by Tami Lund
“How long, Antonio?”
He swallowed thickly. “A week.” He glanced up and caught the shimmer of tears in her eyes before she turned her head. Fuck. He was the lowest form of scum for helping his brother like this.
He reached out, like he was going to pat her arm or something, but then let his hand drop. “I’m really sorry, for what it’s worth.”
She swiped at the wetness on her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter, does it? There’s nothing either of us can do. He’s a fucking god and can do whatever the hell he wants.”
Margot didn’t often swear; at least she hadn’t back when she was married to Gino.
“I wish…” What the hell did he wish? That he could figure a way out for Margot and Nina? Like what? Shipping them to the moon? Because that was the only way they’d ever escape Gino. Shaking his head, he said, “She’s doing all right, although she misses you.”
Margot’s gaze shot to his face. “You’ve seen her?”
He nodded. “You know how Gino is. He doesn’t actually want to spend time with her. He just wants to make you miserable.” Why the hell was he bonding with his ex-sister-in-law? This whole carrying-around-guilt concept was new to him, and he already had more than he could handle. Why the fuck was he adding more to his burden?
She blew out a breath. “I know. I suppose she’s spending all her time with that slutty nanny. What was her name?”
“Zelda. And I’m pretty sure Zelda’s spending her time with Gino’s goons.”
“So nothing’s changed.”
“Afraid not. I took her to the zoo yesterday.”
Margot’s brow furrowed. “Zelda?”
“No, silly. Your daughter. We had a good time.”
The tears were back. She sniffled and said, “I’m glad.”
And then he opened his mouth and said possibly the stupidest thing he could have uttered, given the circumstances. “Maybe next time I take her out, I can arrange for you to see her. I mean, I can’t let you keep her, but…”
Her eyes widened, shiny with unshed tears and new hope. “You’d do that? Seriously?”
Well, now he would. Because the transformation on her face was extraordinary. Just over the chance to see her daughter, even when she knew she’d have to let her go again.
“Yeah. Yeah, I will.”
“I have Nina Sarvilli’s school assignments,” the receptionist called out, and then she said, “Oh, hello, Ms. Sarvilli. I’m so sorry to hear that Nina’s under the weather.”
Margot glanced at Antonio. His heart rate kicked into overdrive while he wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his shorts and licked his parched lips. Would she blow his cover? Not that the school could do anything to him, but if they called the cops and let them know Nina wasn’t really out sick, that could stir up a whole lot of trouble that would piss off Gino. And who the hell knew who would suffer his wrath if that happened.
Probably all of them.
Margot cleared her throat, nodded, and said, “Thank you.”
Without another word, Antonio rushed to the receptionist, grabbed the bag she handed him, and got the hell out of there.
***
He had no idea if Margot still had the same cell number, and they hadn’t exchanged information before he hightailed it out of Nina’s school. So Monday evening, he left Nina with Zelda and told her to get all her homework done that night, because he had a few surprises for her for the rest of the week.
No reason he couldn’t take her to see her mom every single day, was there?
And then he headed to Phoebe’s apartment. She’d told him she had struck up an unlikely friendship with Margot, so he figured he could filch her number from the contacts in Phoebe’s phone.
Also, he really wanted to see her again. Even though he shouldn’t. See her or want to.
What if he told her the truth about his identity? Would she still like him? She was a good girl, a decent human being, a respectable citizen who did not believe criminal behavior was acceptable. Yeah, she definitely wouldn’t want anything to do with him if she knew who she was actually sleeping with.
Hell, he didn’t even like himself anymore.
But, hey, this time it was for a good cause. He was going to ensure Margot got to see her daughter, despite Gino’s ridiculous mind games.
“How was work today?” he asked when Phoebe invited him into her apartment. She had already showered and changed into a tank top and a pair of jeans that hugged her ass in a way that made him imagine cupping those cheeks while he drilled into her over and over until she screamed for him.
“Really good,” she said as she headed toward the living room and dropped onto the couch. “We had a job at this unbelievably gorgeous mansion in Bloomfield Hills. As soon as we arrived, our foreman got a call that his kid had broken his leg, so he took off for the hospital. Then, after he left, the owner of the house came out and said she changed her mind and didn’t want us to do the design she’d originally contracted us for. Problem was, the flowers and shrubs we brought with us were for that specific layout. Normally, the foreman would handle stuff like that, but since he wasn’t there, I stepped up and convinced her she really would be happy with what we had planned. And guess what?”
He sat next to her and placed his hand on her knee. “What?”
“She loved it!”
Her enthusiasm was infectious. He gave her a high five and then gathered her into his arms, hugging her close and resting his chin on her head. It felt really good, so he lifted his hand and stroked her smooth, blonde hair.
“I’m so proud of you.” It was weird to say, but it was true. He wanted her to succeed, to enjoy her job. He wanted her to be happy. “It sounds like you’ve found your calling.”
“It’s crazy.” Her head shifted back and forth under his chin. “I’ve always loved the idea of working with landscapes, even though I’ve never lived someplace where I actually could.”
