Loving Leo (The Romanovsky Brothers Book 3) (3 page)

“Are you married?” Bette asked, pushing a tiny forkful of food past her lips.

“I’m single,” Jessica answered.  She felt Leo’s eyes hit her, but didn’t look his way.

“How in the world do you afford a house in this neighborhood, by yourself, on a graphic designer’s salary?” Zoey beamed.

Val looked up.  Apparently, Jessica now had his attention, too.

Roman’s eyes hit her as well.

She swallowed.  “Business was booming for the first five years or so, and then everything just… fell off.  I saved enough to buy a nice place, and the house was a bargain, so I swiped it up. Still…” The lies were piling up fast.  They always did.  “Insurance, utilities, taxes… it adds up, you know?  It’s been hard.  Scary.  Not knowing where my next dollar’s coming from.  I’ve actually been shopping my work around Manhattan for the last few months, hoping for an office job.  Even though office jobs have always been my worst nightmare—”

Zoey gasped.

The moment she did, Jessica knew she had her right where she wanted her.

“There’s an opening for graphic designers at Novsky!” Zoey cried.

“Is there
really
?” Jessica asked.

Angie’s eyebrow seemed to be permanently raised.

Zoey nudged Val, excitement filling her eyes.

Val wasn’t nearly as impressed as his fiance.  One nudge from Zoey, however, spurred him enough to respond to Jessica. “If you hate the idea of an office job, you will definitely hate Novsky.”

Jessica nearly kicked herself for getting carried away.  Her partner, Chet Lorrick, always told her she talked too much.

“Never use ten words when all you need is five,”
he always said.

Jessica hated that Chet was probably smirking that wiseass smirk of his from where he was listening to all of this, planted in the empty house around the corner.  She looked down at her cleavage and breathed in relief when she saw her wire was still out of sight.

Val remained detached, monotone.  “Novsky works under an open concept floor plan.  There are no offices, no cubicles, no doors, no walls.  I don’t even have walls, and I’m the founder and CEO.”

“She won’t even be in the office.  You know good and well most of the designers work from home,” Zoey said.

Val met Zoey’s eyes and held them.

“I love open concepts,” Jessica said, sensing she was losing him.

He looked back, eyebrows rising at how quickly she’d changed her tune.

“I may have spoken too strongly when I said I hated offices.  I’m sure working in an office is a great way to make business contacts that will be invaluable in the future.  The pros surely outweigh the cons.”

Those eyebrows stayed raised on Val’s face.  He looked bored to death, edgy, and utterly unimpressed with Jessica.

Jessica’s eyes trailed back to Roman.  Perhaps Val wasn’t unimpressed, but deeply distracted, much like his older brother, who was back to staring at Val with hardness in his eyes.

Still making his plate, hands full, Zoey’s elbow came flying at Val once more.  “Val is doing interviews all next week.  I know, because it’s my position he’s interviewing for.”  She looked down and covered her belly.  “I’m going to be taking leave soon.”  She nudged Val again.

Val looked at Zoey.  The look quickly escalated into a deep stare.  Something passed between the two of them, something strong, because when he looked back to Jessica this time, the emptiness that had been present in his eyes a moment before had vanished.

“Tomorrow,” he said.  “Nine o’clock.  The office is on the corner of Wall Street and Pearl.”

“There with bells on,” Jessica said.

“Good enough.” Val looked back to Zoey just as she set a full plate of food down in front of him.  “Thank you, baby.”

Zoey rubbed his back and leaned over, popping a kiss on his cheek.

“Enough.” Tony was already shutting it down.

The microscopic smile Val had been fighting to the death finally broke on his face, and Zoey kissed his cheek again.

“Ay,” Tony’s voice rose.  “What I say?”

Val and Zoey finally separated, both fighting smiles.

Jessica watched the exchange.  When those two crashed and burned, she was now sure she wouldn’t enjoy it as much as she’d imagined.  It would just be sad.  They were clearly in love, but that love was tainted.  The well was full of poison.  Val knew it.  Zoey didn’t.

Still, from the way he looked at her, Jessica would have almost guessed Val
didn’t
know that his relationship was doomed
. 
As his eyes studied Zoey, they were so clear, so open, so full of trust, that the amateur eye would call it
forever.

Jessica knew better.  Val and Zoey weren’t forever.  They couldn’t be.

