Robin Kaye Bundle

by Robin Kaye

  Rich looked into his beer. He wasn’t sure if this was his friend, the happily married man, or if it was his boss, the dean of Columbia’s psych department, speaking. Still, since Rich was working his way toward a full professorship and tenure, he didn’t want to do anything to screw up his future. He could get away with leaving one Ivy League University on less-than-good terms, but not two. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been seeing someone here for some time. She’s the reason I stopped seeing Darcy in the first place. Now that we’re both in the city, I was thinking of taking the relationship to the next level.” It made sense. Gina was great. She was a lot of fun, easy on the eyes, good in bed. What more can a guy want?

  “I’m glad to hear it. You can bring her to the benefit dinner Emily has been nagging me to drag you to. She hasn’t seen you since you moved back.”

  “Sure, we’d love to go. I’ve yet to meet a woman who doesn’t love to dress up and do the town.”

  “Great. The benefit is in two weeks. I’ll get the tickets and let you know all the details later.”

  Just then, Jeff Parker joined them.

  Craig stood up and Rich followed suit. The three shook hands and went to the club room for lunch and psych department talk. Still, it was better than the conversation Jeff’s arrival put an end to. Now, if only Rich knew which Craig Stewart he had that conversation with: his friend and mentor, or his boss.

  Rich knew something was wrong when he entered the apartment Gina shared with her sister and brother-in-law. The way Gina’s brother-in-law, Sam, a big cop with a bad attitude, stared at Rich made him want to run in the opposite direction. What was it with people not liking him on sight?

  Rich smiled, doing his best not to fidget. His experience with cops made him uncomfortable to say the least, and Sam didn’t seem thrilled to have his sister-in-law mixed up with an ex-juvenile delinquent. Although his record was expunged, the fact that it was expunged didn’t look good on the background check Rich was sure that Sam ran on him. “Beautiful day, huh?”

  Sam just stared.

  “The leaves are changing, I’ll bet the Park is gonna be crazy today with everyone taking in the fall colors.”

  Rich found himself taking a step back when Sam shifted his weight. “Is Gina ready to go?”

  Sam crossed his arms and Rich wondered where the man found shirts to fit over his huge biceps. He looked like the incredible hulk without the whole green skin thing happening.

  Tina, a slightly younger version of her sister, Gina, entered the room, took one look at the situation, and stood between him and Sam. Rich fought the urge to cross himself.

  She poked Sam’s chest. “Sam, stop this.” She turned to Rich. “Sam and I are going out for a little while.”

  Sam held Tina’s coat for her. “We’ll be close by and could stop back any moment. Understand?”

  Rich nodded. “Okay, but we’re not staying—”

  “Yes, we are.” Gina teetered in on her four-inch heels and all but pushed Sam and Tina out the door. “Give me an hour before you send the SWAT team in, okay? Tina, maybe you should put a leash on him or something.” She shut the door behind them and locked it. “Sit down, Rich. We need to talk.”

  Nothing good ever came after the words, “we need to talk.” Rich examined his actions over the last week and wondered if it was something he’d done that caused the I’m-so-not-happy-to-see-you look on Gina’s face, and the way she kept her back up as if she was trying to steel herself against God only knew what.

  Rich sat on the couch and watched Gina pace the room while he tried to figure out the problem. Before he’d moved down a few months ago, Gina would visit him in New Hampshire once or twice a month. She never wanted to go out because she had an aversion to any place that wasn’t New York, so they stayed at his place, usually in bed, which worked for him. Come to think of it, since he’d moved back to New York, he and Gina didn’t do much together that wasn’t horizontal either. Maybe that was the problem.

  She continued pacing, and he had half a mind to grab her and haul her onto his lap. Whatever she had to say couldn’t be as bad as all that. After all, they’d never really had any problems. He closed his eyes and cursed silently. They must have had some problems since she was obviously working up the courage to do something. Rich had a strong feeling it wasn’t going to be something he’d enjoy. He’d lived with his two sisters long enough to know that women had all sorts of problems with the men in their lives that the poor slobs were never privy to. Maybe if Gina had said something, he could have avoided whatever this was. Gina turned and crossed her arms under her breasts, which always had the same effect on Rich.

