The Promise

Chapter Twenty-Four Christmas Card List

The next morning, Benny’s phone ringing woke me and I knew it woke him when I heard him mutter, “Fuck.”

This made me smile as I was prone to smile any day I woke up next to Benny, even if he woke cursing. I felt his heat go from my back where he was spooning me. I turned with him, opening my eyes, and saw him reaching toward the nightstand to get his phone.

He got up on a forearm on the bed, put the phone to his ear, and greeted with a “Benny.”

He listened for a few seconds before he twisted his neck, his eyes coming to me, and my stomach clutched at the look in them. Then he pulled himself up to rest his back against the headboard, took the phone from his ear, hit a button on the screen, and a very attractive deep male voice came from it.

“…investigating,” the voice said. “I understand from our former clients you have copies of what they’ve uncovered and it’s their understanding it would be safer for you to pass that on to us. I’d like to ask you to go to a restaurant called Frank’s on Main Street in Brownsburg sometime today. A man named Herb will be there. You can give him the flash drives. I’ve got a man en route to Brownsburg. He’ll meet up with Herb and get the drives. We’ll take it from there.”

The voice quit talking and Ben said toward the phone, “Bud, no offense, but I do not know you. You’re a voice on the phone callin’ early on a Sunday with no warning. So I’m not givin’ anythin’ to some random guy at a restaurant.”

“I was told that you’ve been informed our services were engaged,” the voice replied.

Oh my God.

Was this the Nightingale guy?

My eyes flew to Benny and I saw his were on his phone.

“Listen,” he said. “Again, I do not know you so I’m not sayin’ dick about anything.”

“You can look us up on the Internet,” the voice replied. “Like I said, I’m Lee Nightingale. I own Nightingale Investigations. The man I’m sending is Luke Stark. He’ll be there this afternoon. We want the drives prior to his arrival so we can sort through them and set him on task without delay.”

“If you do what you do for a living and you know what’s goin’ down with this and you had your woman on the inside, would you take a phone call from a guy you don’t know and do what he tells you to do?”

There was a moment’s hesitation, then, “I see your point. Look us up on the Internet. You got an email address, give it to me. I’ll send you one and it’ll have our domain in the address.”

“Not sure that makes me feel better,” Benny stated, not knowing anything about email or that it would be quite the task to register and use a domain name just to pull one over on an unsuspecting, protective, Italian hot guy first thing on a Sunday morning.

“Then I’ll give you this to make you feel better,” Lee Nightingale returned. “We started investigating this and our clients ran out of funds. We did not like what we found so we didn’t stop investigating, even after they could no longer pay for our services. We undoubtedly have more than you, perhaps enough to lay this shit open and stop a bad drug from hittin’ the market. You got the evidence to tie that bow, we’d be obliged. More so if we could quit dickin’ around, get it, and sort it before any more hits are called. And last, do all this before Salvatore Giglia and his goons get more involved and make this mess messier and possibly take indictments off the table due to mob involvement.”

At that, I gasped quietly and Benny looked at me.

Nightingale knew about Sal.

When Ben caught my eyes, I said, “Maybe we should meet this Herb guy at Frank’s.”

“Is that Francesca Concetti?” Nightingale asked.

I looked to the phone. “Yeah.”

“You’re off assignment,” he stated instantly (and bossily). “So is everyone else. Giglia’s men took care of the hired gun on Furlock. Now you can call Giglia off. Get the drives to Herb. Tomorrow, go in. Work. We’ve got it from here.”

Excuse me?

Some random guy on the phone “has it from here?”

I leaned toward Benny’s cell and snapped, “There are a lot of people who’ve stuck their necks out for a long time who have a lot riding on this.”

“Frankie,” Ben murmured.

“They can quit stickin’ their necks out,” Nightingale returned.

“And that’s a good thing,” Benny put in.

I turned my eyes to him to see his on me and I glared.

He turned his gaze to his phone at the same time he brought it closer to his face (and further away from mine). “We’ll look you up. Send an email. In it, write something that only your clients will know. We’ll confirm that information with the clients, and if it jives, we’ll meet this Herb guy at Frank’s at one o’clock. We’re keepin’ copies of the drives. And we want direct lines to you and this Stark guy so we can stay informed about how shit is goin’, and by that, I don’t mean email.”

“Luke doesn’t do email,” Nightingale muttered, and I saw Ben give me a smug look so I rolled my eyes. “This is my personal cell,” he continued. “Text me your email address. We’ll confirm with Herb that he’s meeting you at Frank’s.”

“Right,” Ben said.

“And, heads up, Herb is…” Nightingale started, paused, and went on, “Unusual.”

I felt Ben tense as he asked, “Unusual how?”

