Page 20 of The Bluffing Game

“Something like that.” The smell of something delicious wafts out from the kitchen, and I rub my stomach. “Gracie’s cooking up something good.”

“Why is his name Jimmy the Fish? Does he have a lot of fish?” Sage asks me as we walk to the front of the restaurant to the large bay window. “He doesn’t look like the sort of guy who would have a goldfish or anything.” She grins.

“What? Are you saying an older man in his sixties, with a buzz cut and a bunch of tattoos and rippling muscles, can’t have a goldfish?” I peer at her with a bland expression. “Really?”

“I mean …” She shrugs. “He doesn’t seem the most personable, so maybe his best friend is a goldfish.”

“Ha-ha.” I laugh. “Jimmy’s all right. He’s just not one for communication or small talk.”

“Then the job of bartender suits him perfectly,” she says with a straight face.

Once again, I smile. I love her quick wit and sarcasm. It’s effortless, and yet she’s always spot-on.

“He looks like he was in the Mafia or something,” she says, shrugging. “I guess I’m stereotyping, but I’ve seen The Godfather and Goodfellas.” She giggles. “He’d fit right in with the made men in those families.”

“What do you know about made men?” I eye her suspiciously, but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, maybe his name is Jimmy the Fish because people who went against him wound up swimming with the fishes.”

“Ha-ha.” It’s her turn to laugh. “That’s funny. Is that what he tells people to scare them?” She grins at me. “What, does he have a big aquarium at home or something?”

“Yeah, something like that.” I nod, and we step outside.

It’s a beautiful day today; it almost always is in Santa Capinari, which is one reason I love it here. The bakery a few doors down is buzzing with people lined up for fresh, warm sourdough bread and lemon cupcakes.

“That’s Gigi’s Bakery. They have the best bread and pastries in town. You’ll have to try them out someday, especially if you like sweet treats.”

“I do like sweet treats, very much.”

“So do I.” I wink at her. “The sweeter, the better, in fact. And all of them don’t have to be edible.” I’m not sure why I tease her, but I can’t help myself. There’s something about Sage that makes me forget all the tasks at hand, and I want to banter and flirt with her.

“I’m sure you do, but do the sweet treats like you?”

“Oh, I think the sweet treats love me.” I bite down on my lower lip. “I make them ooze with⁠—”

“I think it’s a good thing that I’m a little sour and a lot tart then.” She gives me a once-over. “I’m not interested in oozing with anything.”

“You don’t like to ooze?”

“Do you like to ooze?”

“Very much so.” I grin. “It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

“You’re gross.” She shakes her head. “Thank you for helping me avoid my mother’s call, but I’m ready to get back to work, not whatever this is.” She gestures between us.

I notice that her eyes keep looking down toward my crotch. So, she’s not completely oblivious to me as a sexual being then. The thought makes me happy, and yet I know it doesn’t mean much.

“Why didn’t you want to talk to your mom?” I ask her, changing the subject.

She fiddles with her hands, and her face becomes impassive, like I said the wrong thing. The look seems more dejected than annoyed though, and I know I hit a nerve.

“Since when did you become my therapist?”

“Since never.” I raise an eyebrow. “Is that you telling me to mind my own business?”

“He does have a brain.”

“Ouch … I might start to take your hot-and-cold behavior personally. However, since we don’t even know each other that well, I will give you a pass.”

“Sorry.” She presses her lips together. “It’s nothing personal to you. It’s just that I’m still mad that my mom never told me my dad wasn’t my dad for so many years.” She rubs her fingertips together and licks her teeth before finally looking back up at me. “I’m really not this moody, nor am I rude normally. It’s just been a long couple of months, and I’ve had to put on a happy face because I don’t want Rosie to know, but I’m so frustrated and hurt and … well, I feel like my entire life is a lie.”