“I’ll use the one in the hall.” She walked to the door and turned. “You’re sure you can handle this?”
Hell no, I’m not sure. “We’ll be fine.”
She smiled and hurried to her room.
By the time I walked into the kitchen to dump the filthy clothes and diaper into the trash, all three kiddos had converged at the bar.
Chloe cocked her head. “Uncle Gabe, why were you and Aunt Maggie arguing?”
“Adults do that sometimes.”
Zach snickered. “Kids do it too. Mind your business, Chloe.”
She huffed. “Whatever, bonehead.”
The teen glowered at his sister.
I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “All right, munchkins. What’s on the agenda for tonight?”
“Jammie party!” Ryan pumped his fist like a three-year-old rock star. “Woot Woot Woot!”
Zach held up his hands. “Nothing personal, but I’ve got homework.”
Chloe motioned for me to come closer and lowered her voice. “Can we stay up past eight and have junk food?”
I glanced over my shoulder as if to make sure no one stood behind me. “It’s not a party without pizza and root beer.”
A grin split the girl’s face. “And ten o’clock bedtime?”
“Sounds reasonable.”
“I’m out. Yell if you need me.” Zach retreated to his room.
Maggie rushed into the living room in a whirlwind of pink. Her lips, her dress, even her toes were varying shades of girlie. She looked good. Too good.
“Wow, Aunt Maggie, you look pretty,” Chloe said.
“Pretty.” Ryan nodded.
My chest tightened. Maggie had surpassed pretty and gone straight to gorgeous. So much so, I had a sudden urge to tell her to stay home. Instead, I flashed her my signature grin. “Beautiful.”
“Thanks.” She blushed, and once again, my cock sat up and took notice.
I walked to the fridge in search of a beer.
She kissed Chloe and Ryan’s cheeks. “Are you guys okay with Gabe watching you? I’ll only be gone a couple of hours.”
Chloe nodded and glanced at me with big doe eyes. “We are going to have a pajama party.”
Maggie sighed, obviously rethinking her decision to leave. “I love pajama parties. Maybe I should stay?”
Yes. Stay. We’ll have a private party, sans the pajamas. I closed the distance between us and set my hand on the small of her back. Ushering her toward the door before I changed my mind, I whispered, “They already told me you don’t allow junk food and bedtime’s at eight o’clock. Nothing personal Mags…but your idea of a party sounds like a downer.”
Her eyes flashed, and she turned, likely to tell me what I could do with my downer, only to be silenced by the giggling behind me. “Fine, but make sure Ryan doesn’t drink too much, or he’ll soak through his nighttime Pull-Ups, and you’ll be the one stripping wet sheets in the morning.”
I winced. My first adventure with Ella’s diaper had scarred me. I didn’t want to contemplate how much piss a three-year old would produce.
She seemed to have enjoyed my reaction, because she flashed me her first real smile since I’d arrived. “I’ll be home by ten. Do you still have my cell phone number?”
“Stay out as long as you want. And yes, I have your number.” I held the door for her and followed her to the porch.
She hesitated. “Don’t let them talk you into turning the Christmas tree on.”
“Are you kidding? That thing would go up like a Roman Candle. You know it’s February, right?”
“Yes, smartass, I do. But I’ve been busy.” She stared for a beat. “Try not to spoil them too much. You’re visiting. I’m the one who will have to un-spoil them when you go back to your life.”
I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. “Have fun, Maggie.”
6
Maggie
I burst through the doors of the sushi bar and straight into a crowd. I elbowed and excused my way through the sea of people to the hostess stand.
The girl, who looked too young to have a job, let alone wear a top that revealed half her breasts, smiled. “We are on a two hour wait.”
“I’m meeting someone.” I snagged a tissue and blotted the sweat from my forehead. “His name is Justin, Justin Trudeau.”
She covered her mouth to hide her grin.
Surprised someone her age would recognize the name, I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “Not that Justin Trudeau. He has an unfortunate name.”
Confusion crossed her features, but she shook it off and checked her list. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have him on the list.”
“Maybe it’s under Maggie Guthrie?” I checked the time on my cell. I’d arrived ten minutes late.
“I don’t have you either.” She stared at my eyebrows.
“The original time was seven-thirty. We rescheduled for eight.” My voice went shrill.
She motioned to the crowded dining room. “You’re welcome to take a look.”
The man behind me grumbled under his breath.
“Thank you.” I hurried into the main dining room and spotted Justin near the back.
He turned and smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. Evidently, he didn’t like to be kept waiting.
“Sorry I’m late. New sitter.” I bit my lip to keep from apologizing again.
“You’re not sick, are you?” He leaned back as if to put distance between himself and my imaginary germs.
“No, I’m fine.” I motioned for the server, who ignored me.
“I ordered for both of us. The food should be out soon.” Justin gave me a pointed look and wiped his forehead.
“Oh. Um. Did you remember I don’t like raw fish?” I hated it when others ordered my food.
“Trying new things is good for you.” He reached for my hand. “It’s crunch time at work. I’ll be working around the clock. We should get away next weekend. Go to the coast and get some sun?”