Utensils scraped against plates as everyone in the room delved into their meals.

“So, Ashley, how long have you been in the neighborhood?” Tony asked.

“About a year.”

“How have I never seen you?” Leo demanded.

Her eyes met his.

“I would definitely remember a beautiful face like yours,” he purred.

Hisses flew around the table.

“
Cheese
,” Zoey teased.

“That’s the best line you got?” Angie winced.

“I’m eating.” Gary motioned to his half-empty plate.

Leo lifted his shoulders, motioning to Jessica with both hands, thumb and forefingers pressed together.  “She’s a beautiful woman. I can’t tell a beautiful woman she looks beautiful? 
Look
at her
.  She’s gorgeous.”

“She is gorgeous.” Zoey nodded, giving Leo a break.  She continued to rub Val’s back.  He was still watching her, plate untouched.  “She looks like a young Iman.”

“I get Iman sometimes,” Jessica said.  Constantly, actually.  She’d learned at an early age that being
constantly
compared to a supermodel was something she was never allowed to talk about. If anything, she was to rebuff all supermodel comparisons immediately, feigning obliviousness, lest she be hated by everyone in the room.  “I don’t really see it.”

“She’s better than Iman.” Leo watched her.  “Much more beautiful.”

“Let’s not go crazy,” Jessica mumbled.

“Where are you from?”  Leo asked.

“I was born in Ethiopia.” Jessica looked at Angie.

Of course, Angie’s face was awash with amusement, knowing good and well that—even though she did have Ethiopian ancestry—Jessica had actually been born and raised in the meanest housing project in Jersey City. 

“Ashley Williams is kind of a super white name for an Ethiopian girl,” Gary said, earning the embarrassed glares of everyone in the room.

“Gary,” Zoey said.  “Remember that talk we had?  The one where I suggested you think about what you want to say three times before you actually say it?  This is one of those times where I can tell you didn’t do that.”

Gary shrugged in the same defensive way Leo had earlier.

“It’s okay,” Jessica said.  “Gary… I’m actually named after the American woman who delivered me.” 
Lies. 
“I was breech during labor, and I could’ve been badly injured if Nurse Ashley Williams hadn’t saved the day.  My parents named me to honor her.  Ashley Williams Nebiyounigat.  My parents dropped the Nebiyounigat when we moved here, hoping “Williams” would help me become more assimilated to our new country.”  This lie was piling up fast.  Jessica hoped Gary would drop it, because she could see it spiraling.

“That’s sad,” he said, sitting taller.  “I think Netflixaphian is kind of a cool name.”

That he’d just butchered.  Jessica fought a smile.  “It’s not so bad.  We moved to America when I was two.  I don’t really remember Ethiopia.”

“Leo used to torture this one Ethiopian girl we went to school with.” Gary laughed, motioning to Leo with his fork.

Angie and Jessica shared a wide-eyed look.

Leo’s eyes widened as well, but they were fixed on Gary, silently drilling him to shut up.  It seemed his family was on a mission to make him look like the biggest asshole alive tonight.

“What did you used to call that girl all the time?  Big boned…” Gary shook his head, realizing that wasn’t right.  “Burly…” He struggled.

“Beer Belly Borgia,” Angie finally jumped in.

Gary stabbed his fork in her direction.  “Yes!”  He laughed with her.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Leo asked, looking back and forth between them.

Jessica was annoyed too, ready to smash those cat-eyed glasses on Angie’s face.  She was having way too much fun watching her squirm.

Suddenly self-conscious, Jessica found herself wondering if she really
did
look all that different from her Beer Belly Borgia
days. Sure, she’d lost a ton of weight, the bowl cut she’d rocked back then was now all the way down her back—almost touching her ass—but she still had the same eyes, the same sienna skin, and the same relentless curves.

Her eyes met Leo’s, but she didn’t see recognition.  With a sigh of relief, she noticed there wasn’t recognition in anyone else’s eyes either.  No one but Angie Colt.  Jessica made a mental note to murder that girl the next time they found themselves alone.

“I was a real jerk off in high school.  I was,” Leo admitted. “But I’m not that way anymore.”

Gary sniggered, and it appeared Leo had to drum up every ounce of self-control he had not to leap across that table and take him around the neck.

“You’ve never gone back to Africa?” Tony asked, saving Gary from death.

