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

by Abbie Zanders

  I took in the neat stacks of paper covering every available surface, now paper-clipped and color-coded and perfectly aligned in a precise geometric pattern. “Wow. You’ve been busy.”

  She beamed. “I think I’ve got just about everything sorted out, but there are some items I couldn’t associate with a specific case.”

  She got to her feet and handed me a file, much smaller than I would have expected. I’d go through them later.

  I picked up one of the case files and scanned the sheet she’d paper-clipped to the top. Each folder had one.

  “What’s this?”

  “A checklist of what each file contains for quick reference. For current cases, I also made a to-do list of things pending or still outstanding. I hope that’s okay.”

  Okay? It was fantastic.

  “You did all this just this afternoon?”

  She shrugged. “Yes.”

  “How?”

  She laughed and averted her gaze, as if embarrassed. “Like Miriam said, I’m anal when it comes to organizing, although I prefer the term fastidious.”

  I skimmed over the list with blatant approval. The woman knew her stuff. She’d accomplished more in one day than Stella had done in an entire year and with practically no direction from me. I could only imagine what it would be like to have someone so capable working with me full-time.

  And imagine I did. My mind was suddenly filled with images of having Allison here every day. Helping with cases. Offering insight. Sharing coffee and meals. Engaging in some in-office canoodling before I took her home and—

  I shut those thoughts down when I felt myself beginning to harden. I had no business thinking any of that. I was a lawyer, for God’s sake. One who understood that those thoughts I was having were way out of line.

  I was not going to be that guy. I should thank her for her time, cut her a check, wish her well, and be done with her.

  What I actually said was, “Can you come back tomorrow?”

  “I’d love to,” she said without hesitation, as if she’d been hoping I’d ask. “It’ll give me something to do. I’m not very good at being idle.”

  “Are you sure your sister won’t mind? You’re only in town a couple of more days, right?”

  “Are you kidding? She’ll probably send you a nice fruit basket or something for keeping me out of her hair while she crafts her best-selling novel.”

  Allison’s tone was light, but I detected an undercurrent of disappointment there too.

  “I like fruit. I should probably eat more of it.”

  She smiled, as I’d intended. “Good. If I’m coming back tomorrow, I can arrange the contents of each file so they’re consistent, maybe even help with some of those to-dos.”

  “That would be great.”

  Allison did return the next day, and it was even better. Just having her around, being able to step out of my office and see her throughout the day, seemed to take a huge weight off my shoulders.

  Which was probably why I decided to press my luck and ask her to come in for a few hours on Saturday too. I was going to be here, and I selfishly wanted her here with me.

  She agreed without hesitation, adding apologetically, “I’m sorry I can’t stay later tonight. Miriam and I are going out to dinner.”

  I hid my disappointment. I’d been toying with the idea of asking Allison out to dinner myself to show my appreciation. She’d spent the last two days working miracles.

  It was probably for the best. As much as I enjoyed her company, I needed to keep things professional. I also needed to remind myself that Miriam was the reason Allison had come to Cecilton, not me.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve already gone above and beyond. Where are you going?”

  “Someplace she’s been wanting to try. Mama C’s. It’s supposed to be really good. Do you know it?”

  Oh, I knew it all right.

  “Best Italian food there is.”

  “Any recommendations?”

  “I’m partial to the chicken piccata myself, but you can’t go wrong, no matter what you choose. It’s all good, trust me.”

  Chapter Eleven: Allison

  Even though I loved Italian food and was looking forward to a nice dinner out with Miriam, I had to force myself out of the building. I liked it there. It was in my comfort zone, surrounded by law books and case files and court documents.

  Paul’s office was much more laid-back than the DA’s office, for sure. I’d been able to do my thing at a comfortable pace without anyone screaming at me. Even better, Paul had recognized my efforts and actually appreciated them.

  I supposed I should thank Stella for that. If she hadn’t been such an awful assistant, I wouldn’t have looked so good in comparison.

  Once I stepped outside, my anticipation for a night out escalated quickly. I made it back to the apartment before Miriam and was feeling pretty good about myself. So good in fact that I decided to doll myself up for dinner—hair, makeup, the whole nine yards. I was just stepping out of the shower when Miriam burst through the door.

  “Oh my God, Ally. You are not going to believe this!”

  My fight-or-flight instincts kicked in immediately. I quickly wrapped a bath towel around myself and grabbed the hot curling iron, shoving Miriam behind me. “What happened? Are you okay? Did Caleb find you?”

  Miriam pushed at my back, and then she stepped out from behind me and looked at me like I was crazy. “What? No! Nothing like that. Put that down before you poke my eye out.”

  “What the hell, Miriam? You burst into the bathroom, screeching like that. What did you expect?”

  “Sorry.” For the record, she didn’t look at all sorry. She was practically bouncing on her toes. “It’s just ... you are not going to believe this.”

  “Yeah, you said that already,” I groused. I set my makeshift weapon down and grabbed a second towel to use on my hair. “What am I not going to believe?”

  “I met Nick Penn!”

