“A Hollywood girl, you mean. Where I come from, women tend to have a little more meat on their bones, some muscle.”
“I thought you lived in Boston?”
He ignored her and she got the impression he was doing a mental eye roll. She had to stop taunting him, stop sparring with him and start being friendly. But it was no use. She had to be herself, didn’t she? She couldn’t friggin’ monitor every damn thing she said just to make him like her, could she? That would be ludicrous.
Plus, she had no idea how to make him like her. She had no choice but to be her reckless, flirtatious self and let the chips fall. Her heart hammered and she thought about getting up to get some wine for herself.
But she stayed put, picked up her fork, and stabbed the steak.
She realized she was only eating to please him. Damn. She’d promised herself to stop doing that man-pleasing behavior. Men weren’t worth subjugating who you were just so they’d stick around. Not even hunky, solid, average Joe.
* * *
“You seemto be enjoying your meal. You’re a steak-and-potato guy, then.”
“My favorite meal.” It occurred to him that she might consider it provincial. She’d hardly touched her food after the first bite. “You’re not a fan. Don’t tell me you’re a vegetarian.”
“No, I should be. I am sometimes, but I always cheat—don’t tell my friend Sunny. She’s unforgiving.” Mae rolled her eyes. They crinkled into a charming smile that he would swear was as authentic as Boston cream pie. And just as sweet.
“You were telling me about Sunny. You said she told you about Salvatore Vito’s release from jail. Is that why you called the Zero Go Team?” He wanted to know how she even knew about them, but held back. His idle curiosity had no place in this discussion. He wiped his mouth with the napkin and sat back. She returned to sipping wine rather than eating.
“Yeah. Sunny’s a righteous pip. You’d like her.” She furrowed her brow, then added, “Or maybe not. I actually don’t know if you even like me.” She paused and waited as if she expected him to confirm or deny. No way he was falling into her trap to personalize their relationship. He said nothing. She continued to take miniscule sips. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone nurse a glass of pinot noir with such a sensual teasing bent.
He had to break the tension before his cock exploded.
“It doesn’t matter whether I like you or not. You’re my client.”
“But?”
“Fine. I like you fine. You seem like a hard-working, ambitious, and successful woman. You okay now?”
She nodded, but she looked more annoyed than anything else. Joe had no idea how he could have messed that up. He’d given her all the best accolades he could bestow. And he realized they were all absolutely true.
“Sunny told me about Salvatore and jokingly said I should watch out because he might want his daddy’s clothes back. We laughed, but I had a feeling it wasn’t a joke. The first thing I thought of was the key I’d found. I tried calling Gina Vito again. Same result. I tried putting it out of my mind, but I started watching the news in the evenings. Of all things.” She laughed at herself and spread both arms as if in amazement.
He held back his smile. She’d stopped drinking the wine and picked up a green bean with her fingers to munch on absently.
“So when I saw two days later a report of a break-in at a bank where safety deposit boxes were trashed, I wondered about it. The police had no leads. It looked like a professional job. What really got to me was the fact that the bank was in the same town where the widow lived, in San Juan Capistrano.”
She paused a beat and he rose to clear their plates. He didn’t want to offer her another glass of wine before she finished her story, so he said, “Would you like some coffee?”
“Sure, why not? It’ll counteract the sleep effects of the wine. Smart thinking, Joe. Cream, no sugar.”
“I would have guessed that.” Ever since he’d gone into the coffee shop business he’d become pretty good at guessing what people liked in their coffee. There was a pattern to it.
“I bet you take yours black.”
“Too easy. You don’t get any points for that one.”
“That makes us even.” She gave him a cheeky smile. He liked it. He turned his attention to getting them a couple of coffees using the Keurig. At least they had it outfitted with his house brand: Cuppa Joe. He chose the strongest brew for them. He needed her to stay alert, and it was his favorite.
He sat back down across from her and set the two mugs on the table.
“Smells good.”
“You were telling me about the bank robbery in San Juan Capistrano where Antonio Vito’s widow lived.”
“Her name was—is—Gina. I figured I was being paranoid to be nervous about it until the next day. Then I saw the car following me home from the studio. I tried to tell myself it was a coincidence. But when I saw it on the news that Salvatore was on the town in LA that night and presumably living locally with his mother, and I knew it was no coincidence. That’s when I called the Zero Go Team.”