The waitress came to take our order, her perfume hitting me before her voice did. She barely looked at me, her eyes locked on Luca like I didn’t even exist. The way she smiled at him made my stomach knot. Her lips were painted a glossy red, and she leaned across the table, just a little too close, holding her notepad like she was performing.

Luca didn’t seem fazed. His expression stayed calm, unreadable as always, but when she asked what he wanted, his voice came out smooth and deep. He ...