“He’s not young. He’s not tall. He has red hair. He’s loud. He’s likely to say something inappropriate. And he’s very much from Indiana.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“That means don’t wear red because he’s from a Purdue family,” Nightingale answered.

I’d been living in Indiana less than a year, and still, I totally knew what this meant.

“Red’s out,” I murmured.

“We good?” Ben asked Nightingale.

“Yeah,” Nightingale replied. “Text the email. We’ll get you Luke’s information and you and your woman can stand down.”

Benny was not tense at that. I could tell by his face he was cautiously relieved.

“I’ll talk to Sal and do the hand-off,” Ben told him.

“Right. Thanks. This’ll be over soon.”

“Fuckin’ hope so,” Ben muttered.

“It will,” Nightingale’s deep, attractive voice said, and it did this so firmly, I believed him.

“Right,” Benny said. “Later.”

“Later,” Nightingale replied, and Benny touched the button to end the call.

He then touched more buttons, asking, “What’s your email?” I gave him my email address and his thumb moved over his screen. He must have hit send because he looked to me. “Fire up your laptop, cara.”

My eyes got squinty at the order. “Can I have a good-morning kiss first?”

“You can have a good-morning fuck—a long one, a happy one, a celebratory one—if we can pass this shit off to some PI from fuckin’ Colorado, get Sal out of it so he won’t demand we name our first son after him, and concentrate on you either gettin’ the go-ahead to work from Chicago or findin’ a job in Chicago so I can get home and take my baby with me.” He leaned toward me in order to finish, “All of this requiring you to fire up your laptop.”

“You’re grouchy when you get woken up by some PI from Colorado,” I noted.

“Yeah, seein’ as this necessitates me doin’ a bunch of shit I don’t wanna do prior to buryin’ my dick inside my woman, that happens.” When I didn’t move, just continued glaring at him, he went on, “And I get grouchier when she lies there givin’ me the evil eye instead of gettin’ her sweet ass out of bed and gettin’ her laptop.”

“I think I’ve made it relatively clear you bein’ bossy isn’t my favorite thing,” I told him.

“It is when you’re wet for me,” he returned.

It sucked, but he had a point.

And it irked me, but my choices in that moment were either to have a staring contest with Benny, continue our fight, which was kind of ridiculous, or go and get my laptop.

I decided on going to get my laptop, but as I threw the covers off me (and, thus, Benny since I intended to climb over him because his side was closer), I did it bossing.

“I’ll get my laptop and take care of the first part of the operation. You go walk Gus.”

I was climbing over him but didn’t make it when his hands curled under my arms. I let out a surprised noise as he flipped me to my back, covered me, and laid a hard, short kiss on me.

When he lifted his head, he asked, “Satisfied?”

Not hardly.

“That better be a promise of things to come,” I replied.

“When isn’t it?” he asked.

And he had another point, this one excellent.

“Stop bein’ awesome when I have shit to do.”

He grinned.

I scrunched my face at him.

That made him smile. Unfortunately, he did this rolling off me so I didn’t get the full force of it, though, this had its benefits since I could see to my business, he could see to Gus, and then he could get down to fulfilling his promise.

I got my laptop, fired it up, and brushed my teeth. Ben pulled on jeans, his tee, and running shoes, then got our dog and the leash and took off.

I got the email. Then I called Tandy to ask her to ask her friend what colors were used in “Roxie and Hank’s” wedding. I pulled on yoga pants and a cami while Tandy made her call.

Ben came back while I was making coffee. “We good?” he asked, letting Gus off the lead whereupon he waddle-galloped into the kitchen and started jumping up my calves.

I bent to pick him up, and when I had him in my arms for a squirmy cuddle, I told Benny, “Waiting for confirmation from Tandy now.”

Benny nodded and headed down the hall.

I looked down at Gus and asked, “Breakfast?”

He gave my neck a puppy kiss.

I took that as a yes and was finishing up putting clean bowls of water and food down for him when my doorbell rang.

I looked that way just as I felt Benny leave the mouth of the hall and heard him ask, “Who the fuck is that?”

“No clue,” I answered.

He kept heading to the door but did it looking at me. “I thought you couldn’t get in the complex without a code.”

“You can’t,” I confirmed.

Ben didn’t look happy as he kept walking to the door.

He opened the baby door, which was really a supercool peephole, then I heard him mutter, “Jesus.”

“What?” I called, moving to round the counter and get to the living room.

By the time I got there, the door was open and I stopped dead when I saw Sal barge in.

He did this ordering, “Call off them dogs.”

I stared at him.

“Good to see you, Sal. Wanna come in? Have some coffee?” Ben asked sarcastically as he closed the door behind him.

Sal looked at me, took me in top to toe, then greeted, “Beautiful as always, amata.” Then he turned to Benny. “Been on the road for hours, figlio. Not in the mood for your shit.”

