Ava was infuriating.
A damned stubborn woman.
And she was fucking irresistible.
Call me a fucker, but I was kissing her, and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do to stop me. I’d waited a long time. I could read her well. She was about to throw me out on my ass forever.
Tough. Not gonna happen, and I let her know it.
My mouth slammed on hers, my tongue taking advantage of her surprise to push past her outrage.
Her mixed signals amused me.
Her fingers bit into my shoulders pushing me away, while her lips responded to my kiss. The moan that vibrated from her throat made me want to lift her against the door and grind into her. Yet I reined in my instincts because what I wanted from Ava was more than a quick fuck.
I tore my lips away and stepped back. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”
“How dare you!”
I raised a brow. “You kissed me back.”
She swiped her hair from her face. “I was pushing you away.”
“Yeah? And the reason you’re not pinned against that door the way I wanted to kiss you is because of what happened with Silvio.”
“I thought you said we should never mention him again.”
“Maybe after this question.” I moved closer and brushed away her hair. Her eyes continued to shoot sparks at me. “Does this closeness bother you? Does it remind you of when he held the knife to your face?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Good. I wanted that out of the way.” I lifted her chin with the crook of a finger. “Because I fuck hard, cara.” The blue eyes I loved so much widened. “But I’m giving you a little more time.”
I forced myself to let her go and started down the steps.
“More time for what?” she called after me. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”
Tell yourself that. I raised my arm and waved without looking at her.
I was halfway down the stairs when the main door of the building opened and Robert McGrath walked in.
The surprise on his face was so comical, I had to control my amusement as we came face to face at the bottom of the stairs.
I had two choices. Hold out my hand and introduce myself or leave Ava to explain. I chose the latter.
“Good evening.” I passed her brother and left the brownstone.
Digging out the brick inside my suit jacket, I called Eric. He answered on the second ring. “I’m at the corner of Gates and Grand. I wasn’t expecting you to pick up.” I was prepared to leave him a voice message.
“Look behind you,” he said.
I glanced over my shoulder, and, sure enough, the Bentley was rolling up.
I crossed the street and got into the vehicle. “Told you I was spending the night.”
“I was betting you’d crash and burn,” Eric smirked.
“Fucker.”
Eric wasn’t my employee, but we had the same objective. He had certain skills and connections I needed besides being an overqualified driver.
“So what happened with Miss McGrath?”
“Damned Silvio entered into our conversation,” I said.
“Just as well,” Eric said. “Your presence is required at StarLite Lounge.”
I raised a brow. “Required?”
Eric chuckled. “Let me amend that. Strongly requested.”
With my frustration at how the night with Ava had turned out, seeing Roxy at the strip club might not be a bad idea. “New Jersey it is.”
Ava
“Was that who I think it was?” Robert bypassed the landing to his unit and headed straight to where I stood. Just my luck, Mads also came out of their apartment. She had Kelly with her, holding my niece by the hand.
“What’s going on?” she called.
“Yes. That’s Cesar De Lucci.” I skipped down the stairs past him, said hello to my sister-in-law, and picked up Kelly. “How are you, beautiful?”
If Cesar and I had a baby girl, she might look like Kelly. Dark hair with the most amazing skin complexion and blue eyes—a mixture of Italian and Irish. Although with my red hair it could go that way too.
Geez, would you listen to yourself, Ava?
I walked straight into their apartment and sat on the couch, holding Kelly on my lap as if she was my shield against the questions I was sure would come.
“Cesar De Lucci? As in Paulie’s brother?” Mads sat beside me, her eyes were bright with excitement. “I saw a feature on him in The New York Times business section.” Her eyes turned meaningful. “He looks …good.” And then she giggled.
“For fuck’s sake.” Robert glared at his wife.
Her eyes narrowed. “Language, Robbie.”
Callum and Ronan emerged from their room. “Hi, Aunt Ava. You missed lasagna night.”
“Bummer.” I smiled at the boys.
“Why was Cesar De Lucci here?” Robert asked not backing down.
“We had pizza at Diavolo, and he walked me home.”
“Wait.” Mads looked appalled. “He’s a billionaire and he took you for pizza. Say that’s not true.”
I shifted Kelly to my other side. She was too big to hold on my lap. “He had reservations at Le Bernardin. I had my heart set on pizza. I was starving. I didn’t want to come home and change and then go out again. I’d probably have murdered him by then,” I added under my breath. “As arrogant as he is.”
Mads just stared at me, mouth hanging open. She closed it, but then, as though unable to help herself, she sputtered, “I can’t believe you traded Le Bernardin for pizza.”
