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Authors: Katie O'Sullivan

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Contemporary

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BOOK: Crazy About You
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She picked up the bowl of dog food and added some water. “I can’t thank you enough for taking him in this week, Mrs. Costa. Until they catch those kids who set the fire in Mom’s living room, I don’t want him home alone.” She pushed open the door and set the bowl on the back step. Hershey barked once before burying his muzzle in the wet kibble.

“It’s no bother at all, dear. He’s such a good dog. Makes me think I should get one of my own to keep me company, but then I remember I’m too old to housetrain a puppy.” The older woman crossed the kitchen to refill her wine glass. “Are you sure you won’t have a glass with me, dear? I know you like the pinot grigio.”

“No thanks. I’m headed downtown for a date in an hour.” A pretend date she needed to stay sober for, with serious consequences if things went wrong. A date that just became even more pretend for her, now scheduled with Todd instead of Chase. She wouldn’t be able to say any of the things she wanted to get off her chest, or tell Chase the way she felt about him or the way he made her feel. The ache in her chest intensified when she thought about Chase not coming to the bar at all tonight, not caring how things turned out as long as he could leave for New York in the morning. With Todd, not with her. “On second thought, why not?”

The woman smiled and reached into the cabinet for a second wineglass.

Chapter Thirty-Four

The wide pine floorboards showed their age, every nick and stain visible like proud battle scars from a bygone era. The long wooden bar ran the entire length of the wall from front window to back door, with various mirrors and shelves lined with bottles and glasses filling the space behind. Four bartenders—two men and two women—filled orders at a rapid pace while tossing bottles between them and chatting up the regular customers.

Chase sat on a barstool, taking in the dark, beer-soaked atmosphere of the place while listening to live happy hour music performed by a four piece punk jazz quartet. The eclectic juxtaposition of it all left him smiling in spite of himself. Similar to Lenzi, the Ritz Carlton was closer to his comfort zone than The Squealing Pig, yet he found himself entertained by interesting music and ordering a second draft of local beer. He wondered if Emma enjoyed this kind of place, and wished she were here sitting next to him.

Emma and Todd weren’t scheduled to arrive until eight, at the end of happy hour when the band was packing up. He knew from a flyer taped to the mirror across from his seat that more live music would start at nine. They had an hour in between sets to put on their own show for any interested parties.

Lenzi was already twenty minutes late. They’d agreed by phone to meet here a little before seven, to establish the business nature of their meeting and give the FBI agents time to settle in. Finally he spied him coming through the front door, his tail not too far behind.

He stood to greet him. “Mr. Lenzi. So good of you to make time for me. I’ve been thinking about what we discussed earlier today and I have a few more questions.”

Lenzi shook his hand and gestured for them to sit. “Barstools, huh? I took you for a table man.”

Chase lowered his voice. “Better view from here, so no matter where Emma ends up, it’s believable that you see her with Todd.”

“Trust me,
paisan
, I see everything.” He raised his hand to catch the attention of one of the bartenders, a folded fifty-dollar bill between his fingers, while he perused the bottles lining the back wall. One of the women put down a glass in the midst of pulling a fresh pint of Guinness and rushed forward. She graced Lenzi with a dazzling smile while plucking the cash from his hand. “What can I get for you gentlemen?”

“Glenlivet, double, neat, unless you have some Macallan hiding back there.” When she shook her head, Lenzi sighed. “The same for my friend.” She scurried off to get their drinks.

Chase tried to protest. “I’m drinking beer tonight.”

“Yeah, but you should be drinking scotch. It’s the little things that make life worth living.” He looked up as the server returned with two glasses of amber liquid and a handful of bills. Taking the generously poured drinks from her hand, Lenzi winked at the server. “Ah, sweetheart, what service. Keep the change.” Her eyes shot wide before she stuffed the bills into her pocket and headed back to the abandoned pint of Guinness.

“That was like a thirty-dollar tip,” Chase marveled. He pushed his half-empty beer glass aside and reached for the scotch. “Why?”

“Guarantees she’ll be paying attention, don’t you think?”

The guy had an ulterior motive for everything. Which brought up the question he needed to ask. “Why Emma? Why involve her with your schemes in the first place?”

