by Zoey Kane
Greedy little thing.
“Rob,” her mom said, looking to her oldest. “Anything from Reese or Russell?”
“Yeah, they can’t make it. They’re close to solving a case they’ve been working on.”
Identical twenty-three-year-old slick twin hackers, Reese and Russell were the youngest federal agents to work the cyber-crime division in West Emily.
“What kind of boss doesn’t let their employees have a nice brunch with family? Doesn’t he or she know I’ve been slaving in front of the stove, while also serving customers, to cook a meal for those boys who I barely see and nearly spent fifteen hours giving birth to? The least their boss could do is send a note of apology.”
“I’m sure that’s something you should bring up during the next parent-teacher conference, Ma,” Rob joked, dodging his mother’s smack upside the head. “Richie is coming. Said he’s bringing a plus one.”
“Who? It better not be that ditz Stacey.” Mom narrowed her ivy-green eyes. “I told him to not bring that woman anywhere near here.”
Rob shrugged. “He didn’t say.”
Richie, two years behind Rob, was the classic rebellious wild child. He played the push-and-shove game with authority, even now as an adult, going left when the crowd went right (nothing too wrong about that), having many mornings of no recollection of what was done the previous night (typical), and bearing a weakness for women with big silicone-injected lips and daddy issues (no comment).
If anything, what kept him grounded and somewhat responsible was his increasingly popular seafood restaurant, Richie’s Crab Shack, located on the boardwalk.
Gia's inner evil-being hoped it was Stacey. The subject regarding her and Tony's relationship prospects would dissipate and focus on Richie's on-again, off- again girlfriend. Having the intelligence of an ear of corn, Stacey was the type of chick who no son should bring home to their self-righteous mother, because said chick had the tendency to think a stove’s Start, Bake, and Broil buttons were just there for decoration.
Sadly, and hilariously, that was based on true events.
2
Gia picked up a fork, hesitating on where to start. Tony poured grapefruit juice into her glass before doing the same to his.
“Thank you,” Her attention never wavered from the hot spread that took up every inch of space on the long table.
“You’re welcome,” he said and quirked a dark eyebrow. “Having trouble deciding on what to attack first?”
“Aren’t you?”
“Babe, I’ve already given this some thought and frankly, I’m appalled you haven’t.” He hooked his arm around her shapely waist and kissed the sensitive spot just below her ear. The public display reflected in her reddening cheeks. She’s so adorable.
“I’d start at the pancakes. I bet you that Jennie has already stuffed a couple in her back pocket.”
Mom set down the last white porcelain oval plate before taking her seat in between her husband and Rob. Thankfully, it was another stack of her delicious buttermilk pancakes that contained a hint of vanilla. Three diner employees, a cook included, were passed the reins to take over the restaurant. Richie still hadn't shown. Family or not, no one was going to wait.
Gia took Tony’s advice and slapped two flapjacks on her dish. Brown flecks of cinnamon promised her a sweet and spicy bite. She slathered on whipped butter while the cakes were still warm enough to melt it, and then reached for the plate that carried the towering fort of crispy bacon. Underneath the table, Petey was making his rounds, nudging his nose on ankles to gain a scrap or two.
Or three... multiplied by five.
She traded Jennie the bacon for a bowl of biscuits covered in gravy. Next, she added sliced halves of strawberries and oranges. So far, she’d been collecting sides. The main attraction to the savory show was the home-style hash omelets. Pillowy eggs, rolled like a sleeping bag, held cubed ham, diced onions, and shredded hash browns. Mom was very generous with the cheddar cheese layered on top.
Gia put an omelet on her plate, now full, and dolloped on a scoop of sour cream. At this point, it was first come, first served for her belly. If more room was available, next in line was her dad’s brown sugar and oats quick bread.
“Last we talked, you were having some issues with Mark,” Mom directed her attention to Jennie. Mark was someone she’d been dating for four months. “Has it been settled?”
“By settled do you mean completely avoiding him like a person that is ground zero of a biohazard? Then, yes, it’s settled.” She shoved a wad of pancake into her mouth.