  I peered at her through a mess of wet, tangled curls. The name meant nothing to me. “So?”

  “So? So? Nick Penn is only a USA Today, New York Times, and Wall Street Journal best-selling romance novelist!”

  I continued towel-drying my hair and tried to summon some sisterly enthusiasm. “Cool. How’d that happen?”

  “You know that guy who’s always in the bookstore, working on his laptop?”

  I pictured the handsome guy who sat in one of the alcoves, the one Paul had said was his brother. “Yes.”

  “That’s Nick Penn! I can’t believe I’ve been sitting so close to Nick freaking Penn all this time, and I never knew it! And he’s really nice. Mr. C told me I should talk to him about editors and stuff because he was an author too. But never in a million years did I think he was Nick Penn!”

  My irritation faded. It was nice, seeing a glimpse of the old Miriam, the one who laughed and smiled and thought the world was a beautiful place.

  “Maybe he’ll give you some good pointers.”

  “That’s kind of why I’m here,” she said. “He told me about this group for new and aspiring authors. They’re meeting tonight at the bookstore and he’s speaking. I know we’re supposed to go to dinner, but maybe we could go tomorrow instead?”

  I buried my disappointment. It was just dinner, right? This was important to her. I had to be supportive. “Sure.”

  She grinned and gave me a quick hug. “Thanks, Ally. You’re the best.”

  MIRIAM WAS STILL SLEEPING when I left her apartment Saturday morning. Despite staying up late, waiting for her to return, my body was programmed to get up early.

  I was glad to have somewhere to go. I knew that might sound strange to some, but like I’d said before, I preferred being busy and feeling useful.

  Also, I genuinely liked being around Paul. Bonus: he seemed to like my company too.

  In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have planned to spend an entire week with Miriam. I loved my sister, but we had difficulty with occupying the same sp
ace for any length of time.

  Much of that was my fault. Even though we were both grown women now, I was seven years older and still felt the need to look out for her. It didn’t help that our personalities were as different as night and day. She found my OCD tendencies stifling and oppressive; I found her free-spiritedness chaotic and undisciplined.

  Regardless, I’d be out of her hair soon enough. I’d decided to cut my stay short and leave a day earlier than planned. There was no reason to linger. I’d accomplished everything I’d set out to do, and she was clearly doing fine without my constant meddling. I’d told Paul that I’d help out today though, and I would.

  He was already at the office when I arrived. His door was open, but he was on a call, so I just poked my head in to let him know I was there, waved, and went to pick up where I’d left off the night before.

  When I walked into the conference room, I felt that odd chiver again. Instantly on alert, I looked under the table, in the cupboards, and behind every door.

  I found nothing. I was alone. The files were still in neatly stacked piles ... except for one, which was slightly askew and had a piece of paper sticking out of it.

  I recognized it instantly. It was the file I’d created on Miriam’s case. The paper sticking out was a contact summary sheet. It had my information, Miriam’s, and that of the judge who had issued the restraining and protection from abuse orders as well as Caleb’s last known address.

  I tucked the paper back inside, aligning the edges with the other contents, placating my need for neatness while contemplating the cause. I knew I hadn’t left a page sticking out like that; it would have bothered me until I fixed it.

  Perhaps Paul had been looking at it. I had no idea how long he’d stayed the night before, and he’d come in before me this morning.

  While I waited for Paul to finish so we could hit some of those to-dos, I made myself useful by carrying the closed case files back into the storage room and putting them back into cabinets. As I put each one into its proper place, I added an entry into a spreadsheet with case IDs, cross-referenced by names, dates, and type—divorce, estate, custody, et cetera—so each one could be found quickly and with minimal effort.

  I had to pass Stella’s former workspace to get from the conference room to the storage area and wondered again how she’d scored such a great position. I could admit, I was a little envious. It was a nice office, much nicer than the modular cubicle I had in Boston, with dark wood and windows that overlooked the park.

  Plus, Paul was great to work with. I liked my job, but I think I’d like it a lot more if I could come into the office everyday knowing he’d be there.

  What I didn’t like was the fact that Stella’s overpowering perfume continued to linger. I didn’t remember it being quite as bad the day before, but perhaps I’d just been too excited about hitting those files for it to fully register. I opened the window to air the place out and began to breathe easier almost immediately.

  Paul came by before too long. He wasn’t dressed in a suit like he usually was, probably because it was the weekend. I had to say, he looked every bit as handsome in jeans and a button-down as he did in Brooks Brothers. Maybe even more so. He had his sleeves rolled up, showcasing muscular forearms covered in just the perfect amount of dark hair.

  I showed him what I’d been doing and explained about the spreadsheet. He told me I was amazing—his words—and while I responded with a polite thank-you, I was squealing like a tween with a backstage pass at a boy-band concert on the inside.

  We went back to the conference room, and on my suggestion, we prioritized his current open cases in order of importance.

  We were just about to open the first one when he said, “So, what did you think of Mama C’s?”

