Just For Her: A Cerasino Family Novella (Cerasino Family Novellas Book 3)

by Abbie Zanders

  The comforting scents of fresh espresso and my nonna’s baked goods lingered in the air along with old wood and the tens of thousands of books housed among the shelves. My nonno was busy helping a customer, but he looked up when I stepped in and offered a wave.

  I spotted my brother Nick over in his usual corner. As always, he had his laptop open and a cup of coffee on the table beside him, focused on penning—typing—his next best seller. He didn’t look away from his screen for a good five minutes after I sat down. I envied his powers of concentration, especially since mine seemed to be sorely lacking.

  I waited patiently for him to notice me, taking advantage of the impromptu downtime by sinking back into the comfy chair, closing my eyes, and letting the ambiance siphon off some of the stress. Unsurprisingly, an image of Allison Kearney painted the backs of my lids.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I opened one eye to find Nick looking at me with concern. “What makes you think anything’s wrong?”

  “Because you only come here when you’re stressed out.”

  “That’s not true.”

  He raised an eyebrow. Okay, it was kind of true. I wasn’t the type of guy who catnapped in bookstores.

  He smirked. “What’s her name?”

  “I think that romance-author mentality is rotting your brain. Why does it have to be about a woman?”

  He laughed. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  He wasn’t wrong. The quietest and arguably the most levelheaded of my siblings, he was also an excellent sounding board, so I gave him the condensed version. I told him how I was buried with work. About Gina’s observations and Stella’s behavior. I finished up with Allison Kearney’s visit earlier that morning, downplaying the effect it’d had on me, trying to make it sound like an afterthought instead of the mild obsession it had become.

  Nick wasn’t fooled at all. He zeroed in on Allison with the military precision of the former Marine he was.

  “Tell me more about Allison Kearney.”

  I shrugged, acting as if I didn’t want to talk more about her, and then spent the next fifteen minutes doing just that.

  When I was finished, he sat back, his expression thoughtful. “So, what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” I rubbed at the dull throb that had taken up in my forehead, index finger on one side, thumb on the other. “Got any suggestions?”

  His wry grin was back. “I don’t know. Perhaps I could be persuaded if you share some of that.” He pointed at my hoagie.

  “Deal.”

  I opened the bag and gave him half, keeping the other half for myself. He took a bite and closed his eyes. “Manetti’s makes the best hoagies.”

  I heartily concurred.

  “So before I say anything, are you asking Nick Cerasino or Nick Penn for advice?”

  “Does it matter?” I asked. My quiet brother and the best-selling romance author were one and the same.

  “Not really,” he admitted.

  That was what I was afraid of. “Give it to me.”

  “Okay, first and foremost, you have to hire some help. Someone capable of taking some of the work off your hands, so you can concentrate on the important stuff.”

  I nodded. It was on my list of things to do. My very long list.

  “Second, you need to nip this thing with Stella in the bud before it goes too far.”

  I sighed and nodded again, dreading that conversation even though I suspected it was long overdue. “I know.”

  “And third, this thing with Allison Kearney ...”

  I leaned forward, because this was the part I was most interested in.

  “You need to let it go.”

  I blinked, feeling cheated. “Let it go?”

  “Let it go,” he repeated. “If you’re not willing to compromise your principles—and I’m not saying you should—then you’ve done what you can.”

  He was right, of course. Hearing him affirm my earlier decision didn’t make me feel any better, however. In fact, it rankled me even more.

  “Unless there’s a reason why you can’t let it go,” Nick added with a smirk ghosting his lips and a devious twinkle in his dark eyes.

  “Like what?”

  “Your conscience. The innate white-knight tendencies that drove you into family law services to begin with. Or”—his grin grew—“whatever it is that puts a gleam in your eye when you talk about her.”

  I scoffed. “That’s Nick Penn talking.”

  “True,” he agreed, “but in this case, it’s not fiction. That’s how I felt when I met Kat. And Vinnie gets that same gleam in his eye whenever he talks about Haven.”

