“Yes, it’s perfect.” Shanna embraced me.
“Careful, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d softened toward Gabe.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I have to like the big jerk. He makes you happy.”
“I have one more for her to try on.” Clair helped me down from the platform.
“This is the one. I don’t think you can top it.” I followed her into the dressing room.
She pulled a silk scarf from her pocket. “I don’t want you to see yourself until I’m finished.”
Part of me wanted to get the heck out of there, but she’d piqued my curiosity. I sat while she tied the scarf over my eyes.
Nearly blind, I had no choice but to allow Clair to put me into the next dress. The woman fastened something on my head, and I knew—she’d put me in a wedding gown.
I trembled as Clair led me to the platform. Behind me, my friends gasped and whispered.
Clair untied the scarf.
I almost fainted. I wore the dress Clair had described as old Hollywood glam. The sapphires and diamonds around my neck probably cost more than a house. The silky fabric shimmered in the light, hugging every curve. I turned to see the back of the gown and fell in love. It dipped low with pearl buttons running from my lower back to the end of the fluted skirt. No lace, no fussy embroidery, just ruching across the bodice hips and thighs.
“What do you think?” Clair tilted her head.
“I… I…” I burst into tears.
Clair’s mouth moved wordlessly before she managed to speak. “It’s all right, dear. A lot of women cry the first time.”
31
Gabe
At seven o’clock sharp, a limo stopped in front of the salon. I’d waited my entire life for tonight, and I wanted it to be perfect. I’d shaved and dusted off my favorite Armani suit for the occasion. Hell, I’d enlisted the help of a saleswoman to convince Maggie to buy a cocktail dress.
I opened the glass door. No matter how beautiful the salon, they all smelled the same, like chemicals and incense. Both made my nose twitch.
Shanna and Dahlia smiled, and the guy standing beside them looked like he’d eat me alive given half the chance, but I didn’t see Maggie.
I took several steps forward before my brain clicked in and zeroed in on the platinum blonde bombshell in the tight black dress. Until that moment, I would have thought it impossible for her to look more beautiful, but she blew me away.
Maggie took a step forward and smiled.
My pulse beat a cadence loud enough to drown out the chatter around me. I dipped my chin to hide my grin and held my hand out toward her.
Her smile went straight to my heart. She took several quick steps, glanced over her shoulder at her friends, and slowed her pace.
The little devil. I bet they’d coached her on how to walk in stilettos.
I motioned for her to turn.
Maggie stopped and spun in a slow circle. “Do you like my hair? The sales lady at the dress shop suggested I lighten it for the gala. Is it too much for a mother of four?”
“You look amazing, and who says mothers of four can’t be sexy?” I needed to get her to dinner fast or I’d throw the plan out the window and take her straight to the hotel. I set my hand on the small of her back and guided her to the limo.
“Where are we going?” She slid across the leather seat.
“I’d like to take you home and peel that dress off.” I traced a line from her knee to her inner thigh.
Maggie grabbed my hand. “Later. I’m starved. Wherever we’re going, I hope food is involved.”
I knocked once on the glass separating us from the driver, and the limo pulled from the curb. I couldn’t stop touching her. “I love the dress. Did you find something for the gala?”
“Yes, but…” Maggie lowered her eyes. “I spent a lot of money today.”
“I don’t mind.” I hooked my finger under her chin and brushed my lips across hers. “It’s worth every penny to see you happy.”
“I let the salespeople talk me into a few things I don’t really need.”
“Maggie, stop worrying. I wouldn’t have given them permission to charge me if I didn’t want to spoil you. Where are your bags?”
“Shanna’s taking them to her place. We’re getting dressed for the gala there.”
“You should get dressed at home, with me.”
“I want to surprise you.” The limo came to a stop, and she peeked out the dark glass at a wrought iron gate. “Where are we?”
“You’re not the only one who’s full of surprises.” My voice cracked like that of a fourteen-year-old kid. I had to get a hold of my nerves before I ended up making a fool of myself.
I stepped out of the car before the driver came around. Music floated over the brick walls, and the aroma of our dinner made my stomach growl—loud.
Maggie took my hand. “Seems I’m not the only one who skipped lunch.”
“I’ve been busy today.” Lame, Gabe. Real Lame. “You took my breath away in the salon. I barely recognized you.”
Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “Thanks.”
“Full disclosure, I asked Clair to talk you into going to the salon.”
“Why?” Maggie’s mouth fell open.
“Because I wanted you to feel beautiful.” I ran my thumb over her lower lip. “There’s nothing wrong with taking a little time to yourself.”
She blushed again and glanced out the window. “Where are we?”
“Enzo uses this for special events.” I led her through the gate and into a private courtyard.
A fountain bubbled in the center of the space and various types of flowers and trees lined the perimeter. A single table with a white cloth sat under a canopy of twinkling lights. Enzo’s people had outdone themselves.
I pulled out her chair. Once she sat, I nodded to the musicians. The soulful blues music quieted to a conversational volume. Perfect. So far, so damned good.
