Logan's Redemption (10 page)

Candi’s voice had hardened. Logan knew she was already making excuses in her own mind for staying with the jerk, whoever he was. Probably the mean-looking guy in the picture on her desk. In his line of work he’d seen other women in this predicament. Circumstances in their lives rendered them powerless to stop the cycle of abuse. Sometimes only death stopped it.

As a child he couldn’t fight his old man. Then he became a man himself. He’d run away that awful night, afraid of his own strength and of what he’d done to his father.

Candi needed him now. He wanted any information she had that might help the investigation, but he wanted to help her more. “It will never get better. You need to get out now before something worse happens. I’ll do whatever I can for you.”

She chewed her bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”   

He leaned back in his chair and sipped coffee, watching her. He’d lost her for now, but he wouldn’t give up. The smells of bacon, eggs and melted cheese made his stomach rumble, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten. But he had more important things to worry about.  

Candi looked down at the diamond bracelet she wore, nervously turning it on her wrist.

“Nice bracelet,” he said. The thing must have cost a fortune. Where would Candi get money for a chunk of jewelry like that?

“Thanks. A little early Christmas present to myself.”

“You treat yourself well.”

“I worked hard for this,” she said in a defensive tone.

Logan let out a frustrated breath. “Why did you want to meet, if you don’t want my help with your abusive relationship?” 

She winced but leaned closer. “I haven’t known you long, but I can’t share this with the few friends I have at work.”

“Share what?”  He kept his face and voice free of emotion, wanting her confidence.

“I know about those things at work, the stealing, and the vandalism. I’m scared.”

Logan sat very still, giving Candi time.

She chewed her bottom lip, not looking at him. “Dan Callahan gave me a job when no one else would.”

“Tell me,” he said slowly. “Tell me what you know and we can figure out what to do.”

She studied the diamond bracelet, rubbing the stones, lost in thought. Lights from the overhead lamps struck the facets of the gems, as if winking at him. This assignment was becoming more complicated by the minute.

“I can’t.” She stood. “I don’t know anything. Sorry to take your time.” Grabbing her purse from the back of her chair, she turned to leave.

Logan stood and reached out to touch her arm. “Don’t go. Talk to me.”  

She shook her head and strode quickly from the coffee shop.

Logan resisted the impulse to thump on the table in frustration. He signaled to the waitress for their checks instead. He’d have to go slow with Candi and gain her trust.

* * * *

Averting his face, he pressed against the side of the building next door when Candi hurried by.
The slut. Cheating on him with Pretty Boy. The guy had the Callahan bitch.  Now he wanted his woman. Greedy bastard. He’d show him. When he got done with the women, no one would want either of them
.

* * * *

“Such beautiful girls, and neither one married. What am I to do with you?”  Nonna gave Doriana’s cheek a playful pinch before doing the same to Anita.

“Oh, Nonna, marriage isn’t everything,” Doriana said, laughing. “Don’t worry about me and Anita. We’ll be okay.”

Doriana looked down at their tiny grandmother, standing next to her at the large wooden table in Nonna’s pristine white kitchen. Love swelled in Doriana’s heart for Nonna and for her own mother, Lena, busy at the other end of the table making the special bread that would go into the Italian wedding soup. Doriana smiled at Anita as they rolled ground beef and veal into the miniature meatballs that were an essential part of the flavorful soup.   

An operatic aria sung by Luciano Pavarotti, Nonna’s favorite, floated through the house. Aromatic chicken broth, flavored with pungent rosemary and sweet basil wafted over the women as they worked. Doriana took a deep breath. Opera and love. Nothing ever changed at Nonna’s little house in South Philadelphia. Surrounded by the women who meant so much to her helped take away some of the pain of seeing Logan with Candi at the Italian Market earlier.

But the picture of him brushing back Candi’s hair intruded on Doriana’s thoughts. She didn’t want to care that Logan dated Candi. But he was the father of her son. He didn’t know about Josh. Guilt swept her again as she questioned her decision to keep Josh and Logan apart.    

