“What’s on your mind?”
“You had to pick that song. Didn’t you?”
I stopped and turned to her. “I couldn’t have expressed my feelings better if I’d tried.”
If she’d rolled her eyes any harder, they would have done a three-sixty.
“Mags, I’m serious. I’m ashamed of the way I handled things with you. I never should have—”
She walked away.
Maggie didn’t want to talk about it. Point taken. “So was it good for you?”
“What?”
“The kiss.”
She punched my arm. Hard. “I should have turned my head when you came at me all puckered up. My morals go out the window when I’m around you.”
“Don’t blame me for your lack of morals. Blame the whiskey.” I chuckled to cover my frustration and guided her up Ursuline toward Bourbon.
12
Maggie
People crowded the sidewalks, and more would arrive in the coming weeks. Fat Tuesday, the biggest party in the city, would swell the city’s population by millions. Walking with Gabe here reminded me of better days. Days when we’d been happy together. Although much of our time together had involved a bed, we’d spent many hours enjoying the French Quarter.
We entered his bar on Bourbon Street and ran into a wall of noise. The body heat alone made the space twenty degrees warmer than the sidewalk. Gabe guided me to a stool behind the bar and said something to the female bartender.
She glanced at me and nodded.
Recognizing the tall brunette, I grinned and waved at Gabe’s cousin, Jessie.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and frowned at the screen.
“Trouble?” I motioned to his cell.
“No.” Leaning in close, he fondled the beads between my breasts. “I need to go in back and check tomorrow’s delivery schedule. Are you okay here for a few minutes?”
“I’m good here with Jessie. I love people watching.”
“Ten minutes tops.” Gabe winked and disappeared around the corner.
I startled when a man waved a ten-dollar bill in front of my face. “Oh. I don’t work here.”
“I need a vodka cranberry,” he said louder.
I waved at Jessie but couldn’t get her attention. While I didn’t know how to run the register, or how much the drinks cost, I could pour a proper vodka cranberry. I hopped off the stool and pulled the brand name vodka from the top shelf.
The customer nodded.
The liquor bottle in one hand, the dispenser in the other, I poured a long ounce into the glass of ice and topped it off with juice. The technique gave the illusion of equal parts juice and alcohol. I finished with a lime wedge and set the drink on the bar.
“Damn, girl. Good pour.” Jessie smiled and took the cash from the bar.
“Thanks. Gabe taught me eons ago. Bar tips helped pay for my last two years of college.”
“Well, brands are eight bucks, top shelves are ten. Beers are five in the bottle and four from the tap. Everything’s cash. Call me if you can’t find something.” Jessie winked and took another order.
I shrugged and turned to the next customer. Gabe had paid my bills. Helping out tonight seemed fair.
A few moments later, the rush ended, and Jessie nudged my shoulder. “We’re looking for another bartender. It’s that time of year. If you want a job, talk to Gabe.”
I grinned as she pulled a bottle of whiskey from beneath the counter. This would be a great way to get info for my article. “I’ll talk to him about it.”
As if afraid I’d change my mind, Jessie nodded toward the back. “If you’re serious, ask him now. I could use some help later this week.”
“Sure. Why not?” I turned on my heel and hurried down the hall to find Gabe but slowed at the sound of voices.
“It’s all there. There’s no need to count it.” Gabe’s tone made the hairs on my arms stand on end. He didn’t sound pleased.
“You’re too smart to short me, Marchionni. I’ll see you next month.”
I had no idea what I’d overhead, but I knew it couldn’t be good. I ducked into what looked like an employee breakroom and fiddled with the coffee maker.
“Maggie?”
I turned to find Gabe and a uniformed New Orleans police officer staring. My heart thudded against my sternum. Had he paid off a cop? “There you are. Could you show me how to use this? It’s not like the one at home.”
“I’ll leave you to it.” The cop grinned and continued down the hall.
Gabe moved beside me and lowered his voice. “How much of that did you overhear?”
I swallowed hard. “More than I should have.”
“I slip him a little something to avoid problems.”
I reached for the counter and realized my hands were shaking. “Are you finished with tomorrow’s orders?”
“Almost.” He embraced me. “You’re trembling. Mags, it looked far dirtier than it is.”
I plastered on a smile and ducked out of his arms. “I’ll help Jessie until you’re finished.”
Gabe sighed and motioned to the door.
I slid behind the bar and tried to convince myself I’d overreacted. Heck, how many times had I commented on the crooked politicians in the city?
“Two Coronas, no lime,” a familiar voice called from behind me.
I turned, and Justin’s eyes went wide.
“Maggie?” He looked as if he’d swallowed a bee. “You work here?”
A dark-haired woman slid her arm around Justin’s waist and kissed his ear.
He went from pale, to red, to a shade of green.
“Who’s your friend?” My throat tightened, making my voice sound clipped.
“I’m Denise, his wife. Who the hell are you?”
My brain stuttered. I took a step back, bumping into Gabe in the process. “This is Justin and his wife, Denise.”
Gabe’s eyes darkened and the small muscle in his jaw flexed. Justin looked unimpressed, but Denise stared at Gabe like he was the crab legs on an all-you-can-eat buffet.
