Wanted: An Outlaw Anthology

by Lane Hart

  Damon looks down at the table, not meeting my eyes as he says, “My mother spoke French frequently. I don’t know it as fluently as most, but I can make ordering a meal at a place like this look cool.” He flashes me his signature smirk as he meets my gaze.

  He looks so devastatingly handsome that I break our connection first, fiddling with my linen napkin on the table. He spoke of his mother in past tense. She must have died, but I don’t want to pry and ask him any details he’s not willing to give me yet. It’s too fast, too soon, and I don’t want to ruin our date with personal inquisitions.

  The appetizer we ordered comes, and it looks like a green blob on the plate. Damon frowns, and I must be making the same expression on my face, because he asks, “Is that actually food?”

  I laugh. “It’s supposed to be a fancy spinach dip.”

  He sits back in his chair, not even attempting to try it. “I’m not used to places like this,” he confesses.

  That truly surprises me. The way he dresses in three-piece tailored suits, drives an expensive SUV and drops almost a hundred grand at a charity gala like it’s nothing makes me think that he would be very used to places like this.

  “Well, where would you have taken me on our first date if you would have been able to choose?” I ask out of sheer curiosity.

  He starts to speak, but quickly snaps his lips shut.

  “What?” I prompt, wanting to know what he was about to say.

  “It’s stupid,” he huffs with a shake of his head, causing a lock of his dark hair to fall in front of his green eyes.

  “I’m sure it’s not stupid. Just tell me.”

  Sighing, he says, “There’s this little place on the corner of Lexington and seventy-ninth…”

  “Dino’s Pizza?” I blurt out.

  I can see the look of surprise on his face, and his brows furrow as he asks, “You’ve been to Dino’s?”

  “Oh yeah! They have the best pizza.” I stumbled upon the small pizza joint a few weeks after I moved back to Manhattan. It’s on the same street as the soup kitchen I volunteer at, and Dino’s has been my go-to place whenever I get a pizza craving.

  The corners of his mouth lift into a smile. “I know the owner.”

  “No shit!” I exclaim, which earns me a glare from a woman sitting at a neighboring table.

  Damon chuckles and whispers conspiratorially, “Yeah, no shit.” Standing, Damon rebuttons his suit jacket and tells me, “Let’s go.”

  I stare up at him like he’s lost his mind. “What? Right now?”

  “Yes, right now.”

  At first I think he’s joking, but he remains standing, starting down at me expectantly. “You’re serious.”

  “Very,” he says with a sexy, lopsided grin tilting the corner of his mouth.

  Smiling from ear to ear, I stand and slip on my coat. “All right. Can we get our meals boxed up before we go, though?”

  “Sure,” he says with a shrug.

  I know he has no intention of eating his meal and neither do I, but I know just what to do with the uneaten dinners.

  Chapter Ten

  Damon

  I park my vehicle in a parking garage, and Victoria and I walk the few blocks to Dino’s. Downtown Manhattan is always busy, but especially on the weekends when the tourists all roll in. I have this crazy notion to hold her hand, but I suppress it; instead, walking with my hand at the small of her back to make sure we don’t get separated on the busy sidewalk.

  I notice she’s carrying the boxed-up dinners from the French restaurant we just left. I can’t help but wonder if she was lying about the whole Dino’s thing before and is actually planning on eating the fancy French food while I pig out on pizza.

  Wouldn’t surprise me in the least.

  Oh well, it’s her loss. Dino’s is the best, and I for sure won’t be missing out on a great meal tonight.

  I didn’t mean to be so honest back at the restaurant. It wasn’t my intention to let her know I was uncomfortable in the classy place. But for some reason, Victoria draws my true self out. She brings Arlo, the kid inside me that died so long ago, to the surface.

  I know I have to be careful, however. I don’t want her prying or knowing too much. It’s too dangerous. For me and for her.

  “One quick stop,” Victoria says before veering off to a huge, white building.