Gia rolled her eyes. “You have a sucky way of dealing with a situation.”
“No, I don’t. I’m stuffing my face with pancakes and bacon. I’m dealing with it just fine.” She made a show of drowning her buttermilk stack in blueberry syrup.
“Jennie, all Mark did was bring up the subject of moving in together—”
“That’s commitment! And that freaks me out!” She waved her fork.
“You could have just said no,” Rob pointed out.
“And make myself look like the jerk?” Jennie snorted. “I don’t think so.”
Gia dropped it.
“Tony, dear.” Her mom paused to take a sip of coffee. “I see you’re in very good shape. You work out, I presume?”
Where was she going with this? Gia stopped chewing and looked at Tony.
He wiped his mouth with a napkin before nodding. “I do,” he said. “A few times a week.”
“Do you smoke?”
“Uh, no. I stay away from that stuff,” he replied. Jennie and Rob both slowed their eating, also curious to see where this conversation was headed.
“What about stress?” Mom wondered. “Is that a problem you encounter on a day to day basis?”
“No, it’s not. Life has been easier since moving to Greenville.” He grinned at Gia. Her body tingled, a now automatic reaction.
Mom beamed, utterly pleased by his answer. “Wonderful. I only ask because I’d like to know the likelihood of me becoming a grandma,” she said, cutting into her omelet. “It’s very important for a man to keep his body in check in order to maintain a healthy sperm count.”
“Mom!”
Jennie choked on a chunk of biscuit.
Tony jerked, his knee banging loudly against the table.
Dad spewed coffee in Rob’s face.
Petey ran to another table.
And just then Richie walked in with a woman wearing all black and leather. “Greetings, fam!”
He strode over, lucky to have missed the previous scene. He wore a red T-shirt with his restaurant's logo on it, khaki shorts, and flip-flops. A dark five o'clock shadow freckled his square jaw, brightening his white teeth and hazel eyes.
“Hey ‘lil’ sis! Bro.” He clapped Rob on the back, who gave up drying his coffee-stained shirt. Jennie had recovered and stared wide-eyed in horror at Leather Lady. Needless to say, Mom too shared her expression.
“‘Sup, Ma.” Richie kissed her cheek.
“Hello, um, who’s this?” She gestured to his companion. Leather Lady looked bored and unimpressed with her surroundings, focused on examining her long pointed nails. To Gia, they resembled talons. Her waist was shrink-wrapped in a corset, fashioned with lace and buckles. Her jacket matched her tight leather pants and combat boots.
“Yikes.” Jennie grimaced at her ensemble.
“Everyone, this is Veronica.” Richie slung a tanned arm along the scary woman’s shoulders. “My fiancée.”
“FIANCEE?!” Mom screeched.
Customers in the diner exchanged glances with one another, pointing to the Rizzo clan.
Oh, great. Gia sunk lower in the booth.
Mom slowly moved to her feet, her lips in a thin line, and cheeks growing redder and redder by the second.
Jennie pulled out her phone, hitting the camera app. “Oooh, I am so not missing any of this.” She hit record.
“Richie... Davey... Rizzo,” Mom turned grave.
&
nbsp; “What’s wrong now?” Richie raised his hands. “I’m ready to settle down. I thought you’d be happy for me.”
“WELL, I’M NOT! YOU HONESTLY THINK I’D BE HAPPY TO SEE MY SON ENGAGED TO A WOMAN WHOM HE NEVER EVEN INTRODUCED US TO?”
“I just did!” Richie argued. “I swear, there’s no pleasing you.”
Mom's eyes widened, and her nostrils flared. Jennie tapped the screen of her phone, zooming in.
“Quit filming,” Gia smacked her arm.
“The clarity is amazing,” she said.
“I FEEL VERY BETRAYED RIGHT NOW! AND WHAT IS THAT?!” Mom pointed to a silver bulb at the corner of Veronica’s lip.
"It's a lip ring." the girl shrugged. "I could pierce you on, if you want. All I need is a really sharp needle and an ice cube."
Mom glared at Dad. “DAVID! Do something.”
He abandoned a strip of bacon—with a sudden blur of furry ears, the bacon disappeared—and stood between Mom and Richie.
