Just For Her
Cerasino Family Novellas, Book Three
Abbie Zanders
Copyright © 2021 by Abbie Zanders
All rights reserved.
Visit my website at https://abbiezandersromance.com
Cover Designer: Cosmic Letterz
Editor: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Copyright Page
Acknowledgements
Chapter One: Allison
Chapter Two: Paulie
Chapter Three: Allison
Chapter Four: Paulie
Chapter Five: Allison
Chapter Six: Paulie
Chapter Seven: Allison
Chapter Eight: Paulie
Chapter Nine: Allison
Chapter Ten: Paulie
Chapter Eleven: Allison
Chapter Twelve: Paulie
Chapter Thirteen: Allison
Chapter Fourteen: Paulie
Chapter Fifteen: Allison
Chapter Sixteen: Paulie
Chapter Seventeen: Allison
Chapter Eighteen: Paulie
Epilogue: Allison
Epilogue: Paulie
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Acknowledgements
Many thanks to my good friend and fellow author Tonya Brooks, who is always there for me.
And a shout out to my awesome reader group, the Zanders Clan. I am so thankful for the support and laughter you provide every day.
... and THANK YOU to all of you for selecting this book. You didn’t have to, but you did.
Chapter One: Allison
I stepped into the quaint little shop and scanned the interior, breathing in the scents of coffee and pastries and old books. That Miriam had chosen a mom-and-pop bookstore as her preferred working space wasn’t surprising. My sister wasn’t truly happy unless surrounded by towers of paperbacks and wooden shelves lined with leather-bound classics, and Cerasino’s Bookstore must have seemed like Valhalla to her. I wondered vaguely when I’d last read for pure enjoyment and realized it had been quite a while.
A sense of profound relief washed over me when I spotted her in one of the cozy-looking nooks, and I took a moment to appreciate the sight. Miriam’s nose was in a book, an enigmatic smile ghosting her lips and a faint blush painting her cheeks. To see her caught up in a story, so relaxed and unafraid, was a balm to my heart. She had suffered for far too long.
As if sensing my stare, Miriam tensed and swung her gaze my way. When she saw me, that ghost of a smile became the real thing, brilliant and sincere. My feet carried me across the space as she put her book down and stood, her arms opening to accept the embrace she knew was imminent.
It felt so good to hug her again without fear of exacerbating a cracked rib or inadvertently hitting a sore spot. She was still too skinny in my opinion, but she looked a lot better than the last time I’d seen her.
“You’re here!”
“I’m here,” I agreed, feeling a twinge of guilt for taking so long to visit my sister in her new place.
My job as a paralegal for a demanding and ambitious district attorney kept me very busy. Plus, it had taken a while to re-earn a few days off. I’d blown through my initial allotment quickly, battling Miriam’s abusive ex through legal channels. Putting in tons of overtime to get ahead and picking up extra work allowed me to extend my visit to a full week.
“Sit down and let me get you something to drink. The coffee and sfogliatella here are to die for.”
I chuckled and removed my coat. I was a sucker for a good sfogliatella, and she knew it. “Sounds perfect.”
My eyes tracked her progress to the counter in the back, where a woman with light-brown hair was arranging an assortment of pastries under glass-domed displays. After a brief and friendly exchange that I couldn’t quite overhear, Miriam was on her way back to me.
“Haven will bring everything over in a few minutes,” Miriam told me, settling back into the big comfy-looking chair. “You picked a good time to show up. Mrs. C just made a fresh batch, and they usually sell out quickly.”
“Must be good then, huh?”
“The best! She and her husband own this place, and she does all the baking from scratch.”
“Nice.”
I shrugged off my jacket and sank down into the chair adjacent to hers. I appreciated the semiprivate, intimate space of the nook. The chairs were close enough to each other to hold a quiet conversation and far enough away from the others to not be overheard.
“You look good,” I told her sincerely.
“I feel good,” she replied, her eyes sparkling. “I’m even writing again.”
Writing had been my sister’s passion for as long as I could remember, second only to reading.
“That’s wonderful!”
She nodded excitedly. “I know, right? It’s like a dream come true.”
I bit my tongue to refrain from saying any of the thoughts that came immediately to mind, like, That’s great, but how are you going to pay your bills when the money runs out? The modest divorce settlement wasn’t going to last forever. But I hadn’t seen Miriam in months. I wasn’t about to rain on her dream parade with a cold dose of reality in the first fifteen minutes.
Miriam’s gaze swung to the short stack of books on the small coffee table in front of us. It was only then that I noticed the titles. Each was a resource on the craft of writing.
“I’ve got all these stories in my head, and I’ve started putting them into words. I even splurged on a refurbished laptop,” she told me, reaching into the large bag beside her and extracting a notebook-sized computer.
I blinked rapidly, feeling the moisture begin to well up in my eyes. I was so proud of her. My gentle-hearted sister was finding an inner strength she hadn’t known she had, and I was her biggest cheerleader.
