Gian (Trassato Crime Family Book 1) by Lisa Cardiff

engaged, I never considered how quickly the fiction would snowball into more.
    “I don’t think this is a good idea. Once you introduce me to your parents, there are going to be expectations, and it’ll only drag this out longer.” She picked at the hem of her white shirt. “I want my life back, and I don’t see how perpetuating this lie is going to do that.”
    “You’re probably right, but I already agreed. I can’t back out now. She’s probably started prepping the food and calling our relatives. I can’t let her down.”
    “And you think celebrating a fake engagement is somehow the lesser of two evils? That she’ll somehow be proud you created this illusion only to tear it down in a month or two?”
    I focused on the silent sitcom playing on the television screen. The actors patted each other’s backs and tossed their heads back in laughter. They lifted their drinks and toasted some unknown occasion, accomplishment, or anniversary.
    “Gian,” Evie barked. “Are you listening to me?”
    She slammed the remote onto the black coffee table Carmela had selected along with most of the other furniture. I didn’t care enough to make the effort. For the last few years, I split my time between here and the apartment over the club, but neither of the places felt like home. They were places to sleep. The last time I had a real home was when I lived with my parents.
    I jumped up and headed to the kitchen. I needed a drink.
    “Did Carmela tell you what’s going on with my dad?” I asked without turning around.
    “No.” She followed me down the hall, the soft shuffle of her bare feet unnaturally loud in the confined space. “She changes the subject every time I ask her about anyone in her family.” A regret-laden chuckle escaped her mouth. “If she said more, I might’ve recognized you that night at the bar, and this whole mess would’ve been avoided.”
    “Maybe,” I answered noncommittally. I grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator and held it up. “Do you want one?”
    “No. Alcohol was one of the things I gave up this week. I need to get back in shape if want to land a role anytime in the near future.”
    “Right.” I cracked open the top, and a hissing sound filled the air. “How’s physical therapy and training?”
    “It’s fine so far.” She folded her arms across her waist. “Tell me about your dad.”
    I took a large pull of my beer. “He was diagnosed with cancer two years ago. The treatment was working until six months ago, when things took a turn for the worse. He doesn’t have much longer.”
    She dipped her head, her coppery hair catching the light, making it look like flames dancing around her flawless face. God, she was fucking beautiful. Even the tiny bump on the bridge of her nose somehow added rather than detracted from her looks. Maybe it gave her character or personality. I couldn’t put my finger on it.
    “You don’t know that.”
    I tapped the can of beer against my leg. “He refused to do any more treatment. The chemo and radiation were making him too sick to do anything other than lay in bed. He said he would rather have three or four quality months than a year of hell.”
    She bowed her head and licked her lips, sadness etched into the planes her face. “I’m sorry to hear that, Gian. That sucks.” She paused, and for a second, I didn’t think she’d say anything else. “Carmela never breathed a word.”
    “Yeah, she doesn’t confide in many people. She holds in her emotions and pretends everything is fine.”
    She stared sightlessly at the wall over my head. “Huh. I guess that makes me a shitty friend. I complained to her nonstop about my pathetic excuse for a fiancé. She always listened without complaint when she had real problems.” She rolled her head like she was attempting to unscramble her thoughts. “I suck. No wonder she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. I’m the worst kind of friend: a self-absorbed asshole.”
    I set my beer on top of the