Ben moved out of the entryway, stopped, planted his feet, and crossed his arms on his chest. Only then did he suggest, “Maybe you open with tellin’ us what got your ass on the road, we can move on from there.”

“This is my goodwill mission,” Sal stated, jerking his thumb to his chest and leaning toward Benny. “Don’t need no private dicks from the Rocky Mountain state hornin’ in.”

Oh God.

He knew about Nightingale.

This wasn’t surprising. Sal knew just about everything, and if he didn’t, he had ways of finding out. What was surprising was that he seemed proprietary about his “goodwill mission.”

“Sal, they been on this case longer than us and can do shit above board, not knockin’ people around and whackin’ ’em,” Benny pointed out.

“I’m not gonna whack anybody,” Sal snapped.

“What happened to the hit man?” Ben asked. “Or do I wanna know?”

Sal settled back and grinned. “He got an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

I started giggling.

Ben cut his eyes to me.

I pressed my lips together and stopped giggling.

Benny looked to Sal and said low, “This shit isn’t funny. We’re discussin’ a fuckin’ hit man.”

At that, Sal looked like he was starting to get mad and that made my breath start to go funny.

“Got hundreds, maybe thousands of lives on the line this drug is bad and it goes out, Benny. I am not in the business of good deeds, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know this isn’t decent work that needs to get done right. But that isn’t all it is. This is for my Frankie. Do you think I’d do anything to get her ass in a bind?”

I thought that was very sweet and it bought Sal and Gina being on my Christmas card list (and birthday card list, and maybe, if I could swing it and not make Benny’s family lose their minds, an invitation for them to our engagement party).

For some reason, Ben didn’t think it was sweet.

I knew this when he demanded, “Explain that to me.”

“Explain what?” Sal asked.

“Why you’re up in Frankie’s shit,” Ben stated. “Vinnie’s gone, Sal. She’s no longer a member of your family.”

That comment made Sal go from looking like he was about to get mad to just looking pissed.

Not good.

I made a move toward them, whispering, “Benny—” but Sal cut me off.

“She’ll always be family.”

“Explain that,” Ben repeated.

“Family never dies,” Sal returned.

“Your kind does,” Ben shot back, and in normal circumstances, this exchange would not be dangerous. This exchange might even be positive in a getting-it-all-out-there (finally), healing sort of way.

That would be if one of the people involved in the exchange wasn’t a mob boss.

“You don’t get this,” Sal clipped, his pissed-off anger sizzling in the air, “because you had what she didn’t when you were growin’ up. And if you don’t find some way to get it, then you aren’t the man for her. The man I thought you would be. She didn’t have a father growin’ up who gave a shit about her and I”—he jerked his thumb to his chest again—“get that.”

At this news—deep, heartbreaking sharing from Sal about something I never knew—my breath caught and I glued eyes to him that were suddenly stinging with tears as he kept talking.

“You had it all growin’ up, Benito Bianchi. When you don’t, you search for it and hope to Christ that search doesn’t last a lifetime, leavin’ you takin’ your last breath and knowin’ you lived a life never havin’ somethin’ you need. I get why you don’t like me. I get why you wouldn’t want me around Frankie. I also don’t give a fuck. If I can, in some way, give her a piece of what she needs, I’m gonna do it. Gina can give her her part of that, she’s gonna do it. You like it or not.”

“Sal,” I whispered, and his eyes sliced to me.

“You’re beautiful, Francesca Concetti. You got a light inside that those parents of yours couldn’t extinguish. It shines bright on Gina and me. We got girls. We understand that light. We know the privilege of havin’ it. We know the kind of person you are, givin’ it to us, even after what happened with Vinnie. You wanna keep givin’ it to us, we’ll take it. You need to take it away, we won’t like it, but we’ll live with it because we love you and that’s what you do.”

I felt a tear slide down my cheek as I stood frozen, staring at Salvatore Giglia, finally understanding after all these years why he and his wife were still on my Christmas list.

After this staring lasted a long time, huskily, I told him, “I love you too.”

“I know,” he replied quietly.

“I think you just got invited to my engagement party,” I blurted.

Sal grinned.

Benny muttered, “Christ.”

“Come here, amata,” Sal ordered.

I went there, and when I got there, the boss of a crime family folded me in his arms.

I folded him right back.

We held on to each other for a while before Ben called, “Babe.”

I kept holding on but turned wet eyes to Benny.

“I want you to have your moment, and you need more, keep takin’ it, but Sal and me gotta get this Nightingale situation straight.”

“Okay,” I replied, and Sal pulled away but not totally. He held me tucked to his side with one arm around me and I kept one arm around him as we turned to Benny.

“Call Nightingale off,” Sal demanded immediately.