  I silenced the knee-jerk denial before it could cross my lips. It would come across as too defensive, a he doth protest too much kind of thing that would only fuel the fire.

  Instead, I went with, “Spoken like a man in love.”

  “Guilty as charged, Counselor.”

  Which reminded me, I needed to get back to the office. I’d already wasted far too much time. “Good talk. I have to head back. Tell Kat I said hi.”

  “I will. You can tell me how it works out at Sunday dinner.”

  I said nothing, because I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to make it two weeks in a row.

  “And don’t even think about skipping again unless you want Ma showing up at your office and dragging you in by your ear.”

  I laughed and reflexively rubbed the shell of my ear, remembering our mother’s favorite method of getting our immediate and undivided attention. “Heard.”

  I was near the door when I felt it—a strange, tingling sensation at the back of my neck, as if I was in someone’s sights. I slowed and turned toward one of the alcoves, my heart skipping a beat when I saw a pair of familiar sea-green eyes looking my way.

  Chapter Five: Allison

  I had known Cecilton was a relatively small town, but I hadn’t thought it was that small. If I was the type of person who believed in kismet—which I was not—I might take Paul Cerasino’s appearance in the bookstore as some kind of sign.

  I didn’t. It was a random coincidence, a case of nothing more than being in the same place at the same time. It did, however, present an unexpected opportunity, and I wasn’t about to squander it.

  He hadn’t seen me when he first arrived. I’d been slunk down in one of the high-backed cushy chairs, catching up on my email and making a prioritized to-do list, while my sister had tapped away on her refurbished laptop.

  That didn’t mean I wasn’t paying attention to what was going on around us. I felt compelled to scan everyone who came through the doors. Miriam might believe Caleb had given up and moved on, but I wasn’t as trusting as she was when it came to her ex. Even with everything that had happened, I think part of her still loved him.

  Paul—Mr. Cerasino—waved to the owner, the sweet older man Miriam had introduced me to earlier, and then moved toward the back, where he joined the studious-looking guy who’d been there all day. He was wearing the same suit and annoyingly still looked just as devastatingly handsome as he had in the elevator.

  Does he still smell as good too? I wondered and then chastised myself for even considering it.

  Miriam stopped typing, stretched, and reached for the bottle of water beside her. “Scenic view, right?”

  Definitely. “Do you know them?”

  “The guy with the glasses is here every day, like me. I think he might be the owner’s grandson—you know, the author one I was telling you about?”

  I nodded.

  “The other guy, I don’t know. Why?”

  I lifted my shoulders in a casual shrug and reached for my cappuccino. “He’s the lawyer I saw this morning.”

  After I’d left Paul Cerasino’s office, I’d been honest with my sister, telling her what I’d done after the fact. It was a classic case of seek forgiveness instead of permission. Thankfully, she hadn’t been too upset, even going so far as to tell me she’d expected me to do something like that. I suppose
d I was rather predictable.

  “He’s pretty hot,” she said, her lips curving up into a smile as she continued to look over at the two men. “Maybe I should take your advice and make an appointment.”

  Something unpleasant knotted inside my chest. My sister was the free-spirited, gentle flower who unknowingly stoked men’s inner caveman tendencies. In her ex’s case, those tendencies had manifested in possessive, jealous, and abusive ways, but Caleb Johnson was an asshole. In decent men, those ways presented as gallant and chivalrous behavior.

  I sensed that Paul Cerasino was more of a white knight than he was a knuckle-dragging mouth-breather. My sister could use someone like him in her corner. So, why did the idea of her getting chummy with the hot lawyer bother me so much?

  “Yikes, Ally. I’m just kidding,” Miriam said, breaking into my thoughts.

  “What?”

  “You should see your face right now. Like someone just peed in your Cheerios. Relax, okay? I’m not interested in anything besides getting my life back.”

  That knot in my chest loosened, and I breathed easier again. “I can’t help it. I worry.”