  We get separated, and I have to practically jog after her to catch up. When I glance at the sign above, I recognize it instantly. It’s the soup kitchen she’s been volunteering at for months. I can remember a few photos of her in the tabloids serving food to the homeless.

  I force myself not to roll my eyes and instead glance around for cameras, thinking she saw the perfect photo op. I don’t see any paparazzi, however, and so I enter the building, confused more than ever.

  The front room is wide and open with hundreds of fold-up tables and chairs to serve meals to the homeless. Victoria walks straight to the kitchen like she belongs here or owns the place, and I reluctantly follow behind.

  “Victoria!” a woman calls before going over to embrace Victoria in a hug like they’re long, lost friends.

  “Hi, Sue.” She turns to me and says, “Sue, this is Damon. Damon, this is Sue.”

  The older woman smiles widely as she lays eyes upon me. She’s definitely not shy as she boldly checks me out from head to toe before her grin stretches even wider. She brushes her brown hair with silver streaks behind her ear and holds out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  I take her hand and gently shake it. “Likewise.”

  “You guys out on a date?” Sue asks, looking between us. When Victoria confirms with a nod, Sue says, “I hope you’re treating our girl here right.”

  “Oh, he is,” Victoria assures her. “We’re about to go to Dino’s for dinner,” she says with a growing smile.

  “Dino’s?” Sue exclaims. “Well, just how did he manage to unlock the key to your heart already?”

  Victoria chuckles and blushes at her words.

  I watch their exchange in amusement, leaning against the wall and smiling.

  “Anyway, we just left a fancy French restaurant and didn’t touch our plates. Thought maybe you would want the leftovers,” Victoria offers before handing over the bag filled with boxes of untouched food over to the woman.

  Sue nods her head emphatically and says, “Any food is welcome here. Thank you so much, Victoria.” She puts the boxes down and then makes a shooing motion with her hands. “Now you two get out of here and enjoy your pizza. I’ll see you in a few days, Victoria.”

  “Okay. See you, Sue.”

  We leave the soup kitchen, and I search the streets for cameras, paparazzi, any reason as to why we stopped in here tonight. I’ve followed Victoria to this place before, not knowing why a mafia princess would give two shits about the homeless other than the opportunity for a publicity stunt and to secure her spot in the tabloids to keep herself relevant.

  But the way she saved our meals and interacted with Sue in there tells me she’s genuinely concerned and actually wants to help out the less fortunate. And that is the complete opposite of the woman I had her pictured as in my mind.

  “You volunteer here often?” I ask as we continue on down the street towards the pizza joint.

  “Yep. I have a lot of extra time on my hands, so I figured I should put it to good use. Sue came to the coffee shop one day asking to put up flyers for volunteers. So, I thought…why not?” A smile graces her lips as she says, “I’ve really enjoyed my time there. The people who come in have nothing, and they are so grateful for every little thing. I try to donate as much time and money as I can to help them out, because they really need it so, so much.”

  I stop in my tracks and stare after Victoria. The woman I thought was one-sided, shallow and a princess by all meaning of the word…is slowly turning into something more.

  When she notices I’m no longer behind her, Victoria stops and turns to me. Her dark hair falls off her shoulder and blows soft
ly in the wind, knocking the air right out of my fucking lungs.

  Fuck, she’s gorgeous. Beautiful without even trying.

  “You coming?” she asks with a breathtaking smile.

  I simply nod, not trusting my voice to sound unaffected, before I follow behind her, confused now more than ever.

  Just when I think I have her all figured out, she throws me for one hell of a loop.

  I thought using Victoria as part of my revenge would be easy.

  But now I know I’ve never been more wrong about anything in my entire life.

  Chapter Eleven

  Victoria

  Dino’s smells divine, like cheese and garlic and grease, and my stomach rumbles from all three aromas combined.

  Damon selects a booth in the back of the small pizza place and orders a thin crust with extra cheese and pepperoni. He grabs a six pack of beer from the fridge and sets it on the table between us.