“Talked to the man once. Even so, it was pretty clear he’s not the taking-orders-from-a-mob-boss-or-anyone type of guy,” Benny returned.

“Convince him,” Sal ordered.

Ben looked to the ceiling.

I tightened my arm on Sal and he looked at me.

“Maybe we should let him do what he does, seein’ as he does it for a living,” I told Sal.

“And we don’t know this guy. Maybe he’s shit at what he does, and us turnin’ this over to him means you bein’ safe now becomes you bein’ not so safe.”

I didn’t know anything about PIs, but the Nightingale Investigations website was pretty cool. It was attractive. Very male. Extremely professional. It wasn’t wordy. In fact, outside of a one sentence mission statement that was an actual mission statement, not a hokey tagline, everything was bullet points.

Then again, a good website probably didn’t make a good private investigator.

I pressed my lips together and looked to Benny.

Benny sighed before he said, “Right. We get the go-ahead from Frankie’s girl, I’ll call Nightingale. Tell him we’ll do the drop, but we want to meet his man during it so we know who we’re handing this shit over to.”

“And tell him his man will work with my men,” Sal added.

“Sal,” Benny began, “not only does this guy not strike me as a take-orders type of guy, he also doesn’t strike me as a take-on-random-partners-in-an-important-investigation type of guy, those partners being Mafia.”

“He’ll understand a good deed,” Sal replied.

“Even I don’t understand you doin’ a good deed, and I just witnessed you givin’ something to my woman that was straight-up good and clean,” Benny returned, and my heart skipped a beat as I felt Sal’s body tighten beside me.

I felt it loosen and I looked up to see him grinning a shit-eating grin as he remarked, “I think you just said somethin’ nice to me, figlio.”

“Be sure to write it in your diary,” Ben muttered as my phone rang.

I disengaged from Sal and dashed to the kitchen, Gus on my heels, thinking it was a game, and nabbed my phone.

It was Tandy.

I took the call and got confirmation that Roxie and Hank had a Christmas Eve wedding, thus their colors were green and red, something Tandy’s friend’s sister knew since she was invited.

These were the colors Nightingale put in his email.

Nightingale was on the up-and-up.

I thanked Tandy and gave this news to Sal and Ben.

The instant I did, Sal looked to Benny and ordered, “Make the call, figlio.”

Ben stared at Sal for long moments before he looked at me.

“You absolutely sure you don’t wanna work at the pizzeria?” he asked. “Shit like this does not happen at my pizzeria.”

I smiled at him.

He waited.

I kept smiling at him so he’d know that was all the answer he was going to get.

“Shit,” he muttered and reached into his back pocket to get the phone.

Gus licked my foot.

I called, “Sal, you want some coffee and a day-old donut?”

Sal turned and grinned at me.

***

We walked into Frank’s restaurant at two thirty that afternoon, the meeting pushed back so the Luke Stark guy could land at Indianapolis International Airport, get his rental, and meet us. A change in plans I understood, from listening to Benny’s side of the conversation, Lee Nightingale didn’t like all that much. A change in plans we discovered, from the instant we entered the restaurant, Lee Nightingale didn’t inform Herb of.

And Herb brought company.

We knew this when we walked in and heard a woman’s voice call out, “Yoo-hoo! Are you Frankie and Benny?”

I looked to a back table and saw an older woman with her arm up in the air, waving at us. Sitting beside her, staring at her like she was crazy, was an older, red-haired man.

Sal was with us. He had two men stationed outside the restaurant and one in a car across the street. For some reason, he was prepared for an ambush.

I really hoped Lee Nightingale truly was on the up-and-up since I didn’t want an old-fashioned café, which looked like it hadn’t changed since the early ’60s (not to mention its patrons), caught in the crossfire of whatever Sal’s brand of protection would be.

“This doesn’t give me good feelings,” Sal muttered, eyes on the waving woman as we made our way to the back table, Benny leading at the same time hauling me with him since his hand was in mine, Sal following us.

Benny stopped us by the table and declared without greeting, “It was our understanding we were meeting a Luke Stark here.”

“You are,” the red-haired man replied. “Lee told me I was out.” He jerked a thumb at the woman at his side. “But she wanted to come anyway.” He looked to her. “Just sayin’, you’re explainin’ this shit to Lee.”

She turned narrow eyes to him and admonished, “Herb, don’t say ‘shit.’”

“Woman, I’m a grown man. I’ll say ‘shit’ if I wanna say ‘shit,’” he shot back.

“It’s uncouth,” she retorted and swung a hand toward us. “We barely know these people.”

“Barely know them?” Herb returned. “We don’t know them at all.” He then looked to Benny and asked, “Do you say ‘shit?’”

Benny didn’t answer. Instead, he asked, “Where’s Stark?”