He leaned back and looked her in the face. “What do you mean?” He should stop asking questions, because he didn’t need to get to know her. He didn’t need more reasons to like her so much.
She turned around to sit in his lap and rest her head against his shoulder. She played with the fingers on his left hand while she talked.
“Well, once upon a time, twenty-seven years ago, my mom went to Vegas with a few girlfriends to celebrate New Year’s Eve. She ended up meeting this guy in the casino and went back to his room with him, and, well, you know.”
Antonio chuckled. “Yeah, I think I got the gist.”
“Anyway, they parted ways in the morning and didn’t exchange phone numbers or even last names. She didn’t realize she was pregnant until she was almost through her first trimester.”
He whistled.
“Yeah. As far as I know, she never tried to find my father. I don’t know why, because she never had very much money and maybe he might have helped, at least financially. Her credit was crap, and she couldn’t have afforded to buy a house anyway, so we lived in an apartment. My entire life, I’ve never had a backyard, and yet I’ve always wanted to play in the dirt, try to make pretty things grow.”
“And now you’re getting to,” Antonio pointed out. She was realizing her dream.
Did he even have any dreams to realize? When he was younger, his dreams had revolved around actually having money to spend. And now that he had that, what did he want? He’d never really thought much about it. He’d never paid attention to how empty his life was until now.
Until Phoebe came into it.
“Are you and your mom close?” he asked. If she kept talking, it would distract him from his own thoughts.
She shook her head. “She never intended to have kids. Wasn’t interested in being a mom. She didn’t neglect me or anything, but she definitely treated me more like a friend than a daughter. And as soon as I graduated high school, she packed up and headed to Arizona. I’ve seen her once in the last eight years. She came up for my college graduation, took me out to dinner, and
went home the next day.”
“Wow.”
She shrugged. “I’m used to being alone by this point.”
“But do you like it?”
“I definitely like this better.” She snuggled closer, curling into his lap. “What about you? What was your childhood like?”
Well hell, he should’ve seen this one coming. That was how it worked when two people were trying to get to know each other. One shared personal information and the other reciprocated. Except his experience with actual, real dating was pretty damn limited.
“Um, a little different from yours.”
“Let me guess. Two parent household. Married. In love. Perfect home life.” She glanced up at him and offered an impish grin. She was teasing him, which normally would be cool, except he didn’t want to lie to her, but he sure as hell couldn’t tell her the truth.
But maybe he should tell her the truth anyhow. Then she’d tell him to get out, that she never wanted to see him again, making the decision for him. Because for some damn reason, he couldn’t tear himself away from her.
“Two out of four. Well, three. I’m pretty sure my parents loved each other. They just weren’t very affectionate. And my mom complained constantly, never seemed happy. They moved here from Italy, and I think they expected the path to the American Dream to be a hell of a lot easier.”
“Did they find it?”
“What?”
“The American Dream?”
He shook his head. “They’re both gone now, and I think they died poorer than when they moved here.” He should’ve helped them more, once he started working for Gino and the money started pouring in. He should’ve attempted to develop a relationship with them, as an adult. But he didn’t want them to know what he’d become, so instead, he avoided them, until it was too late.
“That’s so sad. But at least you’re doing okay. You’re realizing their dream.” She sat up and stroked his cheek. So soft, so tender. Don’t wince.
He absolutely was not living the dream his parents would have wanted for him.
“If it’s three out of four and your mom complained constantly, it sounds like your home life wasn’t exactly perfect,” she noted. Not only had he developed a thing for Good Samaritans but also smart women.
Or maybe it was just Phoebe.
“Uh, yeah. Not really.” How honest should he be? He wanted no secrets between them.
“My dad was a tailor; didn’t make much money but worked a ton of hours. Mom didn’t work. I don’t know why, in retrospect. She didn’t speak English very well, never wanted to learn, so that was probably an impediment. Plus, they were old school. The man provided, the woman took care of the home. Except he didn’t ever provide enough to satisfy her.”
“And they had two kids to take care of, too, right? You and your brother?”
He nodded. “After paying for food and utilities, we barely had enough to put clothes on our backs, and there was definitely not enough for fun stuff.” Like Legos or video games or a basketball hoop in the driveway.
“I get why you went into financial planning then,” she said quietly.
But he shook his head. “It was a fluke, actually. I didn’t do it consciously. I just happened to be really good at math and sort of fell into it.” Once his brother figured out that was where his talents lay, anyway. What would he have chosen as a career had Gino not dragged him into his world?
He’d never know.
“Hey,” he said, repositioning her so that she straddled his legs. “I’m here to celebrate with you, not bring you down. So how about we do something more…uplifting.” He arched his brows and glanced down at his lap.
She chuckled and deliberately rolled her hips. He let out a groan and cupped the back of her head, pulling her close so he could plunder her mouth. She scrabbled at his shirt, tugging it up until he broke the kiss to pull it over his head. There was desperation in both of their movements as they urgently shucked their clothing until she lay on her back on the couch and he sat on his haunches, watching as she took her sweet time covering his stiff, eager cock with protective wrapping.