  Popping open two bottles, he passes me one, and we clink our bottles together before taking a swig.

  Our waitress brings our pizza, and my mouth waters at the sight of it. It’s perfectly cooked and browned on the edges just the way I like.

  Damon is the first to bring a slice up to his mouth. And when he takes a bite, a look of pure bliss is on his face. “Tastes just like I remember,” he remarks after he’s done chewing.

  His comment takes me by surprise. Considering Damon said he knows the owner, I just assumed he ate here often.

  Soft Italian music plays in the background while we pig out on pizza and cheap beer.

  Now this is my kind of first date. That stuffy, French restaurant is fine for people who like that sort of thing, but this is the kind of date I always imagined I’d go on with a guy I really liked…a guy who really got me.

  I like to think Damon is that kind of guy, except I know hardly anything about him. I don’t even know what he does for a living. “So, Damon, what is it that you do…you know, when you’re not attending charity galas and bidding on dates, that is?” I ask with a grin.

  “I’m a data analyst for some large companies. Basically, I stare at numbers all day and try to figure out what the discrepancies are.”

  “That sounds…boring,” I blurt out.

  He chuckles and nods. “Very.” He takes a sip of his beer before setting it back down. “And what do you do, Victoria?” he asks, meeting my gaze.

  “Uh, well, I graduated with a business degree last year, but I…I haven’t put it to good use yet.” I pick at the label on my beer bottle, the condensation making it easy to peel.

  “I’d think jobs in this city are easy to come by,” he says, and it almost sounds like an accusation.

  “They are,” I admit. “I just haven’t found the right…fit yet,” I say. What I can’t tell Damon is that my affiliation with my father has all my potential employers running the other way like their asses are on fire. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to find a job in this city, considering my father’s horrible reputation runs far and wide. I’m guilty by association, I suppose. But I can’t say I really blame them for not wanting to get involved with a ruthless business man moonlighting as a mob boss.

  Desperately wanting to steer our conversation in a different direction, I ask him, “Did you grow up in New York?”

  “Yeah. Not far from here,” he says, not offering any more than that.

  “Same. My father still lives in the same house in Brooklyn that I grew up in.” Needing some liquid courage, I take a long sip of my beer. “My mother passed away when I was a little girl in a car accident.” I don’t want to get too personal right out of the gate, but I’m hoping that Damon will offer me something in return. I wait for him to say something, anything, but he remains silent.

  “And your parents?” I inquire. “Do they still live in New York or…?”

  A dark look passes over Damon’s face. “They’re both dead,” he says, his voice so cold it makes me shiver.

  "I'm sorry," I quickly recant, regretting my words instantly. But the damage is already done.

  Damon stands quickly and says, “I’ll go pay the bill.”

  “Okay,” I say in response, but he’s already out of earshot and heading towards the cash register.

  Sulking at the table, I finish my beer, completely amazed that we finished off an entire pizza and a six pack. Normally I don’t eat or drink that much, but I had a great time tonight. I just hope I didn’t ruin things by bringing up his family.

  My attention is drawn to the other side of the restaurant when I hear a booming voice coming from the kitchen. A short and pudgy, older man with gray hair parted off to the side walks through the swinging door to greet Damon. He’s wearing a grease-stained, red shirt with the Dino’s logo on the front, and it’s stretched thinly over his large belly.

  The two of them exchange a hug like they’re old friends. Damon says something I can’t hear, and then the man’s eyes widen as they land upon me. “You brought a date,” the man says, his loud voice carrying over to me. He motions for me to come to them, and so I do.

  “You were going to come in and not say hello?” the old man accuses Damon.

  “I didn’t want to bother you, Dino. I know how busy you are in the kitchen.”

  Ah, so this is the owner of the pizza place.

  The expression on Damon’s face is one I haven’t seen before. He looks more relaxed. He looks like he’s…home.

  When I reach them, Dino grabs my hand with his big, meaty paw. “And you finally brought a woman with you to meet me.”

