with a white cloth napkin. She glanced around the restaurant where she had feigned the title of bartender for the last week. It was an elegant environment, ritzier from her last job where she had played a prostitute at a rundown motel. She could see herself working at a place like this on a permanent basis if Angelo had not owned the establishment.

“Lexi,” said Seth, the veteran bartender. “We have a customer at table two and I’m hands-full in oysters. Go ahead and take the first table tonight.”

Unlike other jobs, she liked being a bartender. She looked at Seth, a friendly, sandy-haired man a few years older than she was. She guessed he was in his late twenties but did not bother with formalities since she was not planning to stay. She was there for one reason—to get Angelo out of the way. If it was Angelo’s power the crooked mayor wanted, Lexi intended to grant his wish. Knowing more about the situation than anyone did, she alone could make it work.

“Are you sure?” she asked, acting her role well. “I know you’re supposed to have the first table. I could always finish with the oysters.”

Seth shook his head and let out a sigh. “No, you would be doing me a favor. Paolini hasn't been in here for a month, and there’s no telling what he’s here for now.”

Paolini? Rafael Paolini?

Lexi pushed her hair out of the way and took a small breath in, playing off that she knew who he was from the information Moretti showed her about the Tomassi Group. “Is there anything specific I should know about him?”

Seth chuckled and continued shucking. “You don't get to know Paolini. You have to experience that man.”

Lexi believed that was true and assessed Rafa from afar, noting his wavy brown hair was longer than the average suit, but it still was neatly combed back. His posture stayed upright and firm as he took his seat; his brown eyes stayed on the door as though expecting an intruder. Lexi thought he was a good-looking man with a tanned complexion, but his tired eyes caught her attention.

Lexi tied a small black apron around her waist, careful to keep her matching shirt and slacks looking fresh. She never had seen Rafa in person but knew he influenced most of Angelo’s decisions. She could not disappoint Angelo’s confidant and wanted his first impression of her to count. “What does he usually drink?” she asked.

Seth pointed with his knife to a bottle on the top shelf. “Give him a glass of our Screaming Eagle.”

“Pricey tastes,” she muttered and climbed the first few steps of the ladder. Her height helped her to reach the bottle from its wooden cubby without moving up all six steps.

Grabbing a wine glass, she walked in stride to the farthest table away from the door. She gave a moment's pause until Rafa looked up at her. Their eyes met and held fast as he analyzed her mannerisms and social competence. She expected his scrutiny and set the glass on the table, lifting the bottle of wine with a crisp white cloth. “Good evening, Mr. Paolini. My name is Lexi. May I start you off with a glass of cabernet?”

While Rafa continued to stare, Lexi returned his gaze and kept holding the bottle of wine in the air, the bottle becoming heavier as he tapped his forefinger on the table, seeming to think over some thought on his mind. Lexi shifted her weight from one foot to the other in uncomfortable silence with his mental evaluation. With the minutes he made her wait, it seemed like a spotlight was revealing more about her life than she was prepared to disclose this early in their exchange.

“Actually, I think I will have merlot this eve—”

A vibration from the inside of his black suit coat cut him off. He held up one finger to her and clicked the button on his earpiece. “I'm at the Sandy Shores. Why are you calling me? I was just there,” he said and opened the menu to slap it back shut. “Will you give me at least an hour to myself? That’s all I’m asking. After that, you can abuse my time all you want… Yes, I have the arrangements secure… Yes…” His eyes met the ceiling with annoyance. “I have the list in the top drawer of your desk… Yes, I’ll be back there when I’m finished.”

He ended the call and again focused on Lexi. “You must be new. What did you say your name was again?”

“Lexi.” She gave a passing smile and started to turn toward the bar for his merlot when his voice stopped her.

“Short for Alexis or Alexandra?” he asked, causing her to whip back around. His question surprised her. She found it strange that he wanted to engage in personal conversation. Why did he want to know her name?

“It’s short for Alexis,” she answered quickly and tried to redirect his focus. “Did you have a specific merlot in mind?”

He shook his head and smiled. “Bring me your choice, Alexis.” He made a point to personalize their exchange further and kept eye contact for longer than a normal interaction. He must have known her. It was possible, but she should have remembered him first…unless he played on the sidelines. If that were true, he held the upper hand.

