I see Angelo walking across the bar, his face tight, his dark eyes flitting from between me and Chuck. Chuck turns to follow my gaze and shrugs, laughing. “Who’s this wannabe?” he grunts, jutting his chin in Angelo’s direction, apparently forgetting that he just tried to grope me. He seems surprised when he stops right beside us and stares pure death at Chuck. I’d be lying if I didn’t find the way Chuck’s face just drained of color sort of funny. He tries to stand up straighter, but he looks tiny opposite Angelo. “Is there a problem here?”
“I don’t know,” Angelo says. “Is there?”
“No,” Angelo says. “You are not just anything. I suggest you go and find somebody else to party with. Ah, look, it seems you have found some admirers.” He grins, nodding at two members of the bar staff who are s