  “Richie.”

  He pulled his gaze away from her abundant cleavage and brought it to her face.

  Gina rolled her eyes. “I’m not cut out for this.”

  “This?”

  Gina nodded. “Yeah, this…” She motioned from herself to him and back again. “I didn’t sign up for a relationship. It was different when you lived in Maine—”

  “New Hampshire.”

  “Whatever. We saw each other once or twice a month for a day or two, and it was fine.” She blew her inky bangs off her forehead. “This full-time girlfriend thing. It’s just not working for me. It’s too much pressure. You’re everywhere. And well, since you live here now, it’s really killing my social life.”

  Rich stood. “Social life? You have a social life?”

  “Because of you, no. I don’t.”

  “Good.”

  “Good? You think that’s good?” Gina said something in Spanish that even after four years of taking it as a foreign language, Rich couldn’t make out.

  He figured it had something to do with God and possibly death. Maybe it was better he didn’t know the exact translation. “Look, Gina. Why don’t we just talk about this? What’s the problem?”

  “You.”

  “What about me?”

  “Pretty much everything. It’s nothing personal, Richie. You’re a nice guy. I liked it when you were just someone I slept with whenever we got together. You’re great in bed, and well, that’s always been fun. You know?”

  Rich nodded. Yeah, he knew.

  “Now you’re talking about relationships, and well, I like you, but let’s face it, you’re just not relationship material.”

  “I’m not?”

  Gina shook her head. “You’re like a little boy. You expect every woman you know to clean up after you, cook for you, and do your laundry. I’m surprised you’ve learned to cut your own meat. Face it. You’re a mama’s boy. You don’t need a girlfriend. You need to move back in with your parents so your mother can take care of you. I’m not interested in being a maid with benefits. I want more, and you’re not it.”

  Rich stood. “Hold on, Gina. Give me a chance. I can change.”

  She laughed. “Come on, Richie. You’re hopeless. You’ve been treated like a prince since birth. Your mother thinks you’re the Second Coming. I’ll bet she still does your laundry.”

  “I can change. I’m a grown man. I’m intelligent. I have three post-secondary degrees. I’m sure I could figure out how to do laundry.”

  “Sure you can. If that’s what you want to do, go for it. But don’t do it for me. I’m sorry, Richie.”

  When Rich left the apartment, he saw Sam leaning against the wall in the hallway with his arm around his wife. Tina shrugged as if to say that’s the way things go sometimes, gave him a sad smile and a wave. Rich nodded and turned toward the elevator. He just wanted to go home and do an imitation of Brian Wilson holed up in bed for a week or two, eat bags of Sara Lee biscotti, and watch cartoons and hockey on TV. He couldn’t believe he’d been dumped. He’d never been dumped before. Well, except for that time when he was seventeen and his girlfriend slept with his best friend, Nick Romeo, and then snitched to the cops, which led to his and Nick’s arrest for grand theft auto. But the only reason she did that was because she found out he was about to dump her first. Women.

&nbs
p; What was he going to do now? He was supposed to show up at some charity thing two weeks from today with a woman on his arm to prove to his dean he’s respectable, stable, and in a committed relationship. Fuck, he had to get Gina back because there was no way he could find another girlfriend and establish a committed relationship in the next two weeks. He was good, but not that good. Besides, how hard could it be to turn into relationship material?

  He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, pulled up his collar, and headed into the cold fall wind toward the subway and home. That’s when he remembered that Becca was at his place. Great. Just what he needed. Another woman who thought he was worthless. Shit. He couldn’t even go home so he went to the next best place, his home away from home—DiNicola’s.

  Becca moved her cat, still in his carrier, from the living room into the spare room. While he slept, finally, she cleaned her new apartment and made a strategy for getting rid of the unwanted man in her life. She had a feeling it would be difficult. But then, over the years, she’d learned that nothing worthwhile was easy.