And then he lay on top of her, staring into her eyes as he slowly made love to her. He could see the crescendo building as her irises widened and went glassy, her face pinked, her chest rose and fell in rapid succession, until a gurgled, garbled sound burst from her lips and she arched her back and her inner muscles clamped around him, her orgasm triggering his own.
Afterward, they sat naked on the couch and ate cereal while watching some silly romcom movie. When it was over, Phoebe declared it time for bed, and he followed her into the bathroom, where they stood side by side and brushed their teeth, and then he lifted her onto the counter and fucked her as urgently as he’d done it slowly earlier.
When they climbed into bed, he pulled her close, spooning her, resting his chin on top of her head. As she drifted off to sleep, he lay there and made wishes that couldn’t possibly come true.
***
Tuesday afternoon, when Zelda was looking for an excuse to pawn off Nina so she could go blow some guy or maybe some white powder—who the fuck knew—Antonio offered to hang out with his niece. And then he texted Margot and told her to meet him at a park Nina had recommended because it had lots of cool playground equipment.
The way Nina rushed up to Margot and Margot hugged her like she never planned to let her go really churned his gut. Nina’s “Can I come home, Mommy?” confirmed it: This situation was giving him an ulcer.
After talking her mom’s ear off for probably twenty minutes, Nina finally gave in to the lure of slides and swings and jungle gyms and rushed over to play. A group of women stood clustered together near the toddler-sized equipment, and two other ladies sat on a bench next to each other on the other side of the play area. Antonio led Margot to a lone bench far from everyone else.
She let out a whoosh of air as she dropped onto the plastic slats. “Thank you for this. I was half afraid you’d turned into Gino and would not show just to torture me further.”
“I’m nothing like him.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He was a criminal, too. He may not assign his goons to dismember and murder people, but he’d laundered enough dirty money to support a small country for a solid decade, at least.
And he wasn’t putting forth any effort to make things right.
Because what the fuck was he supposed to do?
“You’re really not,” Margot agreed. She leaned back against the bench, and he offered her a drink from his water bottle. “Thanks. This really sucks, doesn’t it? Sometimes, I manage to convince myself that I really am free and I can live like a normal person, and it’s like Gino knows what I’m thinking, because that’s always when he pulls stunts like this.”
“If I could figure a way out, I’d take you and Nina with me.”
“I appreciate the thought, but we both know it’ll never happen.”
“Yeah.”
They fell into comfortable silence for a few moments, watching Nina as she raced down the slide and hurried around to climb the stairs and do it again, and then Margot asked, “So how’ve you been? Met anyone worth keeping around for longer than a night or two?” There was a teasing tone to her voice.
But she knew Phoebe, so he needed to be careful here. No wonder he was developing an ulcer. Every move he made, every word out of his mouth, had to be calculated and vigilantly thought out before moving forward. It was exhausting, frankly.
Not to mention, while he didn’t give a fuck whether he told Gino the truth, he hated lying to Phoebe and Margot.
“Your silence speaks volumes,” she commented. He glanced at her; she was grinning. “So who’s the girl?”
He shook his head. “After what you went through with Gino, you think I’d ever get serious about someone, consider bringing them into this world?”
“Fair point,” she said with a sad sigh, even as he wondered, Is it too late? Am I already hooked?
Chapter Eight
GOOD LUCK
GIRL
The workday was over. Finally.
Phoebe and her crew had spent long, grueling hours prepping the grounds of a banquet hall for an upcoming wedding. Mother Nature was still offering up above-average early-summer temps, too. Phoebe was sweaty and covered in dirt and she was counting the minutes until she could climb into the shower.
“Hey, Phoebe, got a minute?”
Her hand poised, ready to swipe her badge at the time clock, she turned at the sound of her boss’s voice. “Sure, Mr. Kline. What can I do for you?”
There’d been no incidents since last Friday. And even though the guys on her crew were already talking about happy hour this coming Thursday, she’d learned her lesson and had politely declined the invitation. So whatever her boss wanted couldn’t be bad, right?
Mr. Kline was a short, robust man with dark skin and stick-straight hair that hung in his eyes when it wasn’t covered by a straw Indiana Jones hat. When he hired her, he told her he’d started as a seasonal employee on a landscaping crew and, through hard work and determination, he’d worked his way to the top and had eventually bought this business from the previous owner when he decided to retire and move to Hawaii.
What Phoebe had heard was, “You can be just like me, Phoebe.” That voice in her head had been the determining factor when she’d been weighing the fact that she’d have to figure out how to survive on a nine-month-a-year income versus finally realizing her dream of working with plants.
“Have a seat,” he said when she stepped into the tiny space attached to the storage facility where they kept all their equipment and supplies.
She glanced around at a scuffed, wooden desk with spindly legs, a couple of filing cabinets that looked like they were approximately a hundred years old, a bunch of pictures of landscape jobs the company had done in the past, and a single, creaky office chair, into which Mr. Kline plopped his generous behind.
Guess she would remain standing.
With his attention on his computer screen, he said, “I heard what you did yesterday after Carlos went to the hospital to take care of his kid.”
