Chloe gave the two of us a patient smile. “Aunt Maggie makes cakes on birthdays and when she’s cranky or sad.”
“Huh. Girls are weird.” I pulled Ryan around, pinned him to the ground and tickled him until he squealed for mercy.
“I’m not weird.” Chloe launched herself at us and peeled me away from her baby brother.
Zach came upstairs and watched the wrestling match with a wry expression. “I hate to break up the party, but you should go talk to Maggie before she goes.”
I pulled both munchkins off me and stood. “Where’s she going?”
“To work. At the bar. Your bar.” Zach stared. He’d perfected the teenage ability to call adults stupid without saying a word.
“I’m on it.” I took the stairs two at a time, crossed the house, and glanced in Maggie’s room. Not finding her, I went into the master and knocked on the bathroom door.
“Come in.”
I hesitated, wondering if she realized it was me. She’d been almost hostile since I’d come home. “Maggie, it’s me.”
“Come in.” She added more irritation to the two syllables.
“Zach told me you’re going into work?” I walked in and stopped in my tracks.
“Jessie called. I figured you knew.” She leaned over the sink putting on mascara with her mouth hanging open and both eyes open wide.
She’s adorable.
My gaze fell to her ass. Bent over the counter, she looked better than the cake smelled. I took a step forward and set my hand on her hip. “You could be late.”
She glared at my reflection. “I’m still upset with you.”
“Is that why you were crying earlier?” I caressed her shoulder.
She turned and sidestepped me. “I’m in a hurry. We’ll talk about it later.”
I folded my arms and rested my hip against the vanity and considered the situation. Even though her words were less than friendly, she hadn’t flinched when I’d touched her. The hurt look in her eyes concerned me, but she hadn’t asked me to leave the room. The woman didn’t seem to know what she wanted.
“Talk to me now.” I followed her into her bedroom.
Maggie opened her closet and riffled through shirt after shirt. “Jessie suggested I dress sexy. What do you think?”
I think I’ll have a little chat with Jessie. “Jeans and a T-shirt are fine. Sneakers or comfortable boots.”
She pulled out a red, silky number that looked more like a bathing suit than a top. Before I could tell her not to wear the scrap of material, she whipped her shirt and bra off. My heart stopped beating when all my blood went south—a situation that didn’t improve when she shimmied into the red halter top.
“Maggie.” I spoke in a tone more warning than conversation.
“Gabe.” She mimicked my voice.
I wrapped my hands around her arms, pulled her against me, and kissed her smart mouth.
She tensed but didn’t pull away.
I coaxed her lips open with my tongue and grabbed two handfuls of her hair. Tugging hard enough to elicit a soft moan, I nibbled a line down her neck.
Maggie whispered, “I’m going to be late.”
“I don’t care.” I cupped her face and forced her to meet my gaze. “What has you so upset?”
“I’ve had a really bad day, but I can’t get into it right now.”
The hitch in her voice made my heart clench. “I’ve got you. Talk to me.”
“Tonight, after work.”
I rested my forehead against hers. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?” She smiled at me for the first time in days.
“We have sex after. No matter what.”
She furrowed her brow. “What if you’re not happy with what I have to say?”
I kissed the corner of her mouth. “Then I’ll be happy afterward.”
Ella cried in the living room, and I took a step toward the door. “I’ll get her. And I want you home as soon as it slows down.”
Maggie tilted her head. “Won’t I get fired for not finishing closing duties?”
“Only if you wear that red top.”
Twenty minutes later, I kissed her goodbye. She’d changed into a T-shirt. It fit tighter than I would have preferred for work, but I took the high road and kept my mouth shut.
Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined this would be my life. Sure, I’d always wanted a houseful of kids, a wife, and a picket fence, but when I’d imagined my future it’d always included a stay-at-home wife, a nanny, visits to the country club, and time on the golf course. I’d thought I wanted a marriage like my parents had, until now.