  Chapter Twelve: Paulie

  “We never actually got there,” Allison said, disappointment lacing her voice.

  “Why not?”

  She explained about an author group meeting or something. Still, it seemed like a pretty shitty thing for her sister to bail on her at the last minute like that.

  “She said we could go tonight, but ...”

  “But ...” I prompted.

  “But I’ve decided to leave a day earlier than planned.”

  I had known she was going back to Boston soon, yet my mind and body railed violently against the idea.

  “Why?”

  She offered a small, sad smile. “It’s time.”

  “You’re leaving tonight?”

  She nodded. “Probably around dinnertime. I prefer to drive at night when there’s less traffic.”

  I did a quick calculation. “That’s what, about a five-hour drive from here to Boston?”

  “Four hours and fifty-four minutes, barring any delays.”

  “That’s not too bad.”

  “No,” she agreed, “not bad at all.”

  We didn’t talk any more about her leaving, but it remained on my mind. As each hour passed—far too quickly for my liking—my admiration for her grew.

  We were down to the last case file, and I knew I was running out of time. “Would you mind getting started on this? I have something I have to do.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

  “I won’t be gone more than an hour. Don’t leave before I get back, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I excused myself and had my phone to my ear as I left the building. “Ma, I need a favor ...”

  I RETURNED TO THE OFFICE with several bags in hand, ready to put my plan into motion.

  “Perfect timing. I just finished.” Allison looked at the bags. “What do you have there?”

  “A surprise. Give me a hand, will you?”

  I extracted a linen tablecloth from one of the bags, and Allison, though bemused, helped me spread it over the now-clear conference table. I added a candle and two complete place settings. Then, I started pulling out the takeout containers and lining them up. Allison’s eyes got bigger with each one.

  “What is this?”

  “If you can’t go to Mama C’s, then Mama C’s will come to you.”

  “Wow. Paul, I don’t even know what to say.”

  “A simple grazie will suffice.” I pulled out one of the chairs in my best gentlemanly waiter impression. “Your seat, Ms. Kearney.”

  She grinned widely and sat down. I took a seat on the other side of the table, brought up a playlist of famous Italian crooners, and put my phone on speaker.

  “Everything smells so good.”

  “It is all good,” I assured her as I poured us each a small glass of wine. I held mine up and said in toast, “Thank you, Allison, for all of your help. Salud!”

  “Salud!” She lightly clinked her glass against mine and took a sip. “And you are very welcome. I’m glad I could be useful. You really shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble though.”

  “I couldn’t let you leave town without trying Mama C’s.”

  “Are you a spokesperson for the restaurant or something?”

  “No, but I am biased. Full disclosure: my family owns it.”

  “Oh. Mama C’s. The C is for Cerasino, isn’t it?”

  I nodded.

  I encouraged her to sample a little bit of everything. I didn’t tell her that my mother had made my personal favorites. Allison loved it all, just as I had known she would.

  “You were right. Everything was fabulous. I understand now why Mama C’s is so popular. Did you work there when you were younger?”

  “We all did.” I laughed. “It was a requirement. We’re still expected to help every Sunday when we get together for dinner.”

  “Do you have a big family?”

  “Big enough. Three brothers and two sisters. Countless aunts, uncles, and cousins. And my grandparents.”

  “And you get together every week?”

  “Every week,” I confirmed. “We all live in the area, so it’s not an issue.”

  “That’s awesome.”

  It really was. I sometimes to
ok my family for granted. Not everyone was as fortunate, as the wistful look on Allison’s face reminded me.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why did you choose to become a paralegal? Why not go to law school? You’ve obviously got the smarts for it.”

  She took several long moments before she answered. “That was the dream, but I had Miriam to take care of,” she said finally. “I had to work. I couldn’t afford college, let alone law school. So, I did the next best thing. I worked during the day and took online courses at night until I earned an associate’s degree in paralegal studies.”

  “What about now?” I asked. “Do you still want to be a lawyer?”

  “I don’t know. I thought I did. But then I think about going back to college with all those young kids fresh out of high school. About the immense debt I’d accrue over four years of undergrad and three of law school, probably longer since I’d have to continue working and I wouldn’t be able to attend full-time. I’d be pushing forty by the time I finally finished, and chances are, no one would want to hire me.”

  “I’d hire you,” I said.

  She smiled. “You are a good man, Paul Cerasino. I wish there were more like you. Thank you so much. For everything.”

  It felt like she was saying good-bye because she was. I didn’t want her to leave, but what could I do?

  “You’re very welcome.”

  She began cleaning up, and I could delay the inevitable no longer. I wrote out a check and handed it to her. Her eyes widened when she saw the amount.

  “This is way too much.”

  “I consider it a bargain. I meant what I said. If you change your mind, you call me, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, but in my heart, I knew she wouldn’t.

  Chapter Thirteen: Allison

  I left the Wilkins building, feeling conflicted. Sad that my time here was done and pleased that Paul had gone out of his way to do something so nice for me. Honestly, I thought it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me.

  I’d only known him a short time, but I was going to miss him.