The Promise (The 'Burg #5)(83)

Your life depended on it.

I got to the end of the book, turned to the closet, and grabbed my dress and shoes. I took them to the bathroom, put them on, accessorized, re-sprayed my hair, and spritzed with perfume.

Done with that, as quietly as I could, I packed up the bathroom. Going out to grab my suitcase, I carried it in the bathroom and went back out to grab my clothes. I took those in. I packed. And not using the rollers because it would be noisy, I carried it back out and set it by the door.

I walked to the bed, again taking in all that was Benny Bianchi lying in it, and nabbed my phone. I walked back to the closet to get my blazer. I grabbed it, shrugged it on, pulled my hair out of the collar, then got my light trench from where I’d thrown it on a chair, my purse, the keycard, and my computer bag. I walked to the door, put out the “do not disturb” sign, and walked down the hall toward the elevators in order to go to the registration desk to check out.

In other words, when that book flipped in front of me, I’d found my line.

* * * * *

I went to Ben’s name on my phone and hit the button to connect.

I put the phone to my ear and waited. It rang several times, and I knew it did this because Ben’s jeans were in the bathroom. It also went to voicemail.

Too far away to hear.

I should have thought to put his phone on the nightstand.

I didn’t think of that so I disconnected, searched for the hotel on Safari, found it, and connected.

“The Belvedere, how can we help you today?”

“Can you ring me up to room four thirteen?”

“Of course. One moment.”

I heard nothing. Then I heard clicks. Finally I heard rings.

“’Lo?” Ben’s drowsy voice said.

“It’s your friendly wake-up call,” I stated chirpily. “Time to get your ass out of bed and out of that room or I’ll have to pay for an extra day.”

“Baby.” Now his voice was drowsy and amused.

I liked the drowsy and amused so I went for more.

“Of course, I wouldn’t be paying for it, my company would, but momma don’t play that way with her employers.”

I only had amused—rumbling deep amused—when he asked, “Momma don’t play that way?”

“Yep,” I answered.

“Baby, there are a lotta things you are, but street is not one of them.”

“I can totally do street.”

“You could, if your dad was not Italian but African American. That not bein’ the case, you cannot.”

“Are we gonna squabble about whether I can do street or not?” I asked.

“No, seein’ as I gotta get my ass outta this bed before your company has to pay the extra day you won’t be usin’ this room so we don’t have time since that’ll take a year.”

“Right then, to finish that particular discussion, I can so do street.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, but it still rumbled with amusement.

“Okay, I gotta get to a meeting.”

“Cara.”

At his sudden change in tone, I stopped dead, standing in the hallway of a medical office building.

“What?” I whispered.

“Bag packed, by the door.”

My heart tripped, but my mouth spewed attitude. “Well, I’m not trustin’ you to pack for me. You’d totally f**k it up.”

“There is no way to f**k up packing, Frankie. You toss the shit in, close the case. It zips, you’ve succeeded.”

“Ben, just the idea of tossing my stuff in a suitcase without folding or strategizing placement gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Then it’s good you packed.”

“I know.”

“No, Francesca.” His voice was deep and not easy, but low and heavy with meaning. “It’s good you packed.”

My voice was not easy, but quiet and also heavy with meaning when I replied, “I know.”

He was silent a second, maybe letting that sink in, before he asked, “You got a guesstimate when you’re gonna be at my place?”

“With the way my day is planned, maybe I should come to the restaurant, get the keys, go to your place, and see you when you’re off.”

This I had thought about in the last several hours since leaving Benny. These were not good thoughts, primarily because everyone likely knew I’d bailed on him, and although his family seemed to be playing Switzerland with that, others might not. And when it came to the pizzeria, those others could be there.

They were also not good thoughts because Benny worked late and I wanted to see him, but I also needed sleep.

Maybe I’d nap while he was at the restaurant.

“Uh…honey, you came back to me. I’m not workin’ tonight,” Benny said, cutting into my thoughts.

“You’re callin’ in Vinnie Senior?” I asked, not certain how I felt about that either because it would mean there would be little delay in the Bianchis knowing I was back.

“No. Manny can cover the kitchen for a day or two. He does it sometimes when I got a day off and he doesn’t f**k up my kitchen when he does it. Long haul, though, Man doesn’t have it in him. It’s gotta be Pop.”

I found that interesting.

I didn’t have the time to find out why that was interesting.