Maggie would never agree to give up her career, and I wouldn’t expect her to. Though having some help around the house would be nice, but the woman refused to hire a nanny.
No matter how shitty my day, Ella’s bath time always cheered me up. Her jerky splashes and sweet cooing noises washed away my stress better than single malt scotch.
“Let’s get you dressed.” I released the water from the mini-tub and wrapped her up before heading to the master bedroom.
Determined to be free of her hooded towel, Ella wiggled in my arms. She’d plumped up over the previous three weeks and had started to develop a personality.
I laid her on the changing table and tickled her tummy. Still damp and smelling like soap, she kicked her legs. I sang a couple of verses of a Louis Armstrong song while wrangling her into her PJs. The more I sang, the more she kicked as if determined to keep me from closing the snaps and ending our special time.
“Be still.” Laughing, I glanced at her face.
Ella’s eyes met mine, and she smiled her first, big, bright, toothless, baby smile.
Right then and there, I fell in love. Before that moment I’d protected and cared for her, but this…this was something different.
Ella had carved herself a hole in my heart that nothing, and no one, except she could fill. My daughter had wrapped me around her tiny finger with a smile.
I reached in my pocket for my phone. I had to call and tell Maggie what had happened. Better yet, I’d take a picture and text it to her.
I made faces at Ella, played peek-a-boo, even blew on her tummy, but nothing I did made her smile. Giving up, I picked her up and started humming again.
She freaking smiled.
“You like my singing?” I laid her on the bed and readied my cell. Before I could snap the picture, the dog started barking and Zach called my name.
I carried Ella down the hall and immediately wanted to turn around and lock myself in the bedroom.
The damned dog scarfed bits of cake from the floor, while Zach, also on the floor, tried to pull her back.
Determined to finish her dessert, Cocoa inhaled and gagged at the same time like a malfunctioning vacuum cleaner.
“What happened?” I set Ella in her port-a-crib, grabbed the dog’s collar, and pulled her out of the kitchen.
She might have been a chocolate lab but eating that much chocolate cake would give her the runs.
“Cocoa got under my feet. I twisted my ankle.” Zach held his lower calf.
Chloe and Ryan appeared at the bottom of the stairs and took in the show.
“Let me take a look at it.” Ignoring the fact that Cocoa had followed me back into the kitchen, I knelt beside Zach.
“No. It’s fine.”
“Don’t be silly, let me see.” I reached for his foot, and he moved away.
“Don’t touch it…” His reaction reminded me he was still a kid.
I lowered my voice. “I can look at it now, or we can call Maggie home, and I can take you to the ER for someone else to look at it.”
“No,” Zach cried out. “I don’t need to go to the hospital.”
I reached for his foot again. This time he let him take a look. “It’s not too swollen. Ice it. If it gets worse, we should get it checked out.”
“I’m on it.” Chloe filled a baggie with ice. Unfortunately, she spilled half of it on th
e floor.
“I’m on it, too!” Ryan tossed the cubes into the sink one at a time.
Cocoa retched in the living room, and we all moved at once. I went for the damned dog. Cocoa dodged, ran to the corner, and puked. Chloe ran for the bathroom. Zach scrambled to his feet and set Ryan on the couch.
“Go ice your ankle. I got this.” I pulled the dog out the back door.
Zach hobbled into the living room and sat beside his brother.
Fearing the sight of vomit had made her sick, I hurried to the bathroom to check on Chloe. “You okay?”
“Yep.” The girl practiced her dance moves in the mirror.
In the time it took me to get back into the living room, the dog had come back inside and left another mess. To be honest, I had no idea which end the pile of brown goo had come out of.
Adding insult to injury, Ryan had escaped the couch and was sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor eating chocolate frosting out of the bowl—along with the idiot dog.
I would have cried, but I’d been raised to believe that guys didn’t shed tears, they yelled. “For Christ’s sake, nobody move!”
Ella let loose a scream that hit the same pitch as a knife scrapping a plate.