Before I could say so, however, the woman from behind the counter arrived and set a tray down on the table.
“Here we are. Two specials with fresh sfogliatella.”
Miriam thanked the woman with a warm smile and then introduced us. “Haven, this is my sister, Allison. Allison, this is Haven, and I’m telling you right now, you’re going to become addicted to her coffee.”
Haven beamed.
“Nice to meet you,” I said.
“You too. If you need anything else, just give a wave.”
“Will do, thanks,” Miriam responded.
“She seems nice,” I said quietly as I lifted the cup to my lips and took a sip. “Wow, you’re right. This is good coffee.”
“Haven is nice,” Miriam agreed. “That’s one of the reasons I love coming here. Mr. C is a super-sweet old man, and he doesn’t mind that I spend every afternoon drinking coffee and taking up space. He says I remind him of his grandson, who’s apparently a writer too.” The smile on her face dimmed. “It’s almost too nice, you know? I keep waiting for something to happen ...”
“Nothing is going to happen,” I said firm
ly, silently praying that it was true. “You haven’t heard anything from Caleb, have you?”
Miriam bit her lip and shook her head slightly. “No. He doesn’t know where I am.”
I glanced at the laptop, wondering if she knew just how easy it was to find and stalk someone digitally. I did it all the time. Research and fact-gathering were huge parts of my job.
She hastened to ease my fears. “Relax. I only connect to the Wi-Fi for research, and I use an incognito, cookie-free browser.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn’t want to believe that Miriam’s no-good ex would try to track her down and cause trouble, but I saw enough ugliness on a daily basis to warrant erring on the side of caution. “Good. Let’s keep it that way. Now, tell me about the book you’re working on.”
Just like that, her eyes lit up again. “Oh, it’s a fantasy-romance trilogy with sexy dragon shifters!”
I laughed. I should have known. My sister had a penchant for anything dragon-related as well as an obsession for paranormal romance.
“Of course it is. Tell me more.”
Chapter Two: Paulie
The office phone continued to ring incessantly. It stopped for a heartbeat, maybe two, before starting again. My part-time receptionist, a grandmotherly widow, typically left early each afternoon to get her grandkids off the school bus—at which point, answering calls became the responsibility of my assistant, Stella. I growled in the back of my throat, put down the brief I had been reading, and stepped out of my private office to stalk down the hallway to where my assistant should have been.
Her computer was off, the lights had been dimmed, and the desk and surrounding area were piled high with stacks of files, binders, and reference materials. I scanned the area in disbelief. It appeared as if more had accumulated since the last time I was in here, which shouldn’t be the case. I was paying Stella to reduce my workload, not add to it.
What the hell did she do all day? And where the hell was she now?
I had some vague memory of Stella popping her head in and telling me something about having plans, but I’d been deep in case notes at the time and hadn’t really been paying attention.
With muttered curses, I reached over the desk and pressed a few buttons, forwarding the calls directly to voice mail. Stella could sort through them in the morning. I still had several things I had to do before I could call it a night.
The fact that business was so good was both a blessing and a curse. Yeah, it put money in my pocket, but it also meant that situations requiring legal family counsel were on the rise. More divorces, more custody battles, more domestic abuse cases, more estate disputes. In a perfect world, there’d be no need for my services. We didn’t live in a perfect world, however, and I was burning the candle at both ends these days, trying to meet demand.
I barely stepped back into my office when my personal cell sounded with the ringtone I’d assigned to family members—Frank Sinatra’s “The Best Is Yet to Come,” if you were wondering. The man was one step short of a saint in my parents’ household.
That call I answered without hesitation.
“What’s up, Gina? I’m still at work.”
“I know you are,” my youngest sister replied, “which is why I’m standing outside your locked office with a bag of food. Let me in, will you?”
I chuckled to myself. It didn’t matter how old we were, my mother felt compelled to ensure her single offspring were well fed. She said once we were married and started giving her grandchildren, she’d back off. That claim hadn’t been tested yet, but it wouldn’t be long before my brothers Nick and Vinnie, both of whom had gotten engaged recently, came through.
I hustled back out to the front and unlocked the double doors, where Gina was standing with a carryout bag from our family’s restaurant, Mama C’s, her features pinched in annoyance.
“When did you start locking the doors anyway?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.
I didn’t bother reminding her that my family services law practice often meant I had to deal with people who were abusive, hurt, or angry. She knew. I knew she knew. Just as I knew she’d probably call our brother Vinnie the moment she left and tell him to beef up the patrols around my building. We were protective of each other that way.
Instead, I shrugged and said, “Stella must have done it on her way out.”
My clever little sister wasn’t fooled for a moment, but she pretended she was for my benefit and covered her concern with a smirk and her trademark sass. “I guess she doesn’t want anyone poaching on her territory when she’s not here.”