Lexi returned to the bar and replaced the cabernet, avoiding Seth's interested expression as she passed in silence. Then she cradled a costly bottle of wine, the Chateau Petrus, and again found herself standing before Rafa.

“Maybe this will better suit your tastes?” She let him view the bottle, deliberately bringing the costly wine to gain his reaction, something that would give her insight on where they had crossed paths.

“Maybe,” he cleared his throat, “but do I look like the type of man who wants the most expensive bottle of merlot you have in stock?” His expression bordered humor, leaving Lexi to stare at him with a subtle smirk. If she was honest, he looked exactly like the sort of man who had expensive tastes. Judging by his clothes, they were hand tailored, and she did not miss the silver Lexus he ordered valet to park.

Lexi bit the inside of her lip to keep from giving him her honest response; instead, she focused on the stressed look in his eyes. “Actually, let me make a suggestion.” She disappeared for minutes before returning with a martini glass filled with a golden liquid. “Try this, Mr. Paolini.”

Rafa took the glass from her hand, suspicious and inspecting the contents. “What is it?” He glanced her way while swirling the mixture around the edges.

Lexi smiled, confident in her choice. “Something that will make you feel infinitely better—Glen Fiddich and vermouth.”

“A Rob Roy,” he said, staring at the small lemon twist in the bottom of the glass.

“I will leave you to your drink.” Lexi did not give him the chance to refuse and took the opportunity to walk away.

From a distance, she kept a watch on him, giving him a few minutes to unwind before approaching him again. She had seen many irritated customers. It was always best to wait until they settled their issue before taking their order. She knew where to draw the line, the difference between making them wait too long and interrupting them too soon. She also needed Rafa to relax if she would find out how he knew her.

After he closed the menu, Lexi again approached his table and smiled, waiting for him to look up and acknowledge her there. “Do you need a few more minutes?”

Rafa looked up again, his brows creasing as if seeing her raised some conflicting series of questions. She could not pinpoint why he might have known her and glanced away, hoping the brick podium between the bar and the main dining would offer an answer. Nothing. She remained in the dark and hoped the evening would reveal the truth.

“The salmon is my menu choice for—”

Lexi followed Rafa’s attention to the door. Three women entered the Sandy Shores, talking louder than they should have in a place like that. The women recognized Rafa, one with long brown hair holding up her hand to gain his notice. He must have been well known to the women in Miami. Receiving such attention when the city held hundreds of men of his caliber was a reflection of the man. Of course, there was no shortage of women in the city either.

The hostess had no time to reach them before their voices echoed louder in the empty place. “Why can't people leave me alone for one damn hour?” Rafa flipped his hand through the air, grumbling as he set down his empty martini glass. “Is there anywhere in this town I can go to be alone?”

He took out his wallet and started to stand when Lexi put her hand to his chest, not realizing what she was doing until she had already touched him. She never had breached the personal space of a customer, her reaction catching her by surprise.

“Sorry.” She looked at her hand and then at Rafa, forcing herself to ignore the slip and return to the situation at hand. She would not let him leave. Without missing a step, she headed to the hostess station to avert the women’s attention.

“Excuse me.” She paused until they looked at her. “Mr. Paolini is looking over some business and needs to concentrate. Why don’t you let us show you to a table by the window, and Mr. Paolini will see you lovely women when he’s finished.”

“Oh.” The brown-haired woman lowered her arm. “That’s true. We can be very distracting. Yes, let Rafa know that we can't wait to have him sit with us.”

Rafa. Lexi thought about the first name basis as she gestured to the hostess to take over with the women. When she came back to take his order, a relaxed smile replaced his frown and creased brow. He leaned his arms on the table, looking more comfortable than before.

“What did you tell those women that actually made them happy to leave me alone? I’m interested,” he said, pleased with the change.

“Yes,” she hummed, guessing that was points for her. Forgetting Rafa was no average customer, Lexi teased him for the small, boyish smile on his face. “Well, I told them that you would take them back to your place when you finished. Promise of your personal time made them very happy.” She shrugged, not being able to help what came out of her mouth and watched Rafa's jaw drop.