  “I know you do.” Her lips turned downward. “But things are different now. I’ve got this. I’ll never be a victim again.”

  I wanted to believe her. I really did. But I also knew my sister. She’d lose focus and eventually let her guard down. Plus, Caleb was adept at manipulation. He knew her weak spots.

  Across the room, Paul laughed and stood, as if ready to leave.

  Now or never.

  “Then, prove it,” I said boldly, shamelessly taking advantage of her willingness to convince me and the fact that Paul Cerasino was only a tome’s throw away. “Talk to him.”

  Her eyes widened. “What? Right now?”

  I pressed on. “Talk to him. If you’re right and Caleb really has accepted your divorce, then you’ll be doing nothing more than making a new acquaintance. But if things do go south, you’ll have a backup plan and a powerful ally already in place.”

  I could tell she was considering it. It was time for my closing argument. “Please, Miriam. If you won’t do this for yourself, do it for me. I’d feel much better, knowing someone has your back when I return to Boston.”

  Yes, I was playing on her good, soft heart, but I was doing so with pure intentions, so I felt zero guilt.

  She worried her bottom lip, and then her expression turned to one of resolution. “All right, fine.”

  I stood, ready to follow him out if need be, but he paused before the door and turned. Those dark eyes zeroed in on me like smoldering lasers. And ... there were those pesky tingles again.

  “Mr. Cerasino,” I said, annoyed with the breathy quality my voice had somehow acquired.

  “Ms. Kearney. A pleasure to see you again.”

  I made quick introductions. “Miriam, this is Mr. Cerasino, the lawyer I was telling you about. Mr. Cerasino, my sister, Miriam.”

  They exchanged polite greetings.

  “Miriam would like to speak with you concerning the matter we touched upon this morning.”

  His eyes moved to Miriam, and like the tingles, that unpleasant swell in my chest resurfaced. Maybe it was because I was holding my breath.

  “Is that so?”

  “It is,” she confirmed. “May I call your office for an appointment tomorrow?”

  “Please do.”

  “It’s okay if I bring Ally with me, isn’t it?”

  His eyes slid back to me. His lips curled at the corners, and just like that, the tightness in my chest loosened. “Of course.”

  Chapter Six: Paulie

  Allison Kearney was looking at me with those pretty eyes, now filled with hope. I much preferred that to the disappointment I’d seen earlier. In fact, that burden I’d been carrying around on my shoulders seemed to have lifted in the last few minutes.

  She looked different than she had in my office, but I would recognize those eyes anywhere. As attractive as she was in conservative attire, she was even more so in her faded jeans and hoodie.

  My feet didn’t want to move, but I forced myself to walk away. A clean getaway was not in the cards. My nonno, no longer busy assisting customers, waved, beckoning me over toward the register with undisguised interest. I knew if I didn’t answer the summons, he’d cut me off before I made it to the door and start chastising me loudly in Italian.

  “Nonno,” I greeted.

  His eyes flicked to Allison and back to me, dancing with a gleam I knew all too well. Did I mention that my grandfather considered himself quite the matchmaker?

  “She a pretty girl, no?” he asked.

  I pretended I didn’t know who he was talking about and turned around. Miriam had sat back down, but Allison was still watching me—or more specifically, my ass. A surge of manly triumph rushed through me when her gaze moved upward, and the look on her face turned from one of undisguised interest to embarrassment. She quickly spun around and sank into one of the comfy chairs but not before I saw the glow of a blush blooming on her cheeks.

  “She is,” I agreed.

  “She like-a you.”

  Another frisson of pleasure zipped through me, but it was short-lived. I had to set my grandfather straight. “She’s only in town for a few days, and her interest is purely professional.”

  “You change-a her mind,” he said, nodding with certainty.

  I chuckled but said nothing. There was no use in trying to reason with him. The man believed true love was the solution to the world’s problems.

  He narrowed his eyes. “You no believe me.”

  “I believe that you believe.”