Gina was convinced that Stella had a thing for me. I disagreed. Stella was just ... Stella. What Gina saw as romantic interest, I saw as a form of gratitude. I’d given Stella a break by offering her a job after her cheating ex drained their bank account and ran away with his mistress.
But as Gina was a woman and therefore had a much greater understanding of those things, I wasn’t stupid enough to dismiss her opinion entirely. I opted for mild sarcasm and a change of topic instead.
“Yeah, that’s probably it. Do you have to head out right away?” I asked, reaching for the bag.
“I’m on my way to the on-campus library, but I can stay for a bit if you’ve got time.”
“I’ve always got time for you.”
“That’s why you’re my favorite brother.”
I laughed, well aware that Gina often said the same thing to Nick, Vinnie, and Dom.
I gestured for her to head to the conference room while discreetly relocking the door behind me. She unpacked the takeout containers and set them out on the table while I grabbed some bottled waters and napkins from the small kitchenette.
I nodded toward the backpack she’d set on one of the chairs. Gina was working on her master’s in graphic design and illustrative arts, no doubt the motivation for her evening trek to the library.
“How’s it going?”
“Slowly,” she said on an exhale. “I’ve got a massive website-branding project due by midnight tomorrow, and I can’t get five consecutive minutes to complete a thought. I’m looking at an all-nighter just to make the deadline.”
I could sympathize. Gina was still living at home, and nothing about our parents’ place was conducive to uninterrupted quiet time. Not only did they run the most successful Italian restaurant in Cecilton, but it was also the central meeting place for our large, boisterous, extended family of aunts, uncles, cousins, and grands.
However, while I understood Gina’s desire for the solitude of the library, I didn’t like the thought of her being out alone late at night.
I offered what I thought was a reasonable and preferable alternative. “Study here.” I waved my hand around the room.
“I’ve got a lot to do. Like I said, I’m looking at an all-nighter.”
“Me too,” I told her. “In fact, I’ll probably be here most of the night myself.”
“In that case, I accept.”
I stopped chewing, my big-brother instincts on high alert. “That was too easy. Something you’re not telling me, Gina?”
She shrugged. “There’s a new guy at the library, and he creeps me out.”
“Has he done anything? Said anything?”
She shook her head.
“You mention it to Vinnie?”
“No.”
“Maybe you should.”
“If I have a reason to, I will. It’s probably nothing.”
“Trust your instincts, Gina. Always.”
“I know. I will.” She twirled some pasta on her fork and changed the subject. “FYI, Ma’s not happy that you missed last Sunday’s dinner.”
In our family, not showing up to family dinner was practically a mortal sin, but I had a good excuse. I’d driven six hours to get a signed affidavit for a custody hearing coming up.
“Couldn’t be helped. What did I miss?”
“Not much, really. You know Ma and Sunday dinner. It’s important to her to have everyone together.”
> I frowned. I understood that, but I had cases to prepare for, cases that were important to my clients. It was hard to justify taking time for myself when I had so much to do.
My face must have displayed some of my thoughts because Gina followed up with, “You will be there this Sunday, won’t you?”
“Of course.” I’d make it work. Somehow. I still had a few days before then.
“You should hire someone to help.”
“I did. I hired Stella.”
Gina rolled her eyes. “I mean, someone who actually does something. Why do you even keep her around anyway?”
I didn’t admit that I’d asked myself the same question only a few minutes earlier. I knew why. “She’s had it rough. I’m just giving her a break. A chance to put some cash in her pocket while pursuing her paralegal certification.”
Gina snorted and shook her head. “You’re such a sucker. She’s playing you. The only certification she’s interested in is an M.R.S. degree from PCU.”
“PCU?”
“Paulie Cerasino University.” She grinned and then grew somber again. “Seriously though, the longer you keep stringing her along, the harder it’s going to be.”
“I’m not stringing her along!”
“Maybe you don’t think so, but some people mistake kindness for something else. Trust me on this, okay? Before things get ugly.”
“I’ll take it under advisement,” I said to appease her.
“You do that. In the meantime, it’s getting late. We’d both better get to it.”
We cleaned up, and I brewed a fresh pot of coffee. It wasn’t nearly as good as the stuff I got from the café downstairs, but it was hot and caffeinated and would have to suffice. Then, I left her in the conference room and went back to my office to get more of my own work done. It was going to be a long night for both of us.
Chapter Three: Allison
The Wilkins building wasn’t hard to find. I walked into the lobby and checked the directory, confirming I was in the right place. As long as I was in town for a few days, I would do what I could to lay the groundwork for a backup plan when Miriam’s restraining order against Caleb expired. As much as I wanted to believe that Caleb had realized the error of his ways and would leave Miriam alone, my instincts told me otherwise. If I could vet a potential local legal ally in case things went south, I would.
Just For Her: A Cerasino Family Novella (Cerasino Family Novellas Book 3) Page 1