I shrugged. “Well, I did.”
“Focus, babe.” Robert scowled at his wife before turning to me. “You can’t be dating a mobster.”
“Mobster? That’s hearsay, prosecutor,” I retorted. “Show me proof.”
My brother emitted a derisive sound. “Proof? I don’t have proof, but surely you can’t be that naïve.”
“From what I saw at the party, respected businessmen from Wall Street couldn’t wait to talk to him.”
Robert gave that derisive snort again, and I wanted to chuck the book on the coffee table at his head.
“Respected? That remains to be seen. Rumors at the office state he’s elbow deep in high-stakes illegal gambling.”
I kept my face neutral. I didn’t have a problem with illegal gambling especially after hearing stories about those high rollers from dad. For many of those men, it was a status thing to be invited into a game, especially when famous personalities like actors and sports celebrities were the draw. It was also the thrill of the illegal when you were rich as sin. The loansharking at such events left a bad taste in my mouth, but people had choices.
I thought about Gorski. But what if it was an addiction?
“He cleans dirty money through those games,” my brother said.
“You know that for a fact?”
He huffed. “Why do you think he’s a valued associate of three of the biggest mafia organizations in Italy?”
I crossed my arms and leaned against the couch. “Again, I need evidentiary support.”
Robert rolled his eyes. “Rumors. Everything is rumors with them. No one wants to go on record for fear of getting whacked.”
“Are the feds interested in Cesar?”
This time it was my brother who acted nonchalant. “Sorry, can’t confirm or deny.”
I tapped my fingers on my lips, trying to figure out if my brother was just trying to spook me, but it was a moot point anyway. “If it’s any consolation, I won’t see him again.” I jumped to my feet. That last statement was hard to get out because my heart seemed to have glued to my throat. My latest encounters with Cesar had stirred conflicting but exhilarating emotions. I tried to be level headed about it. It was a crush. Nothing more.
“Why?” Mads asked. “Is he a terrible date? Did he chew with his mouth open?”
I laughed. “No. He was a perfect gentleman. Let’s just say there are issues where we don’t see eye-to-eye.”
“Well, thank fuck for that,” Robert muttered.
Callum approached his dad with the swear jar.
“Dammit,” he said, and then pressed his mouth in a straight line, dug into his wallet, and put in a dollar. “There.”
“You put in too much,” Callum said.
“Consider it credit to his account,” Mads told her son. “I have a feeling with what’s going on with your aunt, there’ll be more where that came from.”
We all laughed except Robert, who continued to scrutinize me as if he couldn’t decide whether to grill me for more information or make sure I understood Cesar was a no-go area.
“Oh my God,” Mads shrieked, startling Kelly so much my poor niece started to cry. She stopped immediately, though, when my sister-in-law picked her up and stood, rocking her while she disappeared into the kitchen. “Did you read The New York Times food section today?”
“I was in school all day and didn’t get the chance. Please tell me O’Toole’s is not on it again.”
“No,” my sister-in-law said emphatically as if I’d grown a second head. “Apparently Rose Ellis was at the De Lucci mansion Sunday night.”
“Rose Ellis? As in Rose Ellis the sneaky food critic? I didn’t see her!” I exclaimed. “And those pictures are imprinted in my brain. How did that sneaky bitch get past me?”
Mads grinned and tossed the newspaper on the coffee table, opened to the food section. Emblazoned in bold letters were “An Eamonn’s Revival?”
“Wow.” I sank into the couch and started to read.
“This still doesn’t change anything,” Robert interjected but moved behind the couch to read over my shoulder.
“Robust Irish stew with chunks of lamb that melted like velvet on the tongue paired nicely with the rich notes of a Morone Barbera…”
I wondered if that was the three-thousand-dollar bottle I gulped down.
“Italians,” Robert grumbled. “They should have gone with Guinness.”
“The pub was slammed today,” Mads told us. “Mom called the house a few hours ago hoping you were home, then I reminded her of your exams. She said you should cancel all plans after class for the rest of the week and help out at the restaurant.”
My head reared back at that. “What? I should be relaxing after instigating such an amazing coup.”
Mads laughed. “She said you started this. Might as well see it to the bitter end.”
“Some thanks I get,” I grumbled, but, inwardly, I was pleased. I even felt absolved from second guessing whether I did the right thing.
“Is there something you want to tell me, Robbie?” I teased my brother.
He one-arm hugged me and kissed my temple. “My sister is a rock star.”
“You betcha.”