Lenzi shrugged. “Not my choice. She applied for the job at Eco Dawn, and the mayor’s office recruited her directly. Her innocent and trusting nature worked out well for me, and you gotta admit, she’s a knockout. We had fun hanging out, doing stuff, and she made for great arm candy. I don’t want to hurt her.”

Anger and jealousy flared through Chase. He didn’t want to picture Emma and this mobster
doing stuff.
“She’s a lot more than naïve arm candy, you Neanderthal. She’s intelligent, with a quick wit and a great sense of humor despite her bad jokes, and she truly wants to make a difference in the world. She’s warm and loving, and cares about people, which is a helluva lot more than I can say for you.”

Scotch swirled silently as he dangled the glass in front of him, elbows both propped on the bar. “So tell me, Doc. Does Emma know you’re in love with her after only a week? You know that’s crazy, right?”

Chase opened his mouth to deny it, but then slowly closed it again. If it was that obvious, he shouldn’t keep lying to himself about his feelings. Except… “I think I already blew my chances with her,” he mumbled before taking a big swallow of his drink. The scotch seared a path down his throat, burning like liquid fire. He welcomed the heat, and the way it dulled the sharp edges of his pain.

“I said it before. If she didn’t care about you, she wouldn’t be mad.” He downed the last of his scotch and pulled another large bill from his pocket. The same bartender returned with two more glasses of Glenlivet before Chase could even formulate a reply. Seeing that he hadn’t quite finished his drink, she waited while Chase tossed back the last of it and handed her the empty glass. “Thanks, sweetheart,” Lenzi called as she walked away, pocketing the bill.

Chase wrapped his fingers around the fresh, cool glass. “Shouldn’t we be going over the details of the plan for tonight, rather than pining over lost chances?”

“It’s only lost if you give up. You don’t strike me a quitter, Doc. And Emma is definitely a gal worth fighting for.” His last words sounded loud as the live music came to an abrupt stop. Sprinkled applause punctuated the sudden quiet. Looking over his shoulder toward the door, he elbowed Chase to get his attention. “Looks like our show is going to have more of an audience than we bargained for.”

“What do you mean?” Chase straightened up to see around Lenzi. Two men in starched white shirts and dark pinstriped pants entered, making their way through the crowd at the far end of the bar. “You know Carnival starts tomorrow, right? It’s a mobster theme, so you’re going to see guys dressed like that all over the place.”

“Not like them. I know those guys.” Lenzi turned slowly back to face forward, catching Chase’s eye in the mirror across the way. “They’re from Boston. Something is up.”

The skin on the back of Chase’s neck prickled with unease. “Should we change our plan?”

Only the slightest shake of Lenzi’s head indicated he’d heard. “It’s too late. Emma will be here any minute. Besides, I’m pretty sure they’re not packing heat.” He finished most of his drink in one gulp, using the mirror to survey the rest of the room behind him. “McKay and his buddy Dean haven’t noticed the newcomers yet, too busy trying to flag down a waitress. When does their head honcho arrive?”

“Around the same time as Emma.” Chase’s gut twisted, thinking of the added complications the men from Boston brought to this evening’s equation. “You’re sure those guys don’t have guns on them?”

Lenzi turned to look Chase in the eye. “They didn’t need a gun to kill Vito. But I’d stay out of the men’s room if I were you. You don’t want to be alone. Now let’s talk some business.” He launched into a loud and detailed explanation of the environmental benefits Eco Dawn’s project offered for the city of New York, just as one of the FBI agents bellied up to the bar a few yards away. Chase nodded and pretended to listen to the spiel, but divided his attention between the agent ordering two burger plates with fries, and the Boston hit men at the far end of the bar.

Once the agent returned to his table, Chase interrupted, keeping his voice low. “I never got a chance to ask you. What will you do once this is over?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Ever heard of Curacao?”

“An island in the Caribbean, owned by the Netherlands. I’ve visited there on a few of my research journeys over the years.”

“Then you know how beautiful it can be, a regular tropical paradise. I invested my retirement fund in an out-of-the-way B&B on the south side of the island. I’m thinking a complete change of profession should accompany my change in climate to an extradition-free zone.” Chase nodded in appreciation at the man’s foresight, which Lenzi acknowledged with a wry grin. “I knew this might happen sooner or later, but I’m glad to start young enough to enjoy my new life. You should consider some life changes, too.”