“Nonna, you tell us to get married,” Anita said. “But you raised five kids alone after Grandpop died. You didn’t need a man.”   

Nonna sat next to Lena and lifted a head of escarole out of a bowl. She shifted her gaze from Anita to Doriana. Concern shone from her coal-black eyes. “I loved all my children and they were good kids, but I was lonely. You need a man to share your life.”   

“I’ve given up on both my kids ever marrying,” Lena said with a dramatic sigh. “Franco’s not the marrying kind, not with the type women he dates.” She rolled her eyes.

“And Doriana, darling,” she said, “you are too much of a workaholic. Just like your father. You’ll never find a man if you don’t relax and have some fun.”

“Exactly what I tell her, Aunt Lena,” Anita said.

“Come on, please,” Doriana said. “Let it go. I’m perfectly content with my life. I have Josh. I have my work. I don’t need a man.” But she did. She needed Logan. Where the hell had that come from?

Anita let out a soft laugh. “Don’t believe Doriana. You should see the hunk she has working for her.
Madone
. He’s gorgeous.”

“Who’s gorgeous?” Josh walked into the room, flashing a smile for all the women. Logan’s smile. Doriana’s pulse tripped.

“You’re gorgeous,” Lena said. “Come here and give your grandmother a kiss.”

Laughing, Josh gave Lena and Nonna pecks on the cheek. “So you were talking about me?”

“You sound more like your Uncle Franco every day,” Anita said. “And I don’t mean that as a compliment.” She glanced at Lena. “Sorry, Aunt Lena.” She looked back at Josh. “We were talking about your mom’s new assistant.”

Josh opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of orange juice. He opened it and raised the carton, ready to drink.

“Josh Callahan, you use a glass,” Doriana said. “You know better.”

With a shrug, he opened a cabinet and drew out a glass. He filled the glass with juice and took a long swallow. “Who’s this new assistant, Mom?” he asked, putting the glass down on the tile counter.

Doriana’s face heated. “It’s not a big deal. Logan is taking Lisa’s place until her leave is over.”

Josh leaned against the counter and reached over for a cookie from Nonna’s ever-filled pastry jar. He bit into a cookie. “The guy’s hot?”  Crumbs fell from his mouth.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Doriana said.

“Is he the reason you won’t let me come to your office?”  Mischief lit Josh’s hazel eyes.

Anita stopped in the act of rolling a tiny meatball. She looked from Doriana to Josh and back again. “You won’t let your son come to your office? There
is
something between you and Logan. I knew it.”

“Anita, stop that right now,” Doriana said. “If my hands weren’t covered in raw meat, I’d throttle you.”

Anita laughed. “Perhaps you protest too much.”

Lena stopped mixing eggs and flour and looked at Doriana. “Tell us about this man. He sounds interesting.”

Lena wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a white streak of flour across her smooth skin. Doriana smiled. Her mom still retained the dark beauty that made Dan Callahan propose marriage within one week of meeting her. Sadness vined around Doriana’s heart. Would she ever find the happiness her parents found with each other?

She shrugged the thought aside. “There’s nothing to tell about Logan.” She ignored the little pang of guilt at the lie. “Dad hired him. I don’t know much about him, but Dad seems high on him.” She couldn’t keep the slight edge of resentment out of her voice.

Lena arched a brow. “So your father is interfering with your work? He always has to be in control.”

“But he doesn’t control my department.”

Laughing, Lena went back to mixing flour and eggs. “So much alike, you two.”

“Anita, you tell us about this young man,” Nonna said. “He’s handsome?”

“Yeah, Anita, tell us,” Josh said. “Mom will just try to change the subject.” Josh walked over to Doriana and gave her a quick hug. “Don’t be ashamed if you like this guy, Mom. You need a life.”

“Listen to your son,” Anita said, waving a meat-crusted hand.