  She jumped at the sound of the intercom buzzing. Shit, she wasn’t sure what she should do. For all she knew it was Richie’s girlfriend, Gina, at the door. Richie said she wouldn’t be happy to find out that Becca was staying there. On the other hand, it might be a fast way to get rid of Rich Ronaldi. She smiled as she pressed the button for the intercom. “Yes?”

  “It’s Rose Albertini, Richie’s aunt.”

  Becca leaned her forehead against the cool plaster and buzzed Aunt Rose in. She looked in the mirror and pushed the hair off her forehead wishing she’d had a minute to clean herself up a little. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. Becca had met Aunt Rose twice before—once at Annabelle and Mike’s engagement party, and then, of course, at their wedding. Annabelle always said Rose was scary, but the little old lady who walked in carrying a lasagna didn’t look the least bit scary. “Oh, it’s’a you. I thought I recognized the voice. Not too many got your accent.”

  “Accent?”

  “Yeah, you know, you sound like you talk with your teeth clenched. That’s’a no good for your jaw. It’ll give you pain as you age. Mark my words.”

  Rose walked past Becca into the kitchen, popped the lasagna into the oven, and turned it on. “You take’a this out in forty-five minutes when it’sa nice and bubbly. Leave the foil off for the last few minutes to brown the top a little if’a you like. I put’a the gravy and the cheese in the Frigidaire. You heat the gravy and make sure you save the leftovers. I made enough for you and Richie. He’ll be hungry after tonight. You take care of him, eh?”

  “I hardly think that I’m—”

  “Ah, you don’t like my Richie, do you? My Richie—he’s’a good’a boy, you’ll see. Spoiled, but good.” She rubbed her hands together as if she were wiping away any argument and looked Becca over from bottom to top. “You too skinny. Mangia, mangia. My Richie, he don’t like skinny girls.”

  “Mrs. Albertini—”

  Rose waved her hand. “No, you call me Aunt Rose. You’re practically family.” She moved toward Becca, reached for her face, and kissed both cheeks. “You’ll like my lasagna. Later, when you want, I teach you to cook. Put some meat on those skinny bones.” She looked away and shook her head. “Aye, yi yi, you and Richie, you got a lot to work out. But don’t worry, you’re good for him, and when he grows up, he’ll be good for you too.”

  “I’m sorry Mrs… I mean, Aunt Rose. Rich and I aren’t… we don’t even like each other. Honestly, you’ve got it all wrong.”

  “Like? Who said anyting about like? You think me and my Vito liked each other?” She laughed. “You don’t need to like each other. Well, not at first.” She waved her hand. “It’sa the fire you like. The rest, you learn to live with, and then to love. You listen to your Aunt Rose.” She tapped her temple. “I know what I know.”

  The only thing that Becca knew as she followed the old lady out of the apartment was that Aunt Rose needed some serious therapy. Still, the look she gave Becca when she tapped her temple gave Becca the willies. Becca could see what Annabelle meant.

  The old lady turned and raised her hand. “No need to thank me. Just take care of my Richie. You’re a good’a girl. Skinny, but that won’t last.”

  “It won’t?”

  “No.” She kissed Becca again. “A little meat on your bones and you’ll be a beauty. You Catholic?”

  Becca shook her head. “Presbyterian.”

  “Ah well, I guess you can convert. Eh?”

  “Convert what?”

  Aunt Rose just patted her cheek. “You’re going to be fine. You wanna watch your cat though. Somethings a’no right with him.”

  Becca grinned. “No kidding. Thanks for the lasagna, Aunt Rose.”

  “Prego, ciao.”

  Becca watched Aunt Rose through the window. Tripod’s yowl had her rolling her eyes. Aunt Rose was right about one thing. There was something definitely wrong with Becca’s cat. She wasn’t sure if it was that he lost one of his hind legs or it was his personality problem. Probably both. After checking to make sure the dog door that Rosalie’s dog, Dave, used was locked and dead-bolting the door to the garden, she let Tripod explore his new home while Becca changed the sheets on the bed. She’d be damned if she was going to spend the night on the couch, or God forbid, on that torture rack of a futon in the den. No, if possession was nine-tenths of the law, Becca was going to possess the memory foam mattress. That was for damn sure. Rich could just take his pick of either the couch or the futon; she’d even be nice and leave him a pillow and a blanket.