Justin laughed and kissed the woman’s cheek. “This is Maggie from accounts receivable. She’s upset because we have a strict no moonlighting rule. Isn’t that right, Maggie?”
“Yes.” I turned to take another drink order.
“A table just opened up. Grab it. I’ll get the drinks.” He patted her backside.
Denise cast me one more dirty look and stormed away.
Turning my head, I swallowed hard and willed the tears to stay in my eyes. No way would I let the cheating jerk see me cry—angry tears or not.
Gabe pulled me aside. “Are you okay?”
Glaring, Justin whispered, “Really, Maggie? This guy?”
My mouth fell open. For the life of me I couldn’t understand where he got off judging me. Besides the fact he was married, we’d only dated a few times.
Something snapped. It could have been the pen in Gabe’s hand, or his last shred of patience. He leaped over the bar and grabbed Justin by the collar. He clawed at Gabe’s arms, struggling to break free. Nearby patrons scurried away from danger. In the process, they spilled drinks and alerted others to the situation.
I ran around the bar and set my hand on Gabe’s bicep. “Let him go. He’s not worth it.”
Gabe glanced at me and shoved Justin a foot or so; it didn’t matter as long as the argument ended without violence.
Straightening his shirt, Justin muttered under his breath. “Fucking bitch.”
The right hook caught Justin in the jaw, sending him careening into the bar. I gasped and took a step away from Gabe. I’d never seen him so angry. For that matter, I’d never seen someone punch someone else in the face.
Struggling to gain his footing on the wet floor, Justin put his hand to his jaw and glared.
At some point during the scuffle, his wife returned. “What the hell happened?
“Call the police,” Justin whined and spat blood on the floor.
“She doe
sn’t work in accounting, does she?” Denise pointed at me. “Are you cheating on me with that?”
“No! Damn it. Look at her!”
Gabe’s expression grew dangerous. “Get the hell out of my bar.”
Tears running down his cheeks, Justin screamed, “I’m going to press charges.”
Gabe chuckled and looked over the crowd. “Anyone see who hit this jackass?”
The patrons responded with laughter, several no’s, and shakes of the head. Most of the onlookers went back to partying while others stared with amused grins.
Watching Justin turn and walk out, Gabe drew me to his side. “You okay?”
“I think so.”
Denise gave Gabe one last, longing look, glared at me, and followed her husband.
“I can’t believe you hit him.” My voice cracked.
Gabe looked down at me and winked. “I can’t believe you didn’t.”
If anyone walked into the room, they’d never have guessed a fight had broken out moments before. The music played, laughter filled the air, and life went on. I blew out a relieved breath and pressed closer to Gabe. As much as I wanted to be irritated with him for resorting to violence, I couldn’t. No one had stood up for me before, in a strange way—I felt safe.
The short drive home gave me enough time to wrap my brain around Justin cheating on his wife with me.
How could I have been so wrong about him? He seemed so nice. Why am I always someone’s second best? Why am I never good enough?
“He’s an idiot.” Gabe shifted the car into fifth gear and sped down the highway.
“I’m the idiot.” I rubbed my eyes.
“Bullshit. Even if you’d known he was married, and obviously you didn’t, he’s the one that made a vow, not you.” His eyes on the road, Gabe squeezed my hand.
“Thanks.” I turned to him. “You shouldn’t have hit him. We should have left. What if someone would have called the police?”
“I couldn’t stand there and let him disrespect you. And I’m not worried about the cops.”
Because he’d bought their cooperation. I pushed the thought from my mind. “Jessie offered me a job.”
“You were great when you used to help me out. Interested?”
Thankful to have something to think about besides cheaters or fights or bribes, I smiled. “Maybe. I could use the money. I’d have to work days and find a sitter for Ryan.”
“I can take him with me to my folks. My mother’s already watching Ella. I’m sure she’d love having both of them.”
“You need help during the nightshift, don’t you?”
“Not necessarily. Most of my staff hate working before the sun sets. The tips aren’t as good.” Gabe pulled into the driveway, cut the engine, and brushed his fingers across my cheek. “Look at me.”
I turned and before I talk myself out of it, I kissed him. Be it the stress of the night, Justin’s dishonesty, my mother’s comment, or the fact I’d wanted to jump him from the moment he’d rang my doorbell, I wanted this. I wanted him—if only for the night.
13
Gabe
What the hell are you doing, Marchionni. Slow it the fuck down.
As much as I wanted to carry Maggie into the bedroom and make her forget the name of every man on the planet except mine, it was wrong. So damned wrong.
Sure, she’d kissed me, and judging by the way her hands shook when she tried to unlock the door, she had sex on the brain. However, I wasn’t the kind of guy who enjoyed screwing a woman who had someone else on her mind.
I took the key from her. “Let me.”
Once inside, she wrapped her arms around my neck and tugged me down for another kiss. I had to put a stop to this before I gave in and did something she’d regret.
“Slow down, sweetheart.” I ran my fingers through the length of her hair.
My words seemed to sober her. She took a step back and nodded. “You’re right. I’m just…”
I drew her into my arms. “You’ve had a rough night. Let’s go watch a movie.”