“Let’s all calm down and discuss this later—”
“YOU’RE JUST PUNISHING ME, IS THAT IT?” Mom interrupted, glowering at Richie. “BECAUSE I DIDN’T LIKE STACEY, AND FOR ALL THOSE TIMES I DROPPED YOU AS A BABY?”
“Ma, I would never— Wait, what? How many times did you drop me?”
“Apparently enough to make your brain rewire itself and force you to make irrational decisions.” She gestured to Veronica, who was slowly inching her way closer to the door.
Rob barked out a laugh. “I think dropping him did more than that. Remember when his left eye use to twitch whenever the microwave was turned on?”
At this point, Veronica was AWOL. Several diner patrons followed suit with Jennie, also capturing “Rizzos Gone Wild Part Twelve,” adding to the ongoing saga. Mom was refueling to rip into Richie again. Dad had settled back in front of his plate, a bit puzzled as to why he was a bacon short.
Gia was ready to take a breather. Reading her mind, Tony pushed aside their end of the table and grabbed her hand. “Fresh air?’ he asked.
“Yes, please.” Could he get any better?
Gia stopped at a family’s table with four kids who were giggling and letting Petey lick whipped cream off a syrupy slab of French toast. She scooped him up, faltering a little. “All right. You’re cut off.”
They made a hasty exit to Tony’s truck, where she grabbed her tote bag that had Petey’s collar and leash in it. Once he was firmly secured, they set out on foot to enjoy that fresh air, though not until the diner was no longer in view from a couple blocks away.
3
Gia inhaled the last of the sea air. It was replaced by an earthy fragrance when they walked farther along on the dirt path that led to a residential area, surrounded by thick woods and littered with small lakes and creeks.
“Rob’s cabin is nearby,” she stated quietly. Any louder and she’d drown out the gentle sound of water coursing between stones or the occasional whistling bird.
“It’s peaceful here,” Tony said, matching her volume.
Sunlight peeked in between openings in branches and leaves of tall trees that acted as a roof above. Beam spots twinkled against the dusty ground like stars.
Gia clasped his hand and directed them off the path and up a short grassy hill. Below was a small field surrounding a lake. Glittery light caressed the surface, while ducks drifted by. She bent to unhook Petey’s leash. She expected him to collapse onto the luscious, warm grass but instead he wandered to the shore of the lake and watched baby ducks float after their mama.
From her tote bag, Gia set out a travel bowl and bottle of water in case he became thirsty.
“We should come back to this spot one day with Jade and have a picnic,” she said, referring to Tony’s Great Dane.
“That’s a good idea.” He tugged her to him on the ground. Her back was to his chest as his toned arms encircled her torso. “And when we do, should we give your parents a heads up that we’ll be in town?”
She swiveled around to glare at him.
“I was just kidding,” he laughed and kissed her frown away. No way was he going to mention she was the spitting image of her mother when she did that.
“Har, har, har.” She settled back against him.
Petey, departing from his duck pals, made his way to her. He stopped every so often to nip at grasshoppers before finally slumping over her outstretched legs.
“So about this Friday...” Tony squeezed her forearms then ventured up to her shoulders. “Are you ready?”
“I am,” she said. Despite the perceived confidence in her voice, she was actually quite nervous. Tony continued massaging her shoulders. She focused on his magical hands instead of the end of the week.
“I’ve already had a talk with Greta to make sure she behaves,” he said.
For that, Gia was grateful and a bit relieved. Feisty and with the mouth of a sailor, Greta was a loose cannon. Not to mention, an old woman who said what was on her mind and had recently taken up dyeing her hair bright red to attract a new fella. Gia liked that Greta wanted to try something new, but a line had to be drawn when she showed up for work at a family-friendly bistro wearing a low-cut blouse and a push-up bra. It was like looking at two bowls of oatmeal. “Thanks,” Gia sighed.
“I don’t want anything or anyone to jeopardize your chances.”
“Me too.”