“You get her. I’ll take Ryan.” Zach limped to the kitchen and yanked the bowl away from his brother. This sent the boy into a full-blown tantrum.
“You need to ice your ankle.” I shouted over the din.
“I will, but right now you’re seriously outnumbered.”
“Okay. You throw Ryan in the bathtub and stay with him. I’ll settle Ella and clean up after the dog.” I dragged Cocoa out back and made sure to turn the lock near the top of the door—out of Ryan’s reach.
Holding Ryan at arm’s length to avoid being slimed, Zach hobbled down the hall.
“This is between you and me. Man to man. The girls don’t need to know.”
“Gotcha.” Zach called from the bathroom.
“The girls don’t need to know what?” Chloe looked at her chocolate-covered brother and squealed.
“Maggie’s cake’s ruined. We’ll make a new one.” Zach motioned to the screaming baby. “Go give Ella her pacifier.
“Boys are weird.” Chloe shrugged and skipped around the piles of chocolate vomit toward the port-a-crib.
I pulled my hair into a ponytail and went to the utility room to fill the mop bucket. I’d never have thought this would be my life, but I wouldn’t trade any of it.
Except I’d exchange the damned dog with a nanny.
26
Maggie
People packed every inch of the bar, most of whom shouted their orders. By now, I could mix most drinks without engaging my brain, which was good because all I could think about were the files I’d hidden in my room, and court.
I doubted Gabe knew about Chantal’s connection to the Marchionni Corporation. If he had, he wouldn’t have started a relationship with her. Would he? I didn’t know the woman, but I feared Chantal would use Ella to extort money from him. I needed to ask the man some tough questions—if we could find five minutes alone together.
“Maggie, go on break.” Jessie called from the other end of the bar.
The crowd had thinned somewhat, but not enough for one person to handle orders. “You sure?”
“Go.” Two longnecks dangling from each hand, Jessie winked. “Before I change my mind.”
In the breakroom, I sank into one chair and propped my aching feet onto another. Opting for fashion over function turned out to be a bad idea. Likewise, tight T-shirt had increased my tips, but I’d had more male attention than I could handle.
I pulled my phone from my back pocket. No texts or missed calls.
It should have been a good thing. Gabe could take care of the kids without my help, but it bothered me. The first couple of months after my sister died had been horrible, and not just because of our grief. The kids had tested me at every turn. More days than not, I’d considered handing them over to Evelyn and running for the hills. The idea Gabe could waltz in and run things without a hiccup made me more than a little jealous.
Deep in the throes of an aching-feet-failure-as-a-mom pity-party, I didn’t hear anyone come in.
A male voice spoke behind me. “Maggie?”
I yelped and turned to find another of the Marchionni boys at the door.
Leo was as luscious as Gabe, though taller and thinner. He had the same green eyes as his brothers, but he wore his dark hair short, accentuating the sharp angles of his face.
“Hi, Leo.”
“Did Jessie call you in?” He looked somewhere between confused and amused.
“Yeah, but I’m on break.” I pulled my feet off the chair.
He took it as an invitation and sat. “Rumor has it you’re going to be my new sister-in-law.”
“So I hear.”
“Never thought I’d see the day.” He chuckled and ran his hand over the back of his neck—a habit he shared with his older brother.
“I hear tales of women from the surrounding parishes organizing to take me down.” I wrinkled my nose. “He was a bit of a ladies’ man.”
“Besides the debacle with Chantal, not really. After you, he put everything he had into this bar.”
“Oh…” The need to remove my foot from my mouth overtook me.
Leo seemed to sense my discomfort and flashed me the patented Marchionni grin. “It’s good to see him happy again. He’s like a changed man.”
“You see a difference in him?” I probably shouldn’t have asked, but they were close. If anyone could give me some insight into Gabe’s psyche, it was Leo.
“Yeah. I would have chalked it up to getting some, but he’s a man in love. All he talks about are you and the kids.” Leo’s smile faltered. “Nothing personal, but he’s a better man than I am. No way could I walk into a ready-made family.”