I jerked back, almost knocking over the soy sauce in the process. This was our third time out together, definitely not long enough to discuss overnight dates. “I can’t next weekend. Chloe has a dance recital coming up, which means extra practices. Maybe we can do it after tax season?”
Justin stared at me but somehow never met my gaze. “I think it’s great you’re such a good mother to those poor kids.”
I nodded, dreading the speech. Next, he’d say the inevitable “but” followed by a gentle break up.
“They’re lucky to have someone like you caring for them.”
“It doesn’t bother you that I put the kids first?”
“Why would it bother me?” He eased back to allow the server to put the food on the table.
“You’d be surprised how many guys don’t want to date a single mother.” I surveyed the various rolls, all of which appeared to contain raw fish.
“You should take time for yourself. Relationships require work. All relationships.” His eyes darkened and traveled to my chest. “In fact, why don’t we get this to go?”
I forced a laugh. He’d pushed to take our relationship to a physical level since our first date. I thought he’d gotten the message that I intended to take things slow, but it seemed I was wrong about a lot of things. “So… will this be our last date for a while?”
“That depends on your feelings about take out.” He wiggled his brows.
I didn’t have men beating down my door, but ugh. What a jerk. My thoughts drifted back to Gabe. As much of a horn-dog as he was, he’d never put me in this kind of situation.
“Maggie?”
“I don’t know…” What am I saying? The answer is no. I’m absolutely not ready for sex. An image of Gabe’s body moving over mine popped into my head. Where the heck had that come from? “I can’t tonight. I have a new roommate.”
“You let someone move in?”
“Sort of. My brother-in-law and his daughter are staying at the house for a couple weeks.”
; Justin arched a brow.
“He’s in a rough spot.” I stuffed a piece of sushi in my mouth before I said anything else. The flavor of dead fish hit my tongue and curdled my stomach. As discretely as possible, I spat the sushi into my napkin.
“Is this the brother-in-law that dumped you?” Justin curled his lip, but I couldn’t tell if my manners or my roomie had caused the reaction.
I nodded and took a swig of water.
Justin pushed back from the table. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Me either, but it’s short-term.”
Justin waved his hand, dismissing the topic. “Let’s go.”
“Justin, I can’t—”
“That’s bullshit.” He shot to his feet and tossed his napkin on the table as if throwing down a gauntlet. “I won’t share you with another man. Come with me now or we’re over.”
People stared and whispered.
I wanted to crawl under the table and hide, but more than that I wanted to punch Justin Trudeau in the balls. He might as well have painted a huge red A on my chest.
“Maggie?” He thrust his hand in my face.
I forced a smile. “Stop at the twenty-four-hour pharmacy on the way to your place.”
He flashed me a triumphant smile. “I have plenty of condoms.”
“How about lube? I hear it helps when jerking off.”
He turned and stormed out.
I hung my head and fought to keep my emotions in check. Not that I was sad about the breakup—he could good and truly go screw himself. These were angry tears.
The waitress brought a to-go container and the check. Not only had he demanded sex, he’d left me to pay for food I couldn’t stand.
I snatched my napkin from the table to dry my eyes and the half-chewed piece of sushi fell into my cleavage. Let’s just say, the tears started and didn’t stop until I was safely in my car.
I had nowhere to go and no one to see, but I couldn’t go home. I’d rather sit in my car eating cheeseburgers than share my latest disaster with Gabe.
I’d loved him once upon a time. Heck, I thought we’d eventually end up married. For a year, we were the couple everyone envied, if a couple is what you call a whirlwind romance with a scorching hot older man that ended with him giving me a lecture on chasing my dreams, followed by him ghosting me.
I hurried to my car and did what any woman would do in my situation. I called my best friend.
Shanna picked up on the fourth ring. “Hey, Maggie. I thought you had a date with the Mr. Short, Pasty, and Boring?”
“I did…” I’d called for advice, but now that I had her on the line, I didn’t know where to start. “Can I come over?”
“Sure, but you hate the French Quarter. Want me to come to you?”
“No. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” I disconnected before she asked me any questions. Some things needed to be discussed face to face.
Thanks to traffic and drunken tourists, it took me a half hour to reach Shanna’s condo on Chartres Street. She was right when she said I hated the Quarter, but it wasn’t the crowds that bothered me—it was the memories. I’d avoided the area as much as possible since Gabe and I had broken up.
“There you are!” Shanna called from her postage-stamp sized balcony.
I trudged up the flight of stairs and met her at her door. “Sometimes I hate my life.”
She took one look at me and covered her mouth, much in the same way the hostess at the sushi bar had. “Oh, honey. You’ve got a little something…”
“What?”
Shanna pulled bits of tissue from my forehead.
I bit my lower lip to stop it from quivering. That’s what the receptionist was laughing about! Justin, the jerk had let me sit through dinner with bits of Kleenex hanging from my eyebrows?
She draped an arm over my shoulder and guided me to her couch. “You look like you could use a drink.”
“I have to drive home.”
“Okay, but alcohol is why God created ride shares.” She plopped down beside me. “What’s going on?”
“Justin dumped me because I wouldn’t go home with him.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but this is the guy you said had a tongue like an oversaturated sponge?”