Herb didn’t answer that. He looked to Sal and asked, “Do you say ‘shit?’”

“We’re done here,” Sal decreed.

Shit.

I wanted this to work. I wanted professionals to sort all this out so no one else got hurt, and I wanted it done quickly so Benny could go home, I could go with him, and we could start a normal life (or as normal as I could be).

Therefore, I quickly stuck a hand toward the woman. “Hey. I’m Frankie.”

She smiled at me, took my hand, and replied, “I’m Trish. Roxie’s mom. Do you know Roxie?”

“No,” I told her, giving her hand a squeeze.

She looked confused, muttering, “I thought you knew Roxie.”

I pulled my hand away as Herb stated, “Not everyone on the planet knows Roxie.”

She turned her gaze to him. “Well, Herb, they know Lee. If they know Lee, they might know Hank, and if they know Hank, they’ll know Roxie.”

“Did I say we’re done here, or did I go temporarily invisible?” Sal asked.

“This is Benny, my boyfriend,” I swiftly told Herb and Trish. “And this is Sal, my, uh…uncle.”

“Howdy!” Trish cried on a wave that took in the entire front of her body.

“Someone kill me,” Herb muttered.

“This is my husband, Herb,” Trish said, jerking her head to Herb. “He’s in a bad mood because he doesn’t wanna be here. He wants to be fishing.”

“Do you wanna be here?” Herb asked Benny. “Or would you rather be fishing?”

“If by ‘fishing’ you mean being anywhere but here, then yeah,” Benny answered.

“See?” Herb asked his wife.

She ignored him and invited, “Sit down. We’ll order you some of Frank’s world famous pancakes.”

I leaned into Benny and murmured, “I could eat some pancakes.”

He didn’t even look at me as he sighed heavily, then pulled out a chair for me to plant my ass in. So I did, Benny claiming the chair next to mine.

“This is unbelievable,” Sal muttered, moving to another seat.

“You’re tellin’ me,” Herb stated. “Me and my big mouth. Tell her I got somethin’ Lee wants me to do, she thinks it’s about our daughter, Roxie. How Lee translates to Roxie, I do not know. Then she horns in, even when I say Lee doesn’t need me anymore. If God didn’t frown on it, honest to Christ, I’d consider divorce.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say,” Trish snapped.

“Are you sittin’ somewhere you don’t wanna be with people you don’t know?” Herb snapped back.

“We do know them. It’s Frankie, Benny, and Sal,” she fired back.

Herb looked at Benny. “Pay close attention. She’s beautiful, your girl. So was Trish when I met her. She ain’t hard on the eyes now, but she’s a pain in my ass.”

“Herb!” Trish cried.

“What the fuck is goin’ on here?” a deep, rough voice sounded from behind us. I turned and caught sight of lean hips and a flat stomach barely disguised by a tight black t-shirt.

I looked up and up and up and stopped breathing.

That was because there was black-haired, kick-ass-mustached man standing behind me who could be nothing but a commando.

The hottest one in the universe.

And the scariest one.

He was scowling at Herb, saying, “I thought Lee relieved you of duty.”

“He did. Trish wanted pancakes,” Herb replied.

The commando tipped his head back and looked to the ceiling. My breath returned but only to come erratically, mostly because I could see his muscled throat and the underside of his strong jaw.

Yummy.

Then he told the ceiling, “Fuck me.”

“Lucas Stark! What would your mother say?” Trish remonstrated.

He tipped his chin down and leveled his eyes on her, and at the wrathful look in them, I stopped breathing again and fought against wetting my pants.

“You Stark?” Benny asked, fortunately taking Stark’s attention off Trish, and I could feel my man coming out of his chair.

“You Bianchi?” Luke Stark asked back after an affirmative nod.

Ben didn’t answer, but he did put out a hand.

Stark took it.

“Elaine! Can we get menus?” Trish called.

“Comin’ right up,” a waitress called back.

“I take it you’re Giglia,” Stark said, and I looked to Sal to see him up and giving Stark the once-over.

Sal also didn’t confirm his identity verbally. He just said, “At least you look serious.”

I didn’t know whether to moan or whimper when Stark replied inflexibly in his rough voice, “I am. Very serious.”

It was then Stark looked to me and his features softened.

Definitely moan-worthy.

“You’re Francesca,” he stated and, luckily, I was.

I stuck out a hand. “Yeah. Frankie.”

He took my hand, gripped it not too strong, not too light, and let it go.

He then looked to Herb. “You can go now.”

“Thank God,” Herb said, immediately pushing back his chair.

“What? What do you mean?’ Trish asked. “We haven’t had pancakes.”

“We had lunch two hours ago,” Herb told her.

“Well, now I’m in the mood for pancakes,” she told him.

“Herb,” Stark growled warningly.

