Deep (Pagano Family #4)(34)

Donnie ate his breakfast and then spent most of his time on his phone. Bev imagined that being a bodyguard might well be one of the most boring jobs in the history of work.

Skylar clocked in around ten-thirty, as the breakfast crowd had dwindled and only Donnie and the chief were still around. Bev was filling sugar dispensers, feeling, and trying to ignore, the effects of having bruised ribs and being the only waitress on the breakfast shift, when Sky stepped to her side, still tying on her apron.

“Hey, sweets. You look pretty good. How’re you feeling?”

Bev leaned her head over when Sky came in to kiss her cheek. “Okay. A little more sore than I expected, and tired. But okay.”

“You off at two?”

“One. Ceci’s coming in an hour early. I’m going to go talk to Chris. Bring him some pie.”

Sky began to fill the coffee machine as they talked. “He’s still been ducking your calls?”

“Yeah. Since Saturday. It’s like he’s mad at me for getting hurt.”

“I think he’s mad at you for being with somebody who got you hurt. But I haven’t seen him since Saturday, either. The bookshop’s open, so I know he’s around, but he’s definitely sulking.” She turned the prepped machine on as the front door opened. When she turned toward the dining room she asked Bev, “Bruce said that’s a bodyguard for you over there.”

“Yeah. Donnie. He’s not a problem.”

“Okay. That’s fine.” She pulled her ticket pad out of her apron. “I want to talk to you, though.” Glancing at the police chief reading the paper at the other end of the counter, she dropped her voice. “Romeo got another call from that Brian guy. He hadn’t even given them his last name or his number, but he still called him. They’re offering him a shit ton of money to work security for them. Like twice what he makes at the paper company.”

“Wow. Weird.”

“Yeah—hold on.” She went out to the new table of diners, and Bev took the last fresh pot from the other coffee machine and filled Donnie and the chief’s cups. Sky was putting a ticket on the wheel when Bev got back with the pot. Sky waved her over, keeping their distance from Chief Lumley.

“He’s thinking about talking to them. It’s so much money. And it’s just security, not…any of the other stuff they do. It’s weird. I didn’t think people could just get a job with those guys. I thought they were—I don’t know—like a gang or whatever. Or like The Godfather. You have to be initiated or whatever. And his last name is Goodweather—I mean, his mom’s half-Italian, but I thought you had to have chianti running through your veins or something.”

Bev shrugged. “Sky, I have no idea. I’ve seen The Godfather once. Mostly I remember that there was a horse head in somebody’s bed. Has Romeo ever been a bouncer or anything like that? I mean, he’s a mountain, I know, but it’s hard to see him being all mean.”

Sky leaned on the prep counter, next to the commercial toaster. “He can be mean when he needs to be. This one time, we were at the car show, and he was talking engines with some dude and I got bored and wandered off. Some guy started following me, getting really close and creepy. Then he, like, petted my hair, and I yelled and told him to back off and headed back toward Rome. He knew something was wrong before I even got all the way to him. When I told him about the guy, he…well, I don’t think that guy creeps on women much anymore.” She helped Bev put the refilled sugar dispensers on a tray. “I guess I just want to know what you know about this Nick. He’s a hot tamale, for sure. But is he a good guy?”

Was Nick a good guy? For the billionth time, Bev replayed that kiss, the way he’d controlled her, his mouth rough but yet somehow tender, his hands unyielding around her head and neck. That kiss had exceeded any fantasy she’d dared to entertain about him. But then he’d left her. As she’d stood there, burning hot and gasping for him, he’d walked away, straight out her front door, without even looking back. Because she’d asked for Good Nick, and he’d said there was no Good Nick.

But that wasn’t true. She’d seen Good Nick. She’d seen enough to know she wanted more. And there was a lot of Bad Nick she didn’t mind, either. If it had been Bad Nick kissing her, touching her, being hard for her, then she didn’t mind him at all.

What she minded—and minded very much—was being left alone that night. And ignored since. She wished she knew whether his lack of attention meant he was being noble—Good Nick—or dismissive—Bad Nick.

“Bev?”

She forced herself back to the present. “I don’t know. I think he can be a good guy. I know he can be a bad guy. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You like him, though.”

She saw no point in evading that truth, not with Skylar or herself. “Yeah. I really do. But my history with guys says that I’m not a reliable judge of character.”

Skylar huffed her discontent. “Okay. Thought I’d ask.” She squinted at Bev, as if she were trying to see something deeper. “You be careful with this guy, right?”

It didn’t seem like she needed to worry much about it, actually. She smiled a big, bright smile. “Yeah. I’m being careful.”



oOo