At nine a.m. on Friday morning, James McCarthy, the founder of food magazine Forks and Knives, was to meet with her at any place of her choosing. She picked In The Box bistro, her job and one of the many places featured in her blog, to discuss her future with the magazine. By all means, she was more excited than Petey was at Saturday’s sausage fest. But Rebecca, the magazine’s representative, had said McCarthy never traveled to meet a potential new writer for the magazine.
This made jittery nerves compete with excitement.
“Why not just call to set an appointment and have me come to him in West Emily?” she said aloud, twisting to face Tony.
“He probably wants to see you in your element,” he said.
“I guess... though I was told he’d never done that with anyone else.”
“You’re special, G. It’s not hard to pick up on that,” he said so matter-of-factly.
Gia was struck yet again with how easily he could ignite her insides. To show him how she felt, she slid her arms around his neck and gripped the ends of his dark hair. Their foreheads touching, she pressed her lips to his—caressing, teasing and then fusing into one sensual embrace—remaining so until everything around them fell away. Tony moved his hands lower to the small of her back. Her top lifted slightly, and his fingers brushed against her skin. With no clue as to how long they stayed wrapped up in the moment, they parted, chests heaving and breathless.
“I was hoping for more of a ‘You’re special too,’ but the kiss was better.” Tony chuckled.
Gia playfully pushed him to the grass.
“I—”
“HELP! SOMEONE, PLEASE!” A scream pierced the air.
Petey jumped to his feet. Tony sat up, looking to see where the scream originated.
Not a person in sight.
Until...
“HELP!” A man wearing a dark suit and gloves ran off the path, toward them. “Please!”
Gia and Tony intercepted the distraught man.
His face was covered in sweat. He pointed to the direction he came from. “M-my boss,” he said, his breathing erratic.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Gia reached to steady him.
“My boss... He’s dead.”
With Petey back on his leash, Gia and Tony followed the man. On the dirt trail, yards from the lake, they stopped at a sleek limousine.
A very familiar limousine.
Gia steered Petey away from the car. She wasn’t sure what they were walking into. She also had her cell phone ready. Skepticism was the mask she and Tony wore at the moment.
“I-I was...” The man wrung his gloved hands. “I was driving my bo
ss, John.”
“You’re a chauffeur?” That would explain the gloves, however cliché.
“Y-yes.” As he bobbed his head, gelled dark hair broke out of place beneath his black driver’s hat. “He left the car and his son. Oh no! Chris! He’s gone.”
“A child is missing?” Gia’s heart leaped.
“N-No. Chris is a man. He and his father were arguing and—”
“You said John is dead.” Tony frowned, looking around. The chauffeur visibly shook, pointing to the rear of the luxury vehicle that was near the edge of the woods. “O-Over there...”
Tony cautiously went around the limo. Gia put space between her and the driver. Her thumb hovered the keypad on her phone. Leaves and twigs crunched underneath Tony’s feet. Beside the right rear wheel lay a gray-haired man in a navy suit, face down. Tony’s eyes immediately went to the gory gash on the back of the man’s skull. He checked for a pulse... and found none.
“I’m calling the police now,” Gia said from a couple of feet behind him. She caught a glimpse of the dead man and the wound. There was no coming back from that.
Tony nodded and stood. “What’s your name?” he asked the chauffeur.
“Adam Liv-Livingston,” the driver stuttered. Adam had a splatter of light brown freckles on his cheeks and nose. He glanced at his dead boss and instantly turned pale. “Oh, oh no...” The whites of his eye sockets showed, and in seconds he fainted, collapsing with a dull thud to the ground.
<<<>>>
Whines of police and ambulance sirens disturbed the once-tranquil setting. Gia no longer could hear birds chirp, and after the sirens were turned off, ominous silence descended. She, Tony, and Adam were separated to be questioned. Her statement was brief—she and her boyfriend were nearby when the chauffeur ran to them, calling for help, and then they discovered the body, which Tony had touched to check for a pulse.
Gia relayed her contact info in case she was needed for further questioning. Petey sat on her toes and waited patiently. She crouched to scratch under his chin. She too waited while Tony finished talking with an officer. Since being split up, Gia watched police tromp across the grounds, whispering and looking grim.