“Right,” Herb said, then looked to his wife. “See that guy?”

He pointed and she looked so I looked and saw he was pointing to Sal’s guy outside the window.

“And that one?” Herb went on, and I looked back at him to see he was pointing across the other side of the restaurant.

I looked over my shoulder and saw he was pointing at Sal’s other guy.

“Those guys are this guy’s guys,” Herb went on, and I looked back to see him jerking his head at Sal. “And those guys and this guy means we are now done. We’re leavin’. We’re not gettin’ pancakes. We’re getting the hell outta here.” He looked to Sal. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Sal muttered.

Herb looked to Trish. “Let’s go.”

“Oh, all right,” she mumbled. Pushing back and grabbing her purse, she stuck her hand out toward me. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” I replied, taking it for a good-bye squeeze.

More of the same for Benny and Sal, then she hustled around the table, got right into Commando Stark’s space, patted his arm, and leaned up to kiss his cheek.

The fact Stark would allow this shocked me so deeply, I gave big eyes to Benny.

Benny didn’t see my big eyes. He was looking at Herb shaking Stark’s hand and was doing this not looking happy.

Herb and Trish took their leave as Elaine slapped menus on the table, asking, “Coffee?”

“All around,” Benny ordered for everybody, probably to make her leave.

“Gotcha,” she said and hustled away.

Stark sat in Herb’s seat, back to the wall, facing us, and Benny and Sal settled back in.

“Can you assure us amateur hour is over?” Sal asked immediately.

Sal was scary, but I wasn’t sure even Sal should go head-to-head with this guy. I’d mentioned his flat stomach but not his broad shoulders or the defined, bulging biceps and chest that were straining the material of his tee so much, any movement might make it tear clean free.

An intriguing thought.

“Herb and Trish are Roxie’s parents,” Stark told him. “Roxie is Lee’s sister-in-law. She’s one of the best women I’ve ever met, a great wife, an outstanding mother. They raised her to be that way. They’re fuckin’ insane, but they’re good people. They aren’t amateur. They’re friendly. And they got nothin’ to do with Lee or his business.”

“I’d say that means yeah,” I murmured, and Stark looked at me.

His hard face, again, softened and he said quietly, “Yeah. That means yeah.”

I grinned at him.

His lips tipped up, then he looked to Benny.

Out of sheer womanly habit I took that moment to look at his hand resting on the table. There I saw a very wide, very shiny gold wedding band.

Luckily, I had the best man in the world or the sight of that band would’ve been devastating.

“You got somethin’ for me?” he asked Benny.

“Unh-unh,” Sal cut in. “Before we give you anything, we gotta get assurances you can do this right.”

Stark turned cold eyes to Sal. “I only provide references to people who’re payin’ me.”

“I only pay people who I know can get the job done right,” Sal fired back, and I held my breath as Luke Stark turned his torso Sal’s way. Which meant turning his full attention Sal’s way. Which meant only a man like Salvatore Giglia wouldn’t cower under that dark gaze.

“Then I’ll tell you, Lee does this. He finds shit he doesn’t like, like the possibility of a bad drug hittin’ the market, the company manufacturing it burying evidence that their product is harmful, and he gets interested. He’s interested. So Lee’s doin’ this, and when Lee does anything, he does it right.”

“I’m not talkin’ to Lee,” Sal pushed.

“No,” Stark growled, obviously losing patience. “You’re talkin’ to me, but when I say Lee I mean me because he put me on this. So that means it’ll be me who does this shit right.”

Sal opened his mouth, but I quickly spoke because I didn’t think it would be healthy for anyone if Luke Stark got more impatient.

“I have a question.” Stark looked to me. “Can you kick Chuck Norris’s ass?”

Luke Stark smiled, white and lazy.

My heart thumped.

“I strive to be Chuck Norris,” he replied.

I smiled back. “That’s good enough for me.” I looked to Benny. “Give him the drives, baby.”

Ben obviously liked the look of Stark too because he shifted to push his hand in his pocket when Sal said, “Hang on.”

That was when Ben stopped shifting and looked to Sal.

“Look at this guy,” he ordered.

Sal didn’t look at Stark. He scowled at Benny.

“Fuck, Sal, I don’t even have to see him in action to know this guy could successfully execute a one-man coup on a small South American country,” Benny stated.

I giggled.

Sal turned his scowl to me. “This is serious, Francesca.”

“Does Mr. Stark look like a comedian to you, Sal?” I asked, jerking my head Stark’s way.

Sal looked to Stark. “Who protects Frankie?”

Stark’s brows drew together and he looked to Benny. “I thought you were her man.”

“I am,” Ben confirmed.

“You need assistance with that?” Stark asked.

“Fuck no.”

Stark took him in, torso to hair, and said, “Didn’t think so.”