  “You bring-a her to Mama C’s. You mama will tell you same.”

  Yeah, I couldn’t let that happen. My mother also fancied herself a matchmaker, and when she and Nonno joined forces, resistance was futile. Allison Kearney wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “I’ve got to get back to work. Give Nonna Maria a kiss for me.”

  “I give her more than that, eh?” he said with a devilish grin. “But no from you.”

  I laughed. “You do that.”

  I left the bookstore, feeling remarkably lighter than I had when going in.

  I was going to see Allison Kearney again.

  BY THE END OF THE NEXT day, my excitement had waned somewhat. Neither Allison nor her sister had called for an appointment. Had they changed their minds? I knew Allison was only in town for a short while, and the clock was ticking down.

  By Wednesday morning, I was feeling downright cranky. Not just because I hadn’t heard from Allison or her sister, but also because nothing was going right. I’d nearly missed a court appearance because I’d overslept after working until three a.m. Again.

  I didn’t know how long I could keep up the pace. I wasn’t getting enough sleep. I couldn’t make heads or tails of Stella’s filing system. I wasn’t making enough of a dent in my to-do list. Allison hadn’t called. And Irene, the woman who kept my office running like a well-oiled machine for several hours each day, was home with a sick grandkid and probably would be for the rest of the week.

  To make matters worse, in Irene’s absence, Stella was acting like a teenager whose parents had gone away for the weekend. Her clothes were racier, her behavior flirtier.

  I really needed to do something about that.

  I finally made it to the office around midday, only to find Stella at the front desk, doing ... nothing. She put down her phone and stood the moment I walked in.

  “How’d it go?” she asked.

  “It went.” I glanced at Irene’s normally pristine work area and frowned.

  Stella had apparently claimed it for her own. Irene’s #1 Grandma mug had been pushed to the side and takeout food and drink containers littered the surface.

  It bothered me.

  “Shouldn’t you be working on the Di Miglio case?”

  “I thought it was more important to have someone out here. You know, to greet clients and answer the phones and stuff.”
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  It was a valid point. Sometimes, we had walk-ins, and I wanted clients and potential clients to be able to speak to a real, live person when they called during normal business hours. Still, she could have been doing something in between. Irene knitted scarves and donated them to homeless shelters.

  “Do you have anything for me?”

  “Like what?”

  I waved at the phone and called upon my quickly waning patience. “Messages. Requests. Updates.”

  “Oh, right.” She grabbed several slips of paper and held them out to me. One message was written on a lipstick-stained napkin.

  I took them and made for the peace and solitude of my office to sit down, drink my coffee, and sort through them. Hopefully, I would find one from Allison Kearney or her sister among them.

  When I sat down in my chair, however, I realized that Stella had followed me.

  She leaned against my desk, showing a bit more leg than was appropriate, and sipped from her glittery insulated tumbler. “So, what are we doing today?”

  “You are going to go through everything we have on the Di Miglio case and create a to-do list of action items. I am going to drink this double espresso and triage my inbox.”

  Her lips turned downward. “You want me to do that right now?”

  “Yes. Right now.”

  “Someone’s grumpy today.”

  I gave her my best serious-boss glare, swiftly conveying that I was not in a mood to argue. She made a hmmph sound and strolled out of my office.

  I exhaled when she crossed over the threshold. Gina had been right. I was being played, and it was high time I did something about it. But not before I was fully caffeinated.

  Chapter Seven: Allison

  “Have you heard anything yet?” I asked Miriam as I slid the plate of scrambled eggs in front of her.

  It was nearly noon, but I figured it qualified as breakfast because she’d just woken up. I took every opportunity I could to ply her with proteins and healthy carbs. With her creative brain free and firing, mundane things like eating regularly sometimes took a backseat. A brief inventory of her small kitchen had revealed six open boxes of crackers, a crusty-tipped can of imitation cheese, and an assortment of frozen dinners, so I’d felt fully justified in running to the grocery store for eggs, bread, butter, and juice.