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“That won’t be necessary,” Enrico interrupts. “We have it covered.”

“Oh, it’s no bother. I want to.” Jennifer smiles. “I really need something to do.”

“I said that won’t be necessary,” he asserts.

Diego fills three wineglasses, and then when he goes to fill the fourth, Enrico puts his hand over the glass. “No.” He glares at him.

Shit, why is he being so rude? I begin to perspire.

“The party is already organized.” He sits back in his chair. “I never did catch your surnames, though?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. Earth, please swallow me up.

Jen and Diego look at each other. Diego laughs. “Are you going to do a security check on us?”

Enrico smiles and raises his glass sarcastically. “Naturally.”

“Enrico, ha-ha, such a joker.” I fake a smile across the table and open my menu in a rush. “Let’s just order our food, shall we?”

Fuck.

“My surname is Rogers and Diego’s is Romano,” Jennifer tells him. “What are you wearing to the party?” she asks me, clearly trying to change the subject.

“Where are you from?” Enrico asks.

Oh, hell, what is this? The Spanish Inquisition?

I eye the bottle of wine on the table and I wish to God I could just drain it.

“Sicily,” Diego replies.

Enrico’s eyes hold his. “What do you do in Australia, Jennifer?”

“Ah… um… oh.”

She hesitates, as if she’s being put on the spot. Hang on. Her delay did sound a little suspicious, I do have to admit.

“I told you, I was an events manager.”

Enrico pushes his chair out. “Unfortunately, Olivia and I have to get going.”

My face falls. “What?”

“Now.” He stands in a rush. “But…” I frown.

He holds his hand out and glares at me. “Let’s go.”

I turn to Jennifer, embarrassed. “Sorry. Something has come up.”

With one last death stare to my friends, Enrico dips his head. “Goodbye.”

“Bye.” I force a smile.

Enrico leads me out of the restaurant, and I have to practically run to keep up with him.

“Why are you being so damn rude?” I whisper.

“They’re up to something.”