Nice. A compliment from a commando.

I kicked Benny’s shoe with my sandal.

Ben looked to me and shook his head.

I grinned at him and looked back toward the table.

Stark turned his eyes to Sal. “Any more problems?”

“When’s this gonna be done?” Sal asked.

“Depends what’s on the drives. It’s good, Tuesday,” Stark answered, and Sal’s brows shot up.

“You can say that? Tuesday?”

“I can say that. Tuesday,” Stark repeated firmly.

“That soon?” Sal asked.

“We haven’t been fuckin’ around,” Stark told him. “We got three nurses who are ready to be deposed. They got data. And we got a lock on five patients who, if they knew why their hearts were fucked up, which they will, would be callin’ their attorneys. Somethin’ I can assure you they’ll be doin’ on Tuesday.”

I leaned into the table, and as I did it, Stark caught my movement and turned his dark eyes to me. Dark eyes I just noticed were blue, they were that dark.

Amazing.

“The lead scientist on the project, who’s dead now, his original documents are on the drives,” I shared.

“Excellent,” Stark replied.

Ben shifted again to push his hand into his jeans pocket.

Elaine came with a tray full of coffee mugs and a thermal pot, all of which she put on the table.

“I know it’s nearly three, but it’s also Sunday and, just sayin’, you’d be fools if you didn’t have Frank’s pancakes on Sunday,” she declared.

“Blueberries in mine,” Stark said, taking the drives Ben slid across the table toward him.

“You got time for blueberry pancakes?” Sal asked irritably.

“There’s always time for blueberry pancakes,” Stark replied casually.

I leaned into Benny and whispered, “I like this guy.”

Ben looked to me and, again, shook his head.

I looked to Elaine. “Can I have blueberries in mine too?” I asked.

“Live it up,” Elaine answered, which I guessed meant yes.

“Jesus,” Sal muttered.

“No blueberries for me, but lots of syrup,” Benny ordered, leaning back and hooking an arm on the back of my chair.

Job done. He could tell by looking at Stark he could trust him. Now all he had to do was keep an eye on me and feel relief. I could tell all this by the vibe he was giving me.

And it made me happy so I leaned sideways and collided with him.

He curled a hand around my shoulder.

“Christ, I’ll take blueberries too,” Sal said.

I looked up at Benny and grinned.

He dipped his head and touched his mouth to mine.

After I got that bit of goodness, I turned away, reached for my coffee, and looked at Stark.

“Is your wife a commando too?”

Another lip tip before, “She’s a graphic designer.”

“Does she design logos for commando gear?” I asked.

The lip tip tipped higher. “No.”

I kept at him. “Is she the mother of a tribe of mini-commandos?”

He shook his head but a light hit his eyes, a light that hit me right in the heart and warmed it.

“So far, all girls.”

At his words and the way he said them, I knew what that light meant. I knew it meant when his daughters got to certain age and looked in the mirror, they’d see pure beauty. I figured with the way he looked, his wife was probably hot too, so it wouldn’t be a stretch that their girls would be beauties.

But that wasn’t the beauty they’d see.

They’d see the beauty that came from looking at themselves through their father’s eyes.

Behind a sip of coffee, I hid the feelings these thoughts made me feel. Feelings that, if I let them free, might mean I’d burst into tears. As I sipped, Sal’s words from earlier came to me.

Then Benny’s words from yesterday came to me.

And suddenly, I wanted to rush into the bathroom and look in the mirror.

But I knew what I’d see.

So, Mrs. Zambino was no dummy.

I already knew that.

What I was looking forward to was getting home to Chicago, walking across the street, and sharing with her the face I would now see.

She wouldn’t be surprised.

She’d already seen it.

Repeatedly.

***

I stood, hand to counter, undoing the straps on my sandals after Ben and I got home, leashed up Gus, took him on a walk, then got back.

Benny unleashed Gus and then directly slanted onto the couch, reaching for the remote, laying evidence that he was possibly preparing for a delayed pancake coma.

The pancakes were good. And I liked Luke Stark even better when he wasn’t being scary but was instead being casually badass and also friendly.

But for me, I was just glad all this would soon be over and we could turn our minds to better things.

Like picking tile and kitchen towels.

Once I got my shoes off, I wandered to Benny and saw him watching me. That meant he was prepared so I didn’t hesitate in collapsing on top of him.

He braced for impact, took it, and wrapped his arms around me.

I shifted mine so they were on his chest and looked into his eyes. “You liked the look of Stark,” I decreed.

“Not as much as you, but yeah,” he replied, and I tipped my head to the side.

“What do you mean, not as much as me?”

His lips twitched before he said, “Babe, you were practically drooling.”

Uh-oh. Benny caught that.