“You did all of this for me?” She glanced from the pale pink roses on the table to the candles burning throughout the garden.
“Yes.” I hoped what I lacked in words, I’d made up for in effort. I needed her to know she was the most precious thing on this earth to me.
“Thank you. I’m overwhelmed.”
“We don’t get out much. I wanted to make tonight special.” I pulled a piece of paper from my jacket and handed it to her.
“What’s this?”
The ink had barely had time to dry on the court order. “It’s temporary for six months, then Ella’s legally mine.”
Maggie squealed, jumped from her chair, and hugged me. “That’s awesome.”
One down, two to go… I kissed her lips but pulled away before things crossed from PG to rated R. “Dinner first. We have plenty of time for that later.”
“What time did you tell your mother we’d pick up the kids?” Maggie eased into her chair.
“Ten in the morning. We have a room at the Monteleone.”
The look in her eyes made my cock sit up and take notice. I’d never make it through dinner at this rate.
A waiter came forward and filled our wine glasses, while another poured water. When they finished, another came forward and presented the first course. “Dungeness Crab Gratinée.”
God, bless Enzo. I nodded my approval. Food now, sex later. “Did you enjoy your day?”
“Not as much as you did.” Grinning, she sipped her wine.
“Everything all right at the bar?” What am I doing? I had important things to discuss with her, and here I was making small talk.
“Busy for an afternoon.”
“It’s that time of year. Thanks again for covering the shift.”
“I met a strange woman. She said she knew Rebecca from Chloe’s preschool. She’s been in a few times. She ended up coming shopping with us tonight.”
“Did you recognize her?” I sat back in my chair.
“No. She seemed, awkward. Not the kind of woman Rebecca w
ould have befriended.”
“Be careful. Your name’s been in the paper and you can learn a lot about a person online. I hate to say it, but the bar brings out the crazies. It’s not a good idea to let bar patrons into your personal life. Including shopping trips.”
Maggie nodded and looked away.
“The harassing calls you’ve been getting… I had someone in IT security put a tracker on your phone.”
Her mouth fell open. “What? How?”
“I borrowed it one morning while you were writing. I don’t pretend to know how it all works, but the guy was able to trace the calls. Do you know anyone who works at the Hilton on St. Charles Avenue?”
“No.”
Pleasantly surprised she hadn’t taken my head off for stealing her phone, I eased forward and drew her hand. “We’ve contacted the general manager for a list of employees. We’ll find out who’s doing this and put an end to it.”
“Thank you. Between the calls, the woman at the bar, and dress shopping, I’m a wreck.” She pulled away and pushed her food around on her plate. “What else did you do today? Besides get one step closer to keeping Ella forever?”
“I visited my father and went over some contracts. Though my mind wasn’t in it.” I took a bite, but while delicious, the buttery crab hit my stomach hard. I needed to steer the conversation to happier topics quick or I’d blow the entire night.
“What were you thinking about? Ella?”
“You. Tonight. Us.”
The waiters returned with fresh glasses and a new bottle of wine. I lifted my glass, swirled it, smelled it, and took a sip, before nodding to the sommelier. He filled Maggie’s glass, and another staff person served the main course of broccoli agnolotti and striped bass with braised Cipollini onions.
Maggie sipped her wine and smiled. “Are you feeling better about the job?”
“Yes and no. It’s not as much fun as the bar, but the hours are good, and it forces me to use my brain.”
“So, you’re not just a pretty face?” She laughed and took a bite of her fish.
“I’ve been told I’m pretty good in the sack, too.” I met her gaze and neither of us looked away. The staring contest ended with Maggie lowering her eyes and me chuckling. I loved this woman.
Maggie cleared her throat. “Why not let Jessie take over? She’s more than capable.”
“If it were up to me, I’d make her managing partner and keep a piece for myself. Unfortunately, that isn’t how my father does business.”
“Your father’s retiring.”
“And when he does, things will change. Until then, I’ll deal.” I pulled a second envelope from my pocket. “For you.”
She unfolded the handwritten letter and pressed her hand to her chest. “Is this legal?”
“Santiago filed it along with a motion to dismiss my parents’ case against you.”
She blinked back tears. “Your mother wrote this…about me? Did you ask her to?”
Evelyn Marchionni hated two things, protestants and admitting she was wrong, but she’d done just that. “It was her idea. She’s impressed with the way you accepted Ella as if she were your own. Not to mention, she’s thrilled you civilized me.”
Maggie started to speak, but my phone interrupted her. “You should answer.”
I turned the sound off and slid it back into my pocket. “Not tonight.”
I managed to get a couple of bites of my fish down before my cell vibrated again.
She raised a brow.
“Ignore it. Please, enjoy your dinner.”
The third time it rang, Maggie sighed. “At least check voicemail. Something could be wrong with the kids.”
“You’re right.” I scrolled through my call log, and the phone buzzed in my hand. This time my father was on the line. “Hey, Pops. Everything okay?”
