Together Again: Book 3 in the Second Chances series (Crimson Romance) Page 7
He laced his fingers through hers. “Yeah, the damn pager even fucked up Plan B.”
“Plan B?”
“Sunday. My goddamn pager goes off when I’m in the middle of kissing an almost-naked woman thinking my luck was holding.”
“So last night was Plan C. I thought maybe it was because we were both, you know, happy about how well the presentation had gone. Or that we’d had too much to drink.”
“I very carefully had only two drinks before we got to your hotel, which is hardly too much alcohol. And I’m not in the habit of bedding the nearest beautiful woman when I’ve had a good day.”
“Not that you couldn’t if you wanted to.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Beth said that you were … ” She pulled her hand away and covered her mouth. “Oh, God, never mind. I think I’ve had too much wine tonight. Go back to what you were saying.”
“No, I’m finished with my confession. Sounds like you have one to make, too.” He settled back into the couch and half-smiled. “What’d Beth say?”
“Do I have to?”
He nodded.
She sighed. “All right. She said you were a person of interest, I guess would be a good description, with the women in the DA’s office and the police department.” She was twirling her wine glass by the stem, not looking him in the eye.
“And … ?”
“She said something about a virus.”
That made him sit bolt upright. “Oh, for chrissake, she didn’t tell you about that.”
“You know about the Alessandro virus?”
“Yeah, a couple guys I work with found out about it and made sure they told me. In front of a whole lot of other guys I work with. It was fun.” His expression said otherwise.
“She told me I looked like I had a bad case of it. Said I looked at you like you were dessert. I told her we were old friends but I don’t think she believed me. Neither did Danny, for that matter.”
“We are old friends. Now, we’re more than that. Is that bad?”
“No, Tony. It’s good.”
He stood up and held out his hand. “So, now that we’ve both gotten our confessions out of the way, I’m ready to be distracted. How about dessert?”
“I think I’ll pass, if you don’t mind. I ate too much pasta.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I thought Beth said you looked at me … ”
“Oh, that kind of dessert.”
• • •
Somewhere in the middle of the night she woke, unsure where she was for a few minutes until she saw Tony sleeping next to her. She tried to go back to sleep but she couldn’t get her mind to turn off. It was like having a head full of possessed hamsters running around on squeaky wheels, pestering her with questions.
She eased her way out of bed, grabbed the first piece of clothing she found and went out to the darkened living room wearing Tony’s T-shirt. She flicked on a small lamp and looked for something to read that might quiet the damned hamsters. But nothing among his criminal justice textbooks, sports biographies and paperback thrillers looked interesting enough to divert the little devils.
The view from the balcony caught her attention. She turned out the lamp and stood at the sliding glass door mesmerized by the lights of the city and lost in thought until she felt him slide his arms around her waist and nuzzle her neck.
“Here you are. You okay?”
She leaned back against his bare chest. “I’m fine, but I woke up and the hamsters in my head won’t quiet down so I came out here. The city looks beautiful at night, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, assuming you can forget there are dozens and dozens of burglaries, assaults, domestic violence incidents, drive-by shootings and who knows how many murders going on.”
“You’re killing the romance, Alessandro.”
“And you and your hamsters aren’t out here doing the same?”
“I wasn’t thinking about murder and domestic violence, no.”
“But if I know you — and I do — you’re running those hamsters around trying to figure out something like what happens when we’re old enough for Social Security — if there still is Social Security — and have to live on our pensions and support our aged mothers while we finish sending the last kid to graduate school.”
“I’m not sure I love it or hate it that you know me that well.”
“I love it that I do. Does that count?”
She turned and faced him, putting her hands on his chest. “I know I love … I’ve loved being with you this week.”
He held her close. “Me, too. And, Margo, I don’t know any more than you do what this means for next week or thirty years from now. I do know we can’t figure it out tonight. I’m willing to take a chance we can in time. Are you?”
“I’ve never been very good at being here and now, Tony, or taking those kinds of risks. But for you, I’ll try.”
He kissed her gently. “Maybe there’s a way I can get you here and now for a while, anyway. Want me to give it a try?”
Chapter 9
After breakfast on Saturday morning, Tony left for work saying he’d be back in a couple hours but would call to check in. Margo, the designated cook for that night, was about to leave for the Reading Terminal Market when the apartment phone rang. She answered on the second ring. “Hey, you. Miss me?”
There was silence from the other end.
“Hello?” she said.
A woman’s voice said, “I’m sorry. I must have gotten the wrong number. I’m trying to reach Tony Alessandro.” The caller sounded familiar, but Margo couldn’t quite place her.
“You have the right number but he’s not here at the moment. Can I take a message?”
“Just tell him his sister Catherine called.”
“Oh, Catherine, hi. It’s Margo Keyes.”
“Margo? What are you … ? Never mind, none of my business. I’ll call him on his cell. I assume he has it with him.”
“I’m sure he does, it’s not on his dresser. He’s at work.”
“I’ll call him there.” Catherine paused for a moment. “Will I get a chance to see you before you go back to the West Coast?”