“You told them what?” His wavy hair fell forward as he pushed his chair from the table to stand. “Do I look like I want anything to do with a bunch of groupies who see me at a table and think I was made to—”

Lexi looked at him pointedly and held up a finger, stopping the rant before it finished. “And do I look like someone who would subject you to that sort of treatment?”

Unlike how Seth had said, Rafa exposed his more human side to Lexi’s satisfaction. She enjoyed seeing him unravel, exposing the real man from underneath the suit. It gave her a slight advantage and would make it easier to gain information from him.

“Relax, Mr. Paolini.” She grinned. “I told them that their beauty would distract you from important business and that you would talk to them later. But we do have a side door if you’d like the quiet way out,” Lexi hinted, pointing to the kitchen.

Crossing his arms, Rafa’s brow lifted, his eyes never leaving her face. “You like to provoke me—to play with fire?” He picked up the menu and held it out to her, keeping a tight hold when she tried to take it from his hand. “Playing with the devil has consequences,” he said and let go, waving her to the bar. “Go bring me another martini and place my order for the salmon.”

“Right away, sir.” She turned to the bar but gave him a cunning back glance to mask her unease of his words. She had no doubt that he could be the fire behind the Tomassi Group.

As she punched in the order, Seth came back with a ticket from the women. Lexi’s back was facing the customers when Seth stepped beside her to start making the drink orders. “You fared much better than expected.” He placed three tall glasses on the bar and began pouring amaretto and sweet and sour in a stainless steel cocktail shaker.

“I’m not sure what you mean by that. I was doing my job,” she replied, unfazed by his assessment.

“Uh huh,” he remarked as he topped the first glass with a cherry and orange slice.

“What’s that supposed to mean exactly?” Lexi hit send and grabbed a second shaker while pulling out a fresh martini glass.

“Well,” he started to mix orange juice and vodka, “I’ve never seen Paolini have a conversation with anyone—not like that.”

“Oh, come on. Those women were loud. All I did was give him some privacy. If we talked, it was because I saved him from being manhandled.”

Seth smirked at her answer. “Sure about that? I saw him staring at you before those women came in. Seems like you’re attracted.” Seth poured the mixture into the two remaining glasses and placed them on a tray.

“Please,” Lexi scoffed and grabbed the martini she had made. “I was being considerate like a good employee. I promise you that I’m not attracted to him or any other man who comes in here.”

“Is that right?” Rafa rested both arms on the bar, a profuse blush spreading across her cheeks. Seth quickly grabbed the tray and maneuvered around her frozen body, refusing to look at either of them. “That’s too bad for you, Lexi. After saying something like that, what will you do when you change your mind?” He narrowed his eyes and challenged her comment with a smile, this time catching her off guard. “Come here, Alexis.” Rafa signaled with a finger, the demanding look in his eyes different from when she waited on him at the table. It was an expression she knew well; one that hinted danger and made her uneasy, yet she must play off her nerves and resist the intimidation.

Moving closer to evaluate what he would do next, Lexi stood within an arm’s length of him. Both had no regards for who dined in the restaurant and both tested the other’s disposition. Rafa leaned forward and wrapped his hand around her arm. His face neared closer to her ear.

“I’m co-hosting an event later tonight, but tomorrow, I’m free to do what I like. You should go out with me. I’ll pick you up for dinner at six.”

Was that a request or a demand? Lexi had not expected him to ask her out. It threw her off, into a mindset out of character, giving him the upper hand. He was playing her game—and winning. She damned her inability to keep her act.

“Wait,” she said and snapped back to the present. “I can’t. I have shifts all week.”

Letting her arm go, he smiled and gave a wave of his hand. “I’ll make sure that your shift is covered then. I know the owner of this place.”

“You’re going to tell the owner that I’m not coming…so I can go out with you?”

“That’s right,” he said.

“And how will you pick me up? You don't know where I live,” she said, knowing he could gain any information he pleased.

“Oh, I will have no trouble finding out where you live.”

Lexi straightened her posture and looked him in the eyes, concluding there was more to their exchange than being a random bartender he asked on a date. “Have we met before, Mr. Paolini?” she said forthright.

Rafa swiveled, glancing back at her with purpose as he took a few steps to his table, a smug smile on his face. “It’s possible,” he said. “It’s possible those clear blue eyes gave you away.”