“Not since I was a kid,” Jessica said.  “My dad’s side of the family was assassinated by the Kenyan mafia, so they don’t exactly have fond memories.”  She shifted in her seat, enjoying herself.  She loved making shit up.

“Cool,” Gary said around a cheek full of food.

Leo leaned over the table, catching Gary’s eyes.  “Her dad’s side of the family getting assassinated is cool?”  He raised a hand when Gary tried to respond.  “Just shut your mouth.  Just eat.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Gary grumbled before heeding Leo’s demand and going back to his food.

Jessica watched Gary sheepishly, feeling bad.  She had thought her fake story was pretty cool too.

“Do you ever feel like you’re missing out on knowing your culture firsthand?” Bette asked.

Jessica shrugged.  “I don’t think it’s any different from an Italian American who’s never been to Italy.  Or a Russian American who’s never been to Russia.”  She purposely used Tony and Bette’s nationalities as her example, noting the look the married couple shared over the table.

“That’s true,” Bette smiled.   “Never thought of it that way.”

“We should plan a trip,” Tony said.  “To Italy or Russia.  We should do it, all of us, this year.”

“We should make it Russia, not Italy, that way Rome can enjoy it too,” Gary said.

The silence that swept across the table was bone chilling.  Even the silverware stopped clanking, leaving an eerie emptiness lingering.

The fact that Tony was not Roman’s biological father was still a touchy subject at this table.  That much was evident.  Nobody jumped in to note that, with the surname Romanovsky, even Tony was bound to have a little Russian in him, however far down the line it was.

Jessica looked at Gary. Apparently, he was the Romanovsky that
lived
with his foot in his mouth.  He went back to demolishing his food like nothing was out of the ordinary, even as his words blasted the air from every pair of lungs at the table, hand delivered a vat of awkwardness that was torturous to stew in, and left each one of them at a loss how to get out of it.

The silence went on.

Leo leaned close.  “I told you these people were crazy.”

“Your family is definitely crazy.”  Jessica stared down at her running shoes and his combat boots as they trudged along the asphalt in the middle of the quiet tree-lined street.  The streetlights shone a dull yellow, illuminating their faces and darkening them again as they moved.  “They’re crazy, but they love you.  You’re lucky.”  She sighed.  “I just wish we hadn’t had to leave so quickly.”

“I’m surprised how badly you wanted to stay.  By the end of dinner with my family, guests are usually breaking their necks in the race to get away.”

“Nah.  They’re sweet.  Your mother is an angel, and damn can she cook.”

“She’s the shit,” Leo agreed.

“I wasn’t in a hurry.”  She threw him a squinted eye.  “If anything,
you
seemed eager to get me out of there.”

“How else was I supposed to get you alone?”

“Is that why you insisted on walking me home, even though my house is, literally, right around the corner?”

“Maybe I’m just a gentlemen.”

“Are
gentlemen
hitting women with their penis cars now?  Is that what’s hot in these streets?  Who said chivalry’s dead?”

“How quickly you forget that you threw yourself in front of me.  Even now, when I’m trying to walk you home, like a
gentleman
, you’ve managed to steer us straight into the middle of the damn road.  You’re trying to get us both killed now.”

Jessica turned away, giving him the back of her head as a smile teased her lips. When the smile dissipated, she snapped her gaze back to him.  “Maybe the company you bring home, I’m assuming
female
company, are always itching to get away because they’re mortified when your family calls them by three different names in rapid fire succession.”

“That doesn’t happen every time.”

“I don’t believe you.”  She snickered when his head fell.  “At all.  I personally thought it was hilarious that your family put you on blast about the hordes of women you bring home.”

“
Hordes
is a strong word.”

“They confused me with three different women, Leo. 
Three.
”

“Three girls does not a horde make.”

“Oh, spare me, Yoda.  They would’ve fired off a hundred more names if you hadn’t jumped in and shut them up.”

“Ay.  Hold on.”  He met her eyes and covered his heart, feigning offense.  “I’m a single man in my twenties, sweetheart.  Do I enjoy women?  Yes.  Has my family met their fair share of them?  Absolutely.  But why not?  I’m enjoying my life.”

“Is this the spiel you give to all your side hoes?  Because it needs work.”

He sputtered, and then laughed.

“Do you have no standards at all?”

He leaned back, whistling.