“Probably not. I leave tomorrow. Maybe when I come back to see Mom in the fall?”
Twenty minutes later, as she was walking down Chestnut Street, her cell phone rang. This time she looked to see who it was, although the caller was no surprise. She’d been expecting this call.
“I’m sorry,” she said when she picked up. “I’m really, really sorry.”
“So you do know about caller ID,” Tony said, laughing.
“Of course I do. I didn’t look because I figured it was you.”
“In the last twenty minutes I have heard from Catherine twice and once each from Theresa, Mary Ellen and Mom. It may be a record for all three sisters and my mom calling that close together.”
“Oh, God, now I’m more than sorry. I’m scared.”
“You should be. The second call from Catherine was to confirm the time for dinner at my mom’s tonight with the full cast of my family plus your mother. We are to bring wine.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly. I wanted you to myself. Now I have to share.”
“I don’t know how else to say I’m sorry. At least I can get the wine.” She laughed nervously. “Are you mad?”
“You mean, do I think you’re a bad girl? No. Besides, I kinda like bad girls.”
• • •
As she drove her rental car to the old neighborhood that evening, Margo asked, “Do you have any idea why this meeting of the clan has been called?” She tried to sound off-hand about it, although she was anything but.
He shook his head. “My sisters said they just wanted to see us. Although I did get a lot of questions about our going to the reunion together and what they seem to assume is a week of you staying with me.”
“Damn it, I should never have left the hotel. All I’d have to deal with then was Greer if she saw you coming in and
out of my room.”
“I think it’ll be okay tonight.” He glanced over at her, his mouth twitching with amusement. “Although, now that I think about it, my sisters haven’t seen much of you since you graduated from law school. So maybe they’ll look at this as their chance to catch up on your religious habits, professional prospects, relationship status, that sort of thing. Don’t think anyone will bother asking if you’re still a virgin, not after a week of living with me.” The amusement turned into a huge grin.
“Thanks, Alessandro, I was hoping for something a bit more comforting from you.”
Margo pulled up to the curb at his mother’s house a few minutes later. An uneasy feeling crept up the back of her neck as she got out of the car, as if she were being watched. She asked Tony if he felt it, too. He laughed.
“Of course, we’re being watched. There are a dozen people inside, staring out every window. In fact … ” He took her in his arms, backed her against the car and kissed her with enthusiasm.
She broke up the kiss by laughing. “What are you doing?”
“Giving them something to look at.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek, reached in the back seat of the car and brought out the bottles of wine they’d brought. Margo picked up the flowers she’d added to the wine purchases.
“Ready for this?” With his free hand, he took hers and they started up the path to the house. Before they got to the door, it opened and Theresa and Mary Ellen, the sisters on either side of Tony in age, came down the steps to greet Margo, while Catherine, the oldest of the four Alessandro siblings, stood in the doorway. They pulled her into the house leaving their brother to bring up the rear with the wine and the flowers he’d rescued from Margo when his siblings had captured her.
“Hey,” he said, “what am I, chopped liver?”
“Tone, we see you all the time. We only see Margo at weddings,” Theresa said. “Deal with it.”
Two of the Alessandro daughters had been Margo’s childhood playmates — ringleader Catherine, two years older than Margo and Tony, and best friend Theresa, less than a year older than the couple. Tag-along Mary Ellen, three years younger and the baby, had been the one they pulled in wagons, dressed in odd costumes and excluded from teenage conversations when they got to that stage. In the years since she’d moved to Portland, Margo had seen them mostly at their weddings or in passing when she visited her mother.
“Get Margo a glass of wine, Tony,” Catherine ordered when they were all in the house. He gave a palms-up gesture of acquiescence and walked into the kitchen with the flowers and wine to obey Catherine’s command.
Margo didn’t see him again for almost an hour, trapped in the living room “catching up” with his sisters and an occasional husband or kid, a process that felt more like a job interview than a social conversation. When the interrogation sessions tapered off, Tony ambled in and perched on the arm of her chair, offering her wine from his glass as hers was now empty.
“How you holding up?” he asked. He took a sip of wine from the glass she’d handed back to him.
“The bar exam was easier. My last g-y-n appointment was more fun.”
He almost choked on the wine. “Didn’t you use to say you envied me having all these sisters?”
“I think I seriously over-romanticized the appeal.”
“You’re doing fine, sugar.” He tipped up her chin, bent his head and kissed her.
“Is my brother annoying you?” Catherine said, from the door of the dining room.
Margo shook her head. “Actually, he stopped being annoying when we were about eleven or twelve. But in high school, when I wanted him to bother me, he didn’t pay any attention.” She looked up at him and smiled.
“We tried to teach him better but I guess we weren’t successful,” Catherine said with a grin that looked exactly like her brother’s.
“I’m outta here,” Tony said as he rolled off the arm of the chair. “If I learned anything from growing up with three sisters, it’s that I can hold my own in this kind of conversation with one woman, but I’m in over my head with any more than that.”
