I cleared my throat, forcing a new smile, this time a nervous one.
“Yes, but it's just a southern term of endearment! Everyone uses it.” I explained, crossing my arms behind my back so I wouldn't flip him off and tell him to fuck off.
He laughed with obvious contempt.
“I guess what they say about American women is true.”
I made no further effort to keep smiling. In fact, I let the bitterness show completely on my face. “And that is?” I demanded to know.
“Dumb and... easy.”
Oh, hell no!
Before common sense and Oliver's lessons could advise me, my hand collided with the man's face, knocking off his trendy sunglasses and revealing his wide, stunned eyes.
“Get out.” I ordered, watching him turn his face to me very slowly and bring a hand to his cheek, to the spot where I just hit him. “Get the fuck out of the restaurant.”
The man didn't respond, and I felt the courage slowly drain from my chest, leaving room for common sense to tell me that Imade a big mistake. Since it was too late for regrets, I swallowed hard and straightened, tilting my chin up.
“I said get out!” I yelled.
When he stood up and the difference in height became extremely obvious, fear made me back away until I bumped my butt against the nearest table. The man advanced toward me, slow as any predator, and only stopped when he was close enough for me to smell his sweet, alcoholic scent.
If he didn’t look like a demon at that moment, I might have admitted that he smelled extremely good.
“What's your name?”
The question surprised me, and I had to lift my head high to face him. His light green eyes were fixed on me, alert like those of a cat staring at a helpless mouse.
I swallowed hard.
“D-Daisy.” I stammered.
“I know that.” He grunted. “I mean the rest of your name.”
I filled my lungs with air. Something told me I wasn't going to survive this.
“Daisy Peonia Mary Parker.” I blurted out, feeling my cheeks burn and realizing I had the courage of a cockroach.
“Very well, Signorina Parker.” He took another step forward and his body pressed against mine, forcing me to flatten my hands on the table behind me. Was he going to wring my neck? He seemed capable of doing such a thing. “My name is Camillo Vicari, and I need you to understand something very simple...”He purred, lowering his face until his breath brushed my ear, making me shiver. “If you raise your hand, you have to be prepared to take the other.” I swallowed hard. “Don't think just because you're a woman, I wouldn't hurt you. Believe me, I have no problem destroying that pretty little face of yours. But there's something you can give me to remedy this situation...”
Again, hell, no!
I shoved him with all my strength, managing to push him back a little more than a step.
“I'll rip that micro dick off before you can lay a finger on me, you pig!” I spat, poking his chest with my index finger.
For some reason, he looked offended.
“As if I want anything to do with a skinny American girl!”
I opened my mouth to complain, still with my index finger pointed in front of his chest, but then arched my brows, realizing the twists and turns life takes. I had been the fat girl in high school, they even called me piggy, but now here I was. At twenty-nine, being offended for being ‘skinny’.
“Is that supposed to be an insult?” I asked with an inappropriate pang of vanity, momentarily forgetting the situation I had gotten myself into.
The man snorted.
“Bones are for vultures,” he spat. I wanted to tell him to go to hell. In fact, I prepared to do so, but he didn't give me time. “What I want from you, Daisy, is information.”