“I can’t believe she pulled a gun on you,” Santino was still laughing at Addy. Enrico’s laugh echoed their friend’s.
“I can’t believe she disabled Felix with a couple of smacks,” Addy chuckled as he sipped his drink.
They were in an upscale bar in Manhattan where rich people came to buy overpriced cocktails and to be seen. His plan had been to come, have a few drinks and get Arwen Beddoe, the maniac, out of his head for the night. He had already had one angry call from his cousin who had insisted Arwen was pissed she’d had to pull a gun to make him leave her house. He hoped to get drunk and forget the shitty day he’d had.
“Poor Felix. He’s back in his room eating ice cream because his throat is so sore.”
Addy chuckled at Enrico’s words. “She hit him square on. She wasn’t holding back