Doriana slanted Anita a quelling look. Anita laughed.

“Well, Anita, tell us.” Lena stopped mixing and rested with her elbows on the table.

“I only met him for a few minutes, but he seemed nice,” Anita said. “And he’s scorching hot.” She smiled as her gaze circled the table. “He’s tall, great body. Looks like he works out. Wavy light brown hair. And absolutely awesome hazel eyes. A definite hunk.”

Anita frowned and looked at Josh. “Josh, you have the same hazel eyes as Logan, down to the gold flecks.”

Doriana’s breath stopped. She focused on rolling a perfect tiny meatball. She knew Anita was staring at her.

“Maybe we should invite him for Thanksgiving dinner,” Nonna said.

Doriana dropped the meatball. It fell off the table and rolled under the counter. Josh retrieved it and threw it into the sink.

“No,” Doriana said. “We will not invite him for Thanksgiving. He’s my employee. Thanksgiving is for family.”

“Doriana,” Lena said, staring at her wide-eyed. “Do you hear yourself? Our table is open to anyone.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately. Can we just drop the subject?”

Lena and Anita exchanged looks.

Several times during the day, Doriana caught Anita staring at Josh and then back at her, a question in her eyes. Shivers raced along Doriana’s spine. Josh looked too much like Logan. The women in her family were smart. She had to keep them away from Logan.

When dusk settled, they all sat down to a meal of fresh wedding soup and crusty Italian bread. Doriana looked around the dining room table at her family and knew they would stand by her no matter what she did in life.

Hadn’t they all rallied around her when she was seventeen and pregnant? They’d never passed judgment on her and they never would. But if they guessed Logan was Josh’s father, the women would try to push her and Logan together. Her dad would want to pummel Logan, or worse.

And Josh. What about him? Would he resent her for keeping him from his father?

A horn blast outside startled her from her thoughts. Josh jumped up from the table.

“I’ve got to go,” he said.

Doriana put down her spoon and narrowed her eyes at her son. “Go where? You haven’t finished eating and you didn’t tell me you had plans tonight.”

He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal, Mom. I’m just going to the movies with some friends.”

“What friends? Who are they? And why don’t they come to the door?”

“Oh, Mom, no one comes to the door anymore. See you all later.” He blew kisses to the women before striding out of the room.

“Josh, come back here.” Doriana jumped up, hitting the table and sending soup sloshing over the side of her bowl. The lace tablecloth caught on the buckle of her belt, holding her.

“Let him go, Doriana,” Lena said. “He’s a good boy.”

“Mom, he knows the rules and he’s testing me.” Doriana freed herself from the lace and raced out of the room. She made it to the front door in time to see Josh get into an older model car. Engine rumbling, the car shot away. Doriana closed the door and leaned against it. Just when things seemed so good between them. Anger and fear clutched her like the lace that had held her hostage. Something was going on with Josh. Something secretive. A cold chill of dread made her shiver.     

~~~~

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Are you going to tell me?” Anita set the can of hairspray on the counter and met Doriana’s gaze in the mirror.

Putting on an indifferent face, Doriana fluffed her hair with her fingers and studied herself. “I like the layers. Very edgy. I can see why you’re one of the top hair stylists in Philadelphia.”

“Stop that.” Anita sat in the stool next to Doriana and swiveled Doriana’s chair to face her. The expression in her brown eyes dared Doriana to look away. “You’ve had sixteen years to hide the truth. I will not let you out of that chair until you come clean.”

Doriana forced her gaze from Anita’s. She shivered despite the late afternoon sunshine slanting through the large picture windows of Anita’s hair salon. They had the shop to themselves on a Sunday afternoon. She stared outside to where pedestrians hurried by on the city sidewalk.

“Look at me, Doriana.”

Doriana slid her gaze to her cousin. She might as well admit defeat. Anita wouldn’t give up. Tenacity was a Santisi family trait.