The Promise (The 'Burg #5)(182)



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 f**kin’ 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 f**ked 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.

Kristen Ashley's Books