“I know a lot about people,” she countered. “Apparently, more than you do.”
“Barzonni?” Julia Melton called. “Barzonni? You here?”
Mica turned. “We’re here.”
“Your order is up.”
Mica handed Julia cash and she rang up the sale. Mica was glad he had his back to Grace, so she wouldn’t see the confusion he knew was on his face. He’d just answered Julia in the plural, as if Grace and Jules were his family.
Mica was no family man. Or was he?
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