“No, everything is not okay. I received a call from Scott at the Picayune. There’s an article about the family coming out in the paper tomorrow.”
I stood and walked away from the table. “You mean about the business?”
“I mean exactly what I said. Someone wrote an expose on the family.”
Son of a bitch. Why tonight? I drew a breath but couldn’t stop shaking. My father had ordered the execution of an employee over breakroom gossip. What would he do to a journalist who’d dared to investigate the family? “How bad is it?”
“I haven’t read it, but he said it’s personal. He agreed to squash it and find out who the hell’s been poking around, but it’s going to cost us.”
“I’m in the middle of something. Can this wait until morning?”
He went into a coughing fit that had the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. When he came back on the line, he could barely speak. “Could the Guthrie girl have done this?”
“No. It wasn’t her.”
“Be here at ten in the morning.” He disconnected.
I glanced back to Maggie. She couldn’t have? Could she?
“Everything okay?” She started to rise.
I motioned for her to sit and returned to my chair. “Problem with work. Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” I signaled for the staff to clear our plates. I needed to get this done before anything else blew up tonight.
One refilled their wine, while the other whisked the dishes away. Once they left the courtyard, I reached for her hand.
Maggie furrowed her brow. “You’re trembling.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re not yourself tonight. What’s wrong?”
I kissed her knuckles. “There are some things I need to say to you.”
32
Maggie
I’d finished the article, pulled a shift at the bar, went dress shopping, had a makeover, and received some amazing news, but I was exhausted. More so, I was worried about Gabe.
He stared at me with the oddest expression. If I didn’t know him so well, I’d have thought he had a case of the nerves. His stiff posture differed from his typical laid-back style. Maybe it was the clothes. After all, I sat straighter in the dress than I would in jeans.
No. It’s not the suit. Something’s wrong.
He kissed the back of my hand. “There are some things I need to say to you.”
I nodded, confused and somewhat frightened. I’d never seen this side of him. Sure, he’d been melancholy and introspective when he’d first showed up on my doorstep, but I blamed that on becoming an instant father. He’d gone back to his normal self within a couple of weeks.
“You probably already figured out that my family is old fashioned. My brothers and I may be wild, but we honor our parents. We tease each other mercilessly, but we don’t betray or disrespect our own.”
My throat tightened. He found out about the article. No matter how I’d spun it, the Marchionnis would see airing family secrets as the ultimate betrayal. “Gabe, I’m—”
“Let me finish, please.”
I nodded again, but I couldn’t look him in the eye.
“My parents have been married for fifty-four years. We don’t do divorce. We have big families, we work hard, play hard, and love with everything we have. When I found out about Ella, I thought of you. Not because I wanted a place to dump my problems. Because I wanted to share my daughter with you. It killed me to stay away from you after Joe and Rebecca died. Knowing you were close, and I couldn’t see you was torture.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to tell him the truth. “Gabe, there’s something you need to know.”
He released my hand.
“I wrote an article about your family.”
He recoiled as if I’d struck him.
My brain worked faster than my mouth. I had to explain, to tell him what I’d written, to make him understand why I’d done it. “It isn’t what you think. It’s a personal piece.”
“I know.” He spoke in a shaky whisper.
“How do you know?” I leaned back in my
chair to put some distance between us.
“That’s what the phone calls were about. My father’s contact at the Picayune gave him a heads-up.” He ran his hand over the back of his neck and shook his head. “What have you done?”
“My job. I did my job. What do you mean, a heads-up? What guy?”
He set his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. “Think about it. How many news articles have you seen published about my family or our business?”
“None.” My mouth went dry. None, because Papa Joe paid people to kill the stories before they went public. The part of me that believed in freedom of speech and freedom of the press balked, but damn it, this was Gabe and my principles would wait. “What I wrote, it wasn’t about Marchionni Corporation or the mob or any…”
His brows rose.
I’d said too much, or maybe I’d said enough at the wrong time. Either way, I needed a rewind button. “I mean… Has he read the article? I think you’re both overreacting. It’s about a first generation of Italian immigrants walking the line between—”
“It’s going to kill him when he finds out it was you.” He rolled his lips in and closed his eyes. “Fuck, Maggie.”
“You’re not listening to me. It’s not that bad. It’s more of a human-interest piece than an exposé, and I wrote under a pen name.” A little voice inside me screamed to ask him about the mafia outright. I knew the answer but knowing and understanding the implications were two different things.
“I need a drink.” He signaled to the servers.
One came forward with a bottle of wine. Another waiter brought two plates, which I assumed were dessert.
“Just the wine for now. Scotch if you can get it,” Gabe said to the waiter.
The man hesitated and turned, but not before I spotted the chocolate truffles.
I not only wanted them, I needed them with every fiber of my being. Chocolate would give me courage… “Actually, I would like dessert now.”
The waiter looked between us.
“Later.” Gabe motioned for the man to go.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Leave them on the table. No sense in making him walk back and forth.”
Absinthe Minded: A Mafia Romantic Comedy (Bourbon Street Bad Boys' Club Book 1) Page 20