“I’m serious,” she said.  “Do you bring every random fun box who throws you a halfhearted smile home to your mom?”

He faced her, walking sideways. “I think Ma would be more concerned if I wasn’t bringing home random fun boxes.  For a while there, she was seriously worried about Val.  She used to call secret family meetings about him.”

Her eyes widened.  “Val doesn’t bring a lot of girls home?”

“The only girl he’s ever brought home is the one girl who was already there.”

“He’s never been with anyone but Zoey?”

He squinted at her, tilting his head.  “How do you know about him and Zoey?”

“Uh…” She faltered before sputtering. “I could tell from their chemistry at the table. It was obvious.”

“Obvious, yeah, and weird as hell.  Zoey moved in with us ten years ago.  She became a part of the family.”

“Well, the tabloids have a different story to tell about Val.”

“He’s been in bed with the whole of Manhattan, don’t get me wrong, but he’s never
claimed
anyone but Zoey.”

“It must be weird to have a family who’s always in the news.  You can’t even manwhore in peace without seeing your face splattered all over a rag the next day.”

“Thankfully, Val is the only one with that problem.  He’s about to be a billionaire, and has the nerve to do it with a handsome face like that?  Of course he’s all over the news.  Manhattan worships him.”

“When you brag about how handsome Val is, are you really just indirectly bragging about how handsome
you
are?”

Leo laughed.

“You are twins, after all,” Jessica said.

“Fraternal.”

“To the naked eye, though, you’re identical.”

“Well, we aren’t.  Not DNA wise, or personality wise.”

Jessica let the silence linger, hoping for more.

Leo shrugged.  “Like I said, Val never brought a single girlfriend home his whole life, and Ma was concerned. So, really, when you think about it, all of the women I bring home have been more like… a public service.” He straightened.  “A way to stop Ma from having a heart attack, worrying about her kids dying alone.  For every woman Val didn’t bring home, I put ten more in her spot.  I do it all for Ma.  That’s just the kind of guy I am.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I enjoy beautiful women.  What can I say?  What do you want me to do?”

“Your Jersey accent is showing its face.”

“It does that from time to time.  Usually when a beautiful woman is busting my balls relentlessly.”

Fighting a smile, she pointed to the right.  “This is me.”

His eyes followed her finger, then his eyebrows shot up. “This place?  I could’ve sworn it was still sitting.”

“Nope.  I snatched it up.”

“The former owner of this house was tied up in a lot of unsavory stuff before it got foreclosed.  I hope you didn’t get saddled with a bunch of problems that weren’t yours.”

“Papers have been signed for a year and I still have all my skin, but I appreciate the concern.”

Leo followed her up the driveway to the front door, studying the grounds.  It was
almost
the largest house in the neighborhood, second only to the Romanovsky’s.

“Well…” he said.  “You definitely got yourself a beautiful home here.  Hell of a bargain, too, last I checked.”

“I’m surprised none of your brothers snatched it up.”

“Too close to the folks.”

“Can’t have that.  Not when you have hordes of beautiful women to entertain.”

He slapped both hands over his heart and then threw them out in surrender.  “Hold your fire, baby, good
God
.”

She giggled, coming to a stop at the door.

He dropped his head when she faced him.

“Is this the part where you pretend to be all bashful before you go in for the kill?” she asked.

His head shot up and his eyes widened.

When his surprised silence stretched on, she filled it.  “Thanks for mowing me down in your Porsche today.  It was fun.”

He blanched like he’d just taken a knife to the gut, eyes searching hers before they fell to her lips.

She let those lips fall open, breathing in the fragrant night air.

He leaned in, his eyes fluttering closed, but she pressed a hand to his chest, pushing him away.

His eyes popped open, and so did his mouth, a breathy laugh splitting his lips as his head fell again.

“I don’t kiss boys with hordes.”  She kept her hand on his chest, arm outstretched.

His head stayed bowed when she pushed him again, pretending to stumble.  He took hold of her wrist before he went too far, pulling her with him.

Jessica tottered forward and then planted her feet, holding her breath when he met her eyes again.

“I want to see you,” he said.

“You’ll see me tomorrow.  I have that interview with Val, remember?”

He searched her eyes, gave her arm a halfhearted tug, and then released his hold on her wrist.

Jessica stepped back toward the door of the house.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said.

Jessica felt his eyes burning through her backside when she turned away, and the blaze didn’t relent until she stepped into the house and closed the door behind her.

