Read The Santangelos for Free Online Page B

members about giving out personal information. It pissed him off.
    “I didn’t mean to bother you…” she said softly.
    “No bother.”
    Her eyes stayed on his, holding the gaze a moment too long.
    “It’s simply that—” she started to say.
    “What?”
    “Oh, it is nothing. I should go back to my table.”
    “You sure you’re okay?”
    “Yes, thank you. My cousin will calm down. Underneath all the macho gesturing, he is a good man. The problem is, he has a bad temper when he doesn’t get his own way, especially when he drinks too much.”
    “As long as he doesn’t take it out on you.”
    “He wouldn’t do that,” she murmured. “I am his family.”
    “You’re sure?” Bobby said, realizing that there was something about her that was bringing out the protective streak in him.
    “Yes, I am sure,” she said, sliding out of the booth, a heady combination of demure and seductive, her red dress clinging to every curve. “Thank you for listening to me, Bobby. I should get back to my cousin.” Then she was making her way across the club to her table, a vision in red.
    M.J. left the dance floor and came rushing over, trailed by the girl in the pink jeans. “What was that all about?” he wanted to know.
    “Beats me,” Bobby said, trying to figure it out for himself.
    “She was all over you, man,” M.J. pointed out.
    “Not really,” Bobby answered vaguely.
    “I got eyes,” M.J. said.
    “It was nothing.”
    “Yeah? Didn’t look like nothin’ to me.”
    Before they could get into it further, there was a commotion at Nadia’s table. Her surly cousin was standing over her, screaming in Spanish while shaking his fists in her face.
    Bobby was instantly on his feet, followed by M.J., who was trailed by the girl in the pink jeans.
    Shit! Bobby thought. The last thing we need is a scene on our opening night .
    He rushed over to her table, quickly grabbing the Latin man’s flailing arms. “Cool it,” he warned sternly. “You’re about to get thrown out on your sorry ass.”
    The Latin man glared at him, mean eyes glittering with anger, garlic breath filling the air. “You can keep the puta here,” he snarled. “I’m leaving.” Then, hurling a stream of expletives at Nadia, he shook free of Bobby and headed for the staircase.
    M.J. went to go after the man. Bobby stopped him. “Don’t even bother,” he said. “No scenes. Let the asshole go.” He turned to Nadia. “What the hell happened?”
    Lowering her eyes, she looked away. “I warned you he had a bad temper,” she muttered. “He was upset that I was talking to you. He was under the impression that I was flirting.”
    M.J. threw Bobby a knowing look. “This one’s all yours, Bobby,” he said, hanging on to the girl in the pink jeans, obviously his captive for the night. “Trouble, trouble, trouble. I don’t want no part of it.”
    “Get lost, then. I’m not asking you to get involved,” Bobby said, sitting down beside Nadia.
    “Suits me,” M.J. said, adding a succinct, “Oh yeah, an’ don’t forget you got a girlfriend at home.”
    Bobby threw him a warning look, and M.J. and the girl in pink jeans took off.
    “Well,” Bobby said to Nadia, “seems like your cousin’s a real charmer.”
    “I’m so sorry,” she murmured.
    “Not your fault.”
    “No,” she said, quickly agreeing. “It is not my fault.”
    “Do you live with him?” Bobby asked.
    She shook her head, thick hair swirling. “We are in Chicago visiting his mama— my mama’s sister. He is staying with her. I am at a hotel.”
    “Okay, this is the deal,” Bobby said, deciding that M.J. was right, Nadia was trouble waiting to happen. “I’ll put you in a cab, and the two of you can work out your problems in the morning. Sound good?”
    “Please,” she said, hesitating for a moment. “Can you come with me?”
    “That’s not possible, Nadia. I’m kinda busy—” he began to say.
    “ Please ,” she implored once more, her brown eyes gazing