  Chapter 2

  “AW SHIT. WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU? YOU GET DUMPED again?”

  Rich looked up from searching for answers at the bottom of his Scotch glass to find a fuzzy Vinny DiNicola staring at him. Vinny was a bear of a man with dark hair and a unibrow that reminded Richie of a prickly black caterpillar, only bigger. He wore a white cook’s coat over black and white checkered pants, both splattered with the special of the day. The only thing about Vinny that had changed since Rich was a kid in trouble was his hairline. It was receding, badly.

  Rich tossed back the rest of his drink and slid the glass toward Vinny. “This is the second time in my whole life I’ve been dumped. It’s not like it happens every day.”

  “And every time you do get dumped, you end up at my bar. At least this time you’re not underage.” Vinny filled Rich’s glass and slid it down the bar to him. He poured himself four fingers of Jack Daniels, raised his glass in silent toast, and drank most of it before slamming it down on the bar, punctuating the act with a satisfied “Ahhh…”

  Rich just gulped down more Scotch and thought about calling it quits. The drinking, not his life or anything. He was depressed, sure, but more than being depressed about losing Gina, he was depressed about what she’d said. Rich waited until he had Vinny’s attention. “Do you think I’m relationship material?”

  “Not for me, you ain’t.”

  Rich tried to focus on Vinny. Yes, he was definitely getting drunk. He could tell because he actually had to concentrate to get the glass to his mouth. When you have to aim for your own mouth, chances are, you’re well on your way to oblivion. “Shit, Vin. You know what I mean. Gina said I wasn’t relationship material.”

  “Yeah, well, she’s got a point.”

  Rich was looking at Vinny, but if that was Vinny talking, he wasn’t moving his lips, and he was throwing his voice. Rich turned his head in the direction of the voice and saw his brother-in-law Nick sitting beside him.

  Nick grabbed Rich by the back of his neck and gave it a shake before giving him a shoulder bump. “Mona called, said you needed some male bonding time, whatever the fuck that means. She said I had to get my ass over here. This had better be good. I was home, curled up with my wife and my dog, watching the Islanders trounce the Cunucks.” He shot Rich a look that was somewhere between a smirk and a grimace and reached across the bar, grabbed the remote control, turne
d on the Islanders game, and muted the volume.

  Vinny poured Nick a drink. “Gina dumped Richie and said he wasn’t relationship material.”

  Nick nodded. “Smart girl.”

  Rich went to smack Nick but forgot he had his elbows on the bar and was resting his head on his hands. He remembered just before his face hit the bar.

  Nick grabbed Rich’s left arm, and Mike, his other brother-in-law, grabbed the right.

  “Hey, Mike. When did you get here?”

  “Just now. Nick called me. Said you were in deep shit and needed some medical advice.” Mike nodded to Vinny with the same expression Nick wore.

  Nick gave Rich a tug. “Yeah, like how to get your head out of your ass.”

  Rich slid off the barstool. “My ass isn’t in my head.”

  Mike laughed. “Sure, whatever you say.”

  His brother-in-laws helped turn him around. “Where are we going?”

  Nick pushed Rich forward. “Vinny’s office. Drunks are bad for business.”

  “It’s a fuckin’ bar. Bars encourage drinking.”

  “Drinking yes, drunks no.” Mike opened the door for them.

  The next thing Rich knew he was sitting in a hard chair with a cup of coffee in his hand. He aimed for his mouth again and forgot the content of his cup wasn’t Scotch. It was hotter than hell. Shit!

  Vinny looked over his boys and laughed. It wasn’t long ago that Nick and Mike were both in the same place Rich was. Of course, they did it at different times and over different women, but still, they both came to DiNicola’s to get plowed.

  Vinny took another sip of his Jack and tried to remember that saying about the course of true love never running smooth or some such crap. But come to think of it, Nick and Mike had both been a whole lot more upset about losing the women they loved than about why they’d been dumped. Maybe Rich didn’t really love Gina after all.