“No, that was the one before Justin.” I grinned despite my crappy night.
“I can’t keep up with them all.” She wiggled her brows. “What’s there been? Ten?”
“Three since He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named dumped me, and two of them never got past the first date.” I kicked my shoes off and drew my knees to my chest.
“Don’t let it get you down. This is New Orleans, there are almost as many men as there are rats.” She waved her hand. “You were obviously too good for him.”
“I won’t miss introducing him.”
“Yeah, no kidding. Too bad he didn’t look like the other Justin Trudeau.” She gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Dating sucks, but at least you got back on the horse.”
“I guess.” I hadn’t ridden anything, equine or otherwise, in four years—a fact that brought me to my next problem. “Gabe Marchionni is babysitting.”
Shanna laughed as if waiting for the punchline. When I failed to deliver, she said, “At your house? Gabe, the man who we both hate, is at your house with your kids?”
“They’re his niece and nephews too.” The defensiveness in my voice surprised me.
She stood, went into the kitchen, and returned with a glass of wine. “Spill it.”
I told her everything—well, almost everything. I left out the part about how certain body parts had practically melted at the sound of his voice. “I should go home, right? I mean, it’s crazy to leave him alone with the kids.”
“Don’t you dare. He deserves whatever hell they give him tonight.”
Shanna had a point, but worst-case scenarios played through my mind. “They shouldn’t get attached to someone who isn’t going to be around for long. They’ve had enough loss.”
“I didn’t say you should let him stay. I guarantee, four hours alone with the Marchionni brood, and he’ll run home to Mommy.”
“You’re probably right.” I wanted to call and check in, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.
“I am one hundred percent right.” She downed half her glass. “You’re already second guessing yourself. That man is trouble on two legs.”
Two long, muscular legs... “You’re right. I’m asking him to leave tomorrow.”
“No. You’re telling him to leave.”
I nodded, but I knew I wouldn’t do it—not when it meant throwing a newborn baby out with him. “Shanna, I need a favor.”
“Normally, I’d say anything, but I have the feeling this had something to do with Gabe.”
“It does. I need you to do some digging on a woman named Chantal DuBois. Birthdate is August 21st, 1989.”
“Mind telling me what this is about?”
“She’s his baby’s mother.”
“How do you know Gabe’s baby mama’s birthdate?”
I bit my lip and hung my head. “Ella’s birth certificate and the paternity test results were in the diaper bag.”
“You were snooping?” Shanna choked out a laugh.
“No, I wasn’t snooping. He asked me to look at it to see if I thought it looked counterfeit. I can’t help it if I remember details.” Some people called it a photogenic memory, but I disagreed. My talent only worked with dates and names—a useful skill in history class and trivia nights, not much good for anything else.
Shanna grabbed her phone and hit a couple of buttons. “Give me her info again.”
I gave her Chantal and Ella’s information.
She smirked. “Gabriella Antoinette? He named his kid after himself?”
“The mother named the baby. Anyway, can you do some digging and see what you can find out about Chantal DuBois?” I reached for her wine and took a sip.
Shanna refilled the glass. “Such as?”
“Where she
is. Who she is. Anything. I need to make sure he’s telling me the whole truth. I mean, what kind of woman abandons her baby?”
“I think you should ask yourself, what kind of guy sleeps with someone who would abandon her baby?”
I’d expected Shanna to be hostile toward Gabe but not this hostile.
“I’m sorry. Sure, I’ll see what I can find. Anything else I should know?”
“Gabe’s going to have his attorney check with the lab that did the paternity tests. I can’t think of anything else right now."
“I’ll look into this and get the information you need on the Marchionni Corporation, but I’m worried about you.”
I thought back to the dark circles under Gabe’s eyes and how defeated he’d seemed. “I’m a big girl. I can handle myself around him.”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m not ready to go home. Let’s binge-watch something funny.” I tugged Shanna’s throw blanket off the back of the couch and settled in. “You’re right. A few hours with the kids and Gabe will run for the door.”
“If not, I’d be happy to tell him to get lost.”
7
Gabe
I surveyed the living room. With the exception of the mess, the house looked the same as it had before my brother died. A novel sat on the table beside Joe’s leather chair. A scrap of paper marked the place where the reader had stopped. Too bad my life doesn’t have a bookmark telling me where to begin again.
Chloe and Ryan had sprawled out on a blanket to watch cartoons. Not that I had much time to watch television, but Scooby Doo remained one of my favorites. I settled into the couch to enjoy the goofy dog and his stoner owner.
A split second later, Chloe groaned and covered her face. “Ryan, is that you?”
He shook his head and pointed at Ella.
I winced. “Again?”
It had to happen sooner or later, but I’d preferred later…like after Maggie came home. Scooping the baby in my arms, I went to find reinforcements. “Zach?”
“Yeah?” a voice called from inside the room.
I poked my head inside and grinned. It looked like a laundry bomb had exploded. Clothing covered every surface including the bed. “Hey man, can you help me with something?”
Absinthe Minded: A Mafia Romantic Comedy (Bourbon Street Bad Boys' Club Book 1) Page 4
