Joey purses his lips. For a moment, I think he’s going to tell me a deal’s a deal. That I owe him. But he nods. “Yeah, sure.” He lifts his hand to signal the waiter, who seems as disappointed as Joey.
“I’m sorry,” I say when he touches my lower back to lead me out. I have to admit that I’m the one who ruined our date, and I do owe him. Maybe I can shake it off. “I just need some fresh air or something.”
“Sure. You want to go for a walk?” He’s nothing if not accommodating.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
We take the elevator downstairs and step out onto the city sidewalk. After a few deep breaths of air, I do feel better. “You really won’t tell me?”
“No, Sophie.” He sounds sympathetic.
We walk in silence for a stretch, his hand lightly resting on my lower back. My head is a mess of chaotic thoughts, my chest filled with fresh pain as if my father’s death was yesterday and not thirteen years ago. “I’m sorry. I guess seeing you brings it all back. I never had closure.”
He takes my hand. His is warm and large, comforting. “I wish I could give that to you.”
I turn to face him. “Was it quick? Did he suffer? How did he die? Just tell me something. Anything.”
Joey loops an arm behind my shoulders and gently urges me forward until I’m leaning against him, held in his arms. “It was an accident,” he says softly. “Let that knowledge be your closure.”
“Were you there?”
He hesitates a moment before he nods. “I was.” He lowers his face and brushes his lips over mine. “No more questions,bella,” he murmurs.
Joey
Damn. It seems Al was right to keep Sophie on his radar. She hasn’t let it go. Not in the slightest. I get that it’s hard to grieve when you don’t have answers or a body. I assume it also made it easy to blame the Family.
If all she needs is closure, I want to give that to her. But it’s hard when the actual facts might be more incendiary than not knowing.
She melts a bit when I try to distract her with seduction. “I suppose you’re going to demand a do-over on this date.”
“Yeah, I definitely get a do-over.” I wink.
I do appreciate that she got real with me. I want to take away the pain of her father’s death, same as I had that day at his funeral when I took her to the beach.
I hadn’t been attracted to her then–she was just a teen–but I’d been drawn to her. I’d watched her dad die a needless death. Had heard his last words begging us to take care of his girls. So when I saw her trying to escape the funeral, I helped her.
I can’t tell her what happened. Of course, I can’t. But I do wish I could give her peace. I didn’t realize she was still so broken up about it. So unresolved.
My phone rings, and I give an inward curse when I look at the screen. It’s Pauly. Another man who heard Artie Palazzo’s last words. “What’s up?”
“You at your place? A friend of ours got picked up tonight, and I’m short ten grand to post bail.”
“No, I’m on a date, Pauly.”
“Oh really? No kiddin’. Who with?”
I glance at Sophie and give her an apologetic look. “None of your business.”
“Does that mean I know her? Come on, tell me who.”
“Sophie Palazzo.”
Pauly takes a beat. “No shit?” There’s a slightly wary note to his voice. Understandably.
“Yeah.”
“How’d that happen?”