“Well…” I started, then stopped because I had no clue what to say or why Benny’s lips were twitching and he wasn’t flying into a possessive, Italian hot guy jealous rage.

“He liked the look of you too,” Benny noted.

I felt my brows shoot up. “He did?”

“Oh yeah,” Ben stated.

“How do you know?” I asked, intrigued, even though I knew I shouldn’t be.

Benny weirdly didn’t hesitate with his answer.

“He wanted to be sittin’ at a table with Sal like he wanted someone to pull out all of his teeth. He was puttin’ up with Sal because he caught sight of you and knows you might possibly be in danger. He also knows Sal’s on that so you mean somethin’ to Sal and Sal means somethin’ to you. He didn’t show him a lot of respect, but he showed him more than he normally would and he did that because of you. He thought you are what you are, beautiful and funny. Man like him doesn’t go soft for some hard bitch or just anybody. He goes soft for a beautiful woman who’s funny.”

“But he’s married.”

“He’s married, but he isn’t dead.”

“I think he’s very married,” I informed him.

“Definitely,” Benny agreed. “Man wears that obvious of a wedding band because he’s weak and let his wife pick the rings or because he’s seriously in love with his wife. There’s nothin’ weak about that man.”

This was true.

“Aren’t you…I mean, he was attractive and you caught that I caught that. Aren’t you pissed?”

“Babe, you’re mine, but you aren’t dead either. It’s not like just because you’re bangin’ me you’re not gonna see guys you don’t like to see.”

“That doesn’t upset you?” I asked.

“You gonna bang ’em?” he asked back.

“No,” I replied sharply.

That got me a grin and, “Then why would it upset me?”

“But you didn’t like the idea of me being Cheryl’s wingman.”

“You likin’ the look of a guy who’s very married and doin’ that sittin’ next to me is one thing. You out with one of your girls, my ring not yet on your finger, for any guy to get an eyeful and maybe call up the courage to approach is another.”

“I wouldn’t bang any of them either,” I pointed out.

“You like the idea of some woman approachin’ me when you’re not around?” he asked.

I saw his point so I pressed my lips together.

His eyes dropped to my mouth, and when they came back to mine, they were lit with humor.

I understood that part, but I didn’t trust the earlier part and I told him why.

“So, you’re cool with this so I’ll be cool with you lookin’ at pretty women while you’re with me?”

“I’m not dead, either, babe. And I might see a pretty woman, but even if I do, I’m not doin’ my job if you don’t know down to your gut there’s nothin’ I see that’s as beautiful as what I see in you.”

God.

Benny.

I liked his words so much, I couldn’t stop my head from dropping so my forehead was on his throat, and that was where I kept it in order to deep breathe and not burst into tears.

Ben glided a hand up my spine and curled it around the back of my neck before he murmured into the top of my hair, “See I scored with that.”

“Sometimes your sweet overwhelms me,” I admitted to his throat.

“Challenge accepted.”

I lifted my head and looked at him again. “What?”

He looked into my eyes. “Challenge accepted, findin’ ways to give you a lifetime of just that.”

I could deep breathe for eternity and not stop the tears that wet my eyes at that.

“You just did it again,” I whispered.

He smiled and whispered back, “Good.”

I looked to his smile, then back to his eyes that were warm and tender and beautiful and also smiling and kept whispering, “And again.”

He slid his hand into my hair and replied, “Babe, you feel all I see you feelin’, don’t put it into tears. Kiss me.”

My Benny.

So wise.

That was a much better idea.

So I didn’t cry.

I shifted up and kissed him.

Ben shifted us on the couch so he was on top and kissed me back.

Then he banged me.

After that, Ben held me close and I snoozed off my pancakes while he watched the game.

***

Later, we made dinner together and watched movie.

And later, before heading to bed, I stood in the bathroom, wearing my nightie, and stared at myself in the mirror.

I saw what I always saw, but it was different.

It was a person who inspired love and loyalty and protection. It was a person who got this because she gave it back. It was the person I’d always been but never seen.

She was beautiful.

My eyes shifted from my reflection to watch Benny, wearing nothing but light blue pajama bottoms, approach me.

He watched me in the mirror as he made his approach but lost sight of me when he fitted his front to my back and wrapped his arms around my middle, burying his face in my neck.

“You okay?” he asked the skin of my neck.

I slid my hands over his arms and held him there, answering, “Yeah.”

He gave me a squeeze and murmured, “Come to bed.”

One more promise that day for Benny to fulfill.

“Okay, baby,” I whispered.

It was then that I got to experience the second best part of the day. Or it might be tied for first. Making love with and then going to sleep beside Benny Bianchi. Hearing his deep and easy voice saying good-night to me. Making me fall into a peaceful sleep, knowing that tomorrow, I’d wake up to Benny and all the amazing promises he would keep.