Catherine settled herself on the couch. “How are you doing, my dear? We can be a bit overwhelming, can’t we?”
“I’m fine, Catherine. You know I’ve always loved your family. Don’t you remember when I was maybe nine or ten and I tried to convince Tony he should swap places with me? I think I told him since he was the only boy he’d be happier being the only child and I’d be happier with all his sisters. I don’t remember why I thought no one would notice the change, but I was convinced I could pull it off.”
“There’s another way to join the family, one I imagine my brother has thought of.”
Celeste Alessandro came in just as Margo was trying to figure out how to respond, telling her oldest daughter, “You’ve all had Margo trapped in here since she arrived. Let her visit with her mother and get something to eat, please.”
Margo escaped Catherine’s scrutiny as fast as she could, walking toward the kitchen with her arm around Tony’s mother.
“I want to thank you, Margo,” Celeste said, patting Margo’s hand.
“For what, Celeste?”
“For how my Anthony looks. He hasn’t been this happy in a long time. It does my heart good to see him like this. You’ve put that beautiful smile back on his face and I’m grateful.”
This wasn’t quite the rescue Margo had thought it would be and she didn’t know how to respond so she just patted Celeste’s hand.
After filling her plate, Margo went into the back yard to find her mother enjoying the attention of some of the Alessandro grandchildren. She dropped to the ground next to Dolores’ chair.
“You look distracted, Margo. Is something wrong?” Dolores asked, stroking her daughter’s hair.
“Not wrong, exactly. I guess I’m uncomfortable about all this interest in Tony and me. It’s not that big a deal, just old friends hanging out for a few days.”
“Staying in his apartment is old friends hanging out? Well, if you say so.” She patted her daughter’s cheek.
“Mom, it’s not like … ” Margo stopped because it was exactly like that.
“Besides,” Dolores continued, “you both look so happy. And it’s no secret Celeste and I have always hoped that you two would get together.”
Tony appeared at the top of the steps to the kitchen and motioned to her. He looked less relaxed than he had a few minutes before.
She followed him into the dining room, where no one was at the moment.
He took her hands. “I got paged.”
“Oh, well,” she began. “I’ll wait for you … ”
“I have to go to Newark,” he interrupted.
“What’s in Jersey?”
“Jameson’s briefcase. Along with one dead and two live Russian mob guys, the Newark PD, and FBI agents not connected with the task force I’m working with, but who’ve apparently been trailing the Russians for months but have only now gotten around to letting us know about it.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “So, it’s officially fucked up beyond all recognition. One of my sisters can drive me home or I can call for a cab.”
“No, I’ll drive you. When will you be back?”
“Not sure. Probably not until after your flight leaves tomorrow. But you can stay at my place if you want.”
“God, no. I don’t want to be there without you. I’ll take you home and come back here.”
“This isn’t how I planned to spend the rest of the weekend.” He folded his arms around her and kissed her forehead.
She snuggled against his shoulder. “Me neither, but it’s the way it works.”
Tony said good-bye to his family and Margo made arrangements to return and stay with her mother. When they got to Tony’s apartment, they packed their respective bags. Waiting in the lobby of his building for his ride, he put his arm around her. “If I say we need to talk, will you panic again?”
She laughed. “No, we do but I guess we’ll have
to do it on the phone.”
“Unless … when will I see you again?”
“I wasn’t planning to come back to Philly until September.”
“Could you come back sooner? Or we could meet someplace — Chicago’s about half-way.”
“I’ll talk to Jeff on Monday about a long weekend, maybe next month.”
Before they could make any more plans, his ride arrived.
By the time Margo got back to Fir Street, the evening had progressed to dessert and after-dinner coffee. Theresa poured her a big glass of wine as soon as she walked in and led her to the couch in the living room where they could have some privacy.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine. This is what Tony does. Not much you can do about it.”
“I was thinking more about what’s going on between you two.”
“Oh, that.”
“Yeah, that. You and Tony.”
“Me and Tony.” Margo sighed. “I don’t know what to say, Theresa. I’m still trying to figure it out.”
“You want to hear my theory?”
“I might as well say yes. You’ll tell me anyway.”
“I think the two of you have been in love with each other since you were about fourteen. It’s been there so long it’s like background noise. You don’t even notice it. It’s way past time you did.”
“You haven’t told your brother this, have you?”
“Of course I have.”
“What did he say?”
“Ask him.” Theresa took Margo’s hand. “I will say this. Today he was more like the Tony we all love than he’s been in a long time. The grin on his face, that kiss outside … ”
“Yeah, that was classic, wasn’t it?” Margo smiled thinking about it.
“Except he hasn’t been the Tony who’d do something like that in a long time. Mom says he’s been happier this week than he’s been in ages. So, I want to ask you a favor. As a friend.”
“Anything. You’ve always been a good friend.”
“Margo, I know you. You’ll think of all the ways this won’t work and then make sure one of them happens just to prove you’re right. Or to keep from being hurt. Whatever. For once, don’t do that. Just let it happen. You might be surprised how well it’ll turn out.”