“Have you spent time with Ella’s mother since you showed up here?”
Where the hell did that come from? “No.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be such a drama queen.”
“You’re far from a drama queen.” I thanked God I’d stopped things from getting any hotter. No matter how much I wanted to lick every inch of her luscious body, I had to earn her trust before any nakedness happened. “Put on sweats and one of those giant T-shirts. I’ll meet you in your room in ten minutes.”
“Sweats?”
“It’ll help me keep my hands to myself.” I sat and unlaced my boots.
Maggie stood there staring at me as if I’d taken off my pants instead of my socks.
This woman’s killing me. A grin tugged the corners of my mouth. “Sweats now.”
“Ten minutes.” She turned and headed down the hall.
I walked to my room and listened to the dozen or so voicemails Chantal had left over the previous twenty-four hours. For the most part, they all contained the same demands—money, money, and more money—but her latest text made my blood run cold.
A friend sent me this. Thought you preferred tall brunettes to chubby blondes. Does she know what you do for a living? She seems nice. It’d be a shame if something happened to her.
I clicked on the attachment. “Son of a bitch.”
Someone had taken a pic of me and Maggie at Enzo’s.
Chantal had gone from using Ella to blackmail me to threatening Maggie. This has to stop.
I knew people who could put an end to the situation, and to Chantal, permanently. One call to my father’s guys and I’d never have to worry about her again, but I couldn’t do that to Ella. As much as I’d grown to despise the woman, I couldn’t ignore the fact she was the mother of my child.
I walked into the garage and called the one person I could count on for advice that wouldn’t end in bloodshed—Leo.
“Bro, do you own a clock?” The grit in his voice told me I’d woken him.
“Chantal upped her game.” I checked to make sure Maggie hadn’t come into the kitchen and relayed the latest drama to my brother.
“You think she’s following you?” Leo sounded wide awake and as freaked out as I felt.
“No clue. She told me she was leaving town, but she could have someone else following me. Either way, I need to know where she is.”
“I’ll find out.” He paused and lowered his voice. “What are you going to tell Maggie?”
I imagined telling her the truth about Chantal, the threats, the family business, all of it. I had a good idea how she would react, and it made my blood run cold. What if she threw me out? I couldn’t handle it if she never spoke to me again. “Nothing. I can’t protect her if she tosses me out on my ass.”
Leo remained quiet.
“You there?”
“I’m thinking.” He sighed. “You two aren’t together twenty-four-seven. What happens when she goes out?”
My first thought was to cancel her side gig at the bar and order her to stay in the damned house, but that would go over as well as a pregnant nun at mass. “I’ll call in some favors. Get her some security.”
“If you meant what you said about going legit, let me make the calls. You need to keep your nose clean. Start the way you intend to fly, bro.”
And stop paying off dirty cops. I ran my hand down my face. “Thanks, Leo. Just make sure they’re invisible.”
“Will do.” He disconnected.
I had one more call to make, my attorney. I would have felt bad for bugging the guy so late, but my father compensated him well for the inconvenience. I’d miss this part of the business—the ability to get shit done.
Sal Santiago, the family lawyer since before my folks had left Sicily, answered the phone like it was a Monday afternoon. “Gabe, I was going to call you in the morning. The paternity tests we ran are in. She’s your daughter.”
A silver lining in a cloud
of shit. “Thanks, but we have another problem.”
Other than an occasional mmm hmm or sigh to let me know he was on the line, Sal remained quiet while I gave him the rundown of Chantal’s latest bullshit.
“I’m putting security on Maggie.”
“And Joe’s kids?” He perked up a bit, but I suspected it had more to do with him representing my mother in her custody case than helping me out. “Your father took the guards off them a couple of months ago. If they’re in danger because of the threat to Miss Guthrie—”
“You’re tap dancing into conflict of interest territory, Sal.”
“My concern is for the children.”
I counted to five to clear my head. It didn’t work. “The only kid you need to worry about right now is Ella. I want Chantal’s parental rights terminated by the end of the month.”
“These things take time, Gabe. I filed the motion to establish legal paternity. Now we wait.”
“Will the courts speed things up now that she’s made threats against innocent people?”
“We have to be careful. The judge may not look favorably on you living with Miss Guthrie. I could make the case if you two were married, or even engaged.” He went quiet for a few seconds. “Have you considered handling this the old-world way?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Was he seriously suggesting I order a hit on Ella’s mother? “That’s not an option. Get this done, Sal. Legally.”
“I’ll be in touch. In the meantime, don’t take her calls or delete any of her messages.”
“Understood.” Praying I’d made the right decision, I shoved the phone into my pocket and went to find Maggie.
14
Maggie
Ten minutes seemed like two hours. I’d changed clothes, washed my face, and crawled into bed, but I’d seen no sign of Gabe. After another five minutes, I peeked out the window to make sure his car was still in the driveway.
It was.
Get a grip, Maggie.
I opened the Netflix app and scrolled through the never-ending list of movies. The extra time gave me a chance to replay the previous few hours in my mind. Other than the weirdness with the police officer, Gabe had seemed happy to spend time with me.
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