“Me? I’m not a criminal.” Chase scowled. “Why do I need a change?”

“You’re not happy.” Lenzi finished the last of his scotch and pointed to Chase’s half-empty glass. “You gonna finish that?” When he shook his head, Lenzi grabbed it and downed that as well. He nodded toward the reflection in the mirror. “Show time.”

Chase looked up as Emma and Todd entered the bar, making their way to a tiny table in the dead center of the room. She wore another of those long, swishing skirts he found so tantalizing, paired with a black tank top that shimmered slightly in the low light of the bar. Tearing his eyes from her swaying curves, he glanced around the rest of the bar and frowned. “I don’t see Agent Roth here yet.”

“We can give him another minute, but I don’t want to give those Boston yokels any time to get cute with Emma. The sooner we put this show on the road, the sooner she’s out of the picture for good.” He looked at Chase, his face set with serious lines. “Promise you will take good care of her. And for fuck’s sake, tell her how you feel about her before she gets away. Saying
I love you
shouldn’t be the scariest thing in the world.”

It felt more than a little strange and uncomfortable to receive advice on his love life from a mobster, and totally not what he expected. Chase merely nodded and kept his mouth clamped shut. He watched Emma’s reflection as she and Todd made small talk with a waitress, undoubtedly another of her high school friends, finally placing their order. When the waitress walked away from the table, Todd took Emma’s hand, brushing his lips over her knuckles. Chase restrained his growl the best he could, but Lenzi chuckled at his side.

“Yeah, you got it bad. And I thought I was supposed to play the jealous
stunad
in this drama.”

“He’s not supposed to kiss her,” Chase hissed. “And if you say ‘lighten up, Francis’ to me I swear I’ll have to hit you, regardless of the plan.”

Lenzi chuckled again. “Believe it or not, I’m not the biggest Bill Murray fan. Although I totally appreciated his performance in
The Monuments Men
. Very understated.” He exhaled a long breath, eyes darting to movement near the front of the bar. “And finally, the man of the hour.”

In the mirror, Chase watched Agent Roth thread his way through the crowded bar, stopping at the table where his two agents were dining on burgers and french fries. The punk jazz quartet finally finished clearing their gear from the small corner stage, and different roadies wheeled in new equipment for the next set. Everything seemed to be in place. He nudged Lenzi’s arm. “Are you ready?”

“I was thinking.” Lenzi glanced down the length of the bar to where the Boston thugs stood. “With our expanded audience, I don’t think a screaming match will cut it. I mean, I have a vicious rep to uphold.”

“What do you mean, reputation? You’re out of here anyway.” Chase didn’t understand where he was going with this line of thought.

“Regardless. They know I beat my cousin Vito—my own flesh and blood—for disrespecting me in public. They won’t believe I’d let the kid off with anything less.”

Chase frowned, shaking his head. “Oh no. I’m not about to sit back and let you lay one finger on my assistant. I’m responsible for that kid.”

“That’s what I was hoping.”

Lenzi stood suddenly, his barstool smacking backward onto the wood floor, the loud clatter silencing all conversation around them. Slowly he turned on his heel, the picture of barely controlled fury. His loud accusation carried across the entire room as he pointed at Emma, looking her in the eye. His voice smoldered with anger. “What kind of fucking horse shit is this?”

Chapter Thirty-Five

She’d seen them sitting at the bar the minute she walked in the door. Tony’s dark handsome looks were such a constant in her life she automatically looked for him when she went out, but it was actually Chase her eyes found first. She didn’t expect to see him again, but there he was sitting next to Tony. Like a moth to a flame, her body longed to get closer, but she told herself that was only the pinot grigio talking.

A few days ago, she would’ve said they were the two most important guys in her life. Right now she wasn’t as sure.

“Everything okay?”

She nodded absently and Todd guided her forward, toward an empty table in the middle. “Sorry, I’m a little distracted tonight.” She stumbled before grabbing the empty chair and sitting. At least her performance in this melodrama wouldn’t call for any actual running or fighting. The wine she’d shared with Mrs. Costa went straight to her head since she hadn’t had anything but iced coffee all day long.

A familiar face appeared next to the table. It took Emma a minute to place her even as the woman smiled and greeted her. “Hey there, Emma! Good to see a friendly face!”

BOOK: Crazy About You
6.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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