  I’m surprised that I’m the only woman Damon has ever brought here, and I can’t help but smile.

  Dino raises my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “Bellissima,” he tells me, and I know it means beautiful in Italian.

  “Hey, now, she’s my date,” Damon mutters.

  Dino releases my hands and lets out a hearty chuckle. “Che begli occhi,” he says before turning to Damon and giving him a wink.

  Damon rolls his eyes and shakes his head at the old man’s flirtatious ways.

  “You look good, my boy,” Dino says. “You’ve come a long way.” Turning to me, he says, “I knew him when he was a boy living alone on the streets. I took him in one night, baked him a big pizza pie…gave him clothes…gave him a job.”

  Dino’s words have my smile falling right off my face. Damon used to be…homeless? I try to picture him as a little boy fending for himself out there in the city, and all I can see is Arlo…hungry and dirty…

  A shudder runs through me.

  Dino beams proudly at Damon. “And now look at him. A businessman who has helped this old man out more often than I can even count.”

  Damon remains stoic, his expression telling me nothing. But now I know that deep down under all that brooding seriousness is a man with a big, kind heart. He might not want to ever admit it, but now I know his little secret.

  Dino takes the check out of Damon’s hands. “You know your money’s no good here,” he says when Damon tries to protest. “Now, you kids go enjoy the rest of your date night. Go dancing. That’s what I used to do with my bella moglie.” His wife.

  Dino stares off in the distance as if remembering a fond memory. “Ah, she loved to dance.”

  “Maybe we’ll go do just that,” Damon says. “I’ll see you soon, Dino.”

  “Yes, come back. And bring your beautiful date to see me again.”

  We leave the restaurant full of pizza and beer and with newly shared knowledge of each other. I feel like I learned a lot about Damon just from his conversation with Dino.

  On the walk back to the parking garage, I tell Damon, “I’m sorry for bringing up the past. I didn’t know about your parents…”

  He gently takes my hand in his, and it feels so nice…so right. “It’s fine. I just…I don’t like to talk about my family,” he mutters solemnly.

  I give him a nod. “Of course,” I tell him, vowing in my mind to never bring up his family again since it’s obviously
a sore subject.

  We stop at a small ice cream shop and order a scoop each — mine, vanilla and his, chocolate.

  We sit across from each other at the small window, people-watching.

  “How’s your ice cream?” he asks me.

  “Delicious.” I offer him the spoon. “Would you like a taste?”

  His eyes narrow a fraction as he says, “I’d love a taste.”

  Something about the way he says it has my lower core tightening. Damon is incredibly hot. Mix that in with the alcohol, and I’m practically ready to jump his bones on the first date.

  I hold out the spoon, and he guides my fingers towards him. He wraps his full lips around my spoon, and the vanilla ice cream disappears into his mouth.

  And I think it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life, as pathetic as that sounds.

  “Delicious,” he says before licking his lips. “Would you like to taste mine?”

  “Yes,” I say, practically panting.

  He gathers up some ice cream on his spoon before holding it out for me. I lean across the table and take the spoon into my mouth. Closing my eyes, I moan in delight at the soft chocolate deliciousness that hits my taste buds.

  When I open my eyes, Damon is staring at me with dilated pupils and labored breaths.

  This is turning him on.

  Hell, it’s turning me on too.

  Maybe it’s the booze…or the first date in general…but I never knew I could get turned on just by eating ice cream.

  “You got some…” His voice trails off as he wipes away some ice cream from the corner of my mouth with his thumb. “Right there,” he says, his voice thick with desire, before swiping the pad of his thumb across my lips.

  Without thinking, my tongue darts out and licks at his thumb, and I can hear him draw in a sharp breath.

  We stay there for another several seconds before he finally pulls away. And I feel like a bundle of nerves by the time we leave the ice cream place. As we walk, Damon holds my hand again, only this time his thumb caresses my skin, only furthering the torture.