I laughed and stood. “He’s a better man than I am, too.”
“You guys are good together.”
“Thanks.” I still had my doubts, but overall, I agreed.
He stood and drew me into a hug.
A little voice inside my head reminded me that I had a story to write. I needed to ask about the business, about the family secrets, about something other than Gabe.
Leo released me. “I should let you get back to work.”
“Do you think he’ll be happy taking over for your father?” Not the most eloquent question, but it went straight to the point.
“I do. He’s going to be a family man now, priorities shift.”
“Can he do it? I mean, can he be as ruthless as Papa Joe?”
Leo squeezed my shoulder. “Hell yeah. Do you remember what a dump this place used to be? He worked his ass off to save it.”
“But running a bar and running a company the size of Marchionni Corp are two different things. People come here because they love Gabe. Your father’s not exactly known as a nice guy.”
He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Don’t let Gabe’s good looks fool you. He’s as much a shark as Papa Joe.”
I shuddered on the inside but kept my plastic smile in place. “I worry it’ll change him.”
“It may, but he has you to keep him honest.” Leo headed for the door. “I have some stuff to do in the office. Catch you later.”
I made my way down the hall. The ache in my feet paled in comparison to the ache in my gut. Could the same guy who’d built blanket forts with Ryan run a multi-billion-dollar company? A multi-billion-dollar company that might or might not be a front for the mob?
Absorbed in my thoughts, I collided with a wall of a man. “Excuse me.”
“No problem, gorgeous.” The guy looked me over as if I were a dessert tray. “That’s some frown. Let me buy you a drink.”
“I’m working, but thanks.”
“In that case, I’ll have a gin and tonic, hold the tonic.” He took a step closer, and I took two steps behind the bar.
Feeling more secure with a physical barrier between m
e and the big guy, I poured him a gin on the rocks, added a lime wedge, and set his glass on the bar.
“What time do you get off?” He set a twenty on the bar.
“Back off, Wayne. She’s engaged.” Jessie crowded in beside me.
“No ring. Whoever the yahoo is, he must be a loser.” Wayne smirked. “I’d put a rock the size of a robin’s egg on that pretty finger.”
Jessie grinned at me. “Watch out for Wayne. He’s one of New Orleans’s finest.”
A shot of adrenaline coursed through me. I had absolutely no reason to fear a police officer, or did I? Hadn’t Gabe paid one off? “You’re a cop?”
“A detective. Yes, ma’am. Lying to me is a felony. Are you really betrothed?” The grin never leaving his face, he sipped his drink.
“This isn’t a Jane Austen novel, and yes, she’s really engaged to Gabe.” Jessie’s perpetual smile brightened.
He coughed gin out his nose and mouth.
I moved down the bar and took another order while he cleared the ninety-proof, top-shelf liquor from his nasal passages.
“Tell me how Gabe locked you down without a ring?”
“They’ve been busy,” Jessie said.
“I bet they have…” Wayne wiggled his brows.
I groaned. “Jessie, don’t help.”
She chuckled and took another order.
I wanted to crawl under a rock. Not only did he laugh, the commotion had drawn the attention of several patrons.
“Congratulations.” Wayne shoved his paw across the bar. “I’m Detective Wayne O’Malley.”
“Maggie Guthrie.” I shook his hand.
His expression changed from congenial to knocked for six. “Any relation to Rebecca Guthrie-Marchionni?”
“My sister.”
The detective frowned and looked down at the contents of his drink.
The change in his mood piqued my curiosity. “Did you know her?”
“I worked the accident investigation.”
I held onto the edge of the bar to keep from toppling over. “Can I ask you a question, privately?”
He glanced between me and Jessie as if weighing his options, or maybe he thought she’d save him. Hard to tell.
Absinthe Minded: A Mafia Romantic Comedy (Bourbon Street Bad Boys' Club Book 1) Page 16