She slammed her back against the closed door, trying to take a deep breath.

Leo had tried to kiss her.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she jammed her eyes shut when it stalled, coming to a grinding halt under her ribcage.  She willed herself to remain calm as one, two, three seconds passed.

Squeezing her eyes closed tighter, she pushed the vision of Leo’s plush lips out of her head.

Her stalled heart rebounded, resuming a steady pound.

She exhaled, reminding herself to refill her prescription.

Her heart hadn’t made that move in a long time.

“You giggled.”

Her eyes flew open when a male voice floated through the air, bouncing off the bare walls and sweeping across the lonely floors of the beautiful house. The voice echoed through the vacant halls before circling right back to her, surrounding her like a one-man symphony, forcing her to turn her head toward the sound without moving her body.

From behind the only two pieces of furniture in that entire house—two folding tables pushed together—her partner, Chet Lorrick, watched her with laughing eyes.  The tables were in the dining room, littered with security screens, radios, and various other knickknacks appropriate for an extended stakeout.  Chet spun half circles in his desk chair, still smiling that exasperating smile, with his hands cradled behind his head.

His caramel skin glowed against the three bright security screens before him.  Dozens of wires fell from the tables and littered the floor, traveling at all angles, leading uneven paths to power outlets all over the room.

His hazel eyes danced the way they only did for Jessica, and he craned his neck to gaze at her over the screens, making his prominent nostrils flare.

“You
giggled
,
” he said again.  “And I’m not even going to
ask
what went on in that bathroom.  There was a very unusual amount of gasping and panting going on in there.  I almost poured myself a glass of wine.”

Holding his eyes across the room, Jessica reached under her bra and tore out the wire that had been scratching her boobs all evening.

“It was a real bitch getting this thing hidden under my sports bra.” She removed the wire’s receiver from inside her armband, where it had been doubling as an MP3 player.

“I never doubted you, or your bra, for a single moment.”

“You’re an animal.”

“Hey, neither of you have let me down yet.”

“How was the audio?” she asked, approaching the tables while undoing her braid.

“Muddled.” His eyes rose higher with every step she took closer to him, following the wire when she tossed it down in front of him.  “But that’s to be expected when the microphone’s been shoved between your giant cans.”

“It’s the best I could do.  Leo Romanovsky is a titty man.  A pervert. He looks at a woman and sees an object.”  She tapped the underside of her breasts, making them jiggle.

Chet lit up, nearly bursting into laughter.

“The girls had to be on full display,” Jessica said.  “And the pants had to be tight.  My giant boobs were the only place a wire wouldn’t be completely obvious.”

“I could still understand most of what I heard.  Like that giggle.  A giggle is one of those sounds that’s pretty much unmistakable.  Even when the audio is shit.”  He showed his crooked teeth as a smile lit up his face.

“Fuck off, Chet.”

“I didn’t even think you knew how to giggle.”

“I had to stay in character.”

“When did we agree that Ashley Williams was a giggler?” His eyes followed her as she entered the kitchen and fetched the only thing in the fridge, a can of soda.  

“I need this to be beer,” she said, moving back to the table and taking a seat in the empty chair beside him.  She removed her running jacket and slung it on the table before throwing her sneakers on top of it, crossing her legs at the ankle. After frowning around another sip, she slammed the soda on the table.  “I really, really, need this to be beer.”

“Not on duty.”  Leaning forward on the table with a grin, he nodded toward her body. “That’s gonna bruise.”

Jessica looked down at her arm, noting the scrape.  “I’ll be fine.”

“You collect bruises like a redneck collects rifles. I know you’ll be fine.”

“So why bring it up?”

“It just amazes me more every day.  How you’ll stop at nothing to solve a case, even if it means tearing your own skin straight from the bone.”

“Damn right.”

“It’s okay
not
to be married to your work sometimes…”

“Not when solving this case would mean my promotion.  A huge raise.  A bigger office.   Respect, as a woman, in this
field, which is almost unheard of.” Jessica nearly screamed in frustration as she thought of the case the FBI had been building on Governor Victor King.  Now that he was officially running for President, the ten year investigation on him had been fast tracked, and out of all of the felonious crimes he had his dirty hands in, Jessica had been assigned the
Romanovskys
?  “I think we both know why we were assigned this family, Chet.”