“So is Ma doing this for Sadie’s benefit?”
“No, I think it has something to do with Mrs. Tortelli’s heart attack. She’s been acting weird ever since the funeral; you just didn’t notice because you’re not up here. It’s like she’s determined to make sure all of her kids are settled down and in a good place before she shuffles off the mortal coil.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“Hey, I never said it was rational. Just be glad you’re down there and don’t have to deal with this crap every day.”
A sympathetic shudder went through him. “That bad?”
“No, I’m just making shit up,” Steph said, the sarcasm in her voice unmistakable. “She tried to set me up with Dickie Lewis last week.”
It took a few seconds for Pinto to put a face to the name. “You mean Dickie the Bear?”
“The one and only.”
Back in high school, Dickie got that name because of his massive build, and the fact he was hairier than Chewbacca. It was rumored the guy started shaving in the fourth grade. Well over six feet, he had the face of a street brawler, and it hadn’t surprised anyone when he went to work as an enforcer for the Moreno family. By most accounts, he excelled at his job.
Pinto paused on a channel airing an old Will Smith action movie, realized there were only ten or fifteen minutes left, and resumed flipping. “Why on earth would Ma think he’d be a good match for you?”
“He helped her load her groceries into the car. She said he was very respectful.” The last part was said in a perfect mimic of their mother’s nasal voice.
Pinto couldn’t resist yanking her chain. “You know, not for nothing, but Dickie could handle your problems with Leo.”
He could practically hear Steph’s eyeroll. “Thanks, but I prefer men whose knuckles don’t drag on the ground. Besides, if he snaps Leo’s spine, I can kiss any future child support goodbye.”
“Your choice.” Pinto moved the phone to his other ear. “So, on a scale of one to ten, how bad is Ma going to be when she gets here?”
“It depends on how serious you are about that girl.”
He briefly entertained the notion of letting Steph in on the ruse, but his sister had a long history of unintentionally spilling the beans at the worst possible moment. She’d been like that since they were kids. So, instead, he went with what he hoped passed for heartfelt emotion. “She’s a damn good woman, Steph. I like her a lot. I think you’ll like her too.”
“What I think doesn’t matter. If Ma’s not convinced you’re one step from popping the question, she’ll be handing out your number to every unmarried woman she meets while she’s down there.”
Chapter 8
“Okay,letmeseeif I’ve got this straight.” Liz reduced the speed on her treadmill from a jog to a fast walk, and Fiona quickly followed suit. Outside, rain pelted the windows, which was why they’d skipped the hiking trail and were using the fitness center at their apartment complex instead. “You went to Hot Guy’s place, where he fed you delicious, homemade lasagna—bonus points, by the way, because he knows how to cook—and you polished off a whole bottle of wine.”
“I didn’t drink it all by myself,” Fiona said between gulps of air, too winded to sound defensive. It had been over a week since her last workout, and she made a mental promise to exercise on a more regular basis. “I’m pretty sure Joe drank more of it than I did. And we drank it over the space of two and a half hours. I didn’t even get a buzz.”
The skepticism on Liz’s face said it all. “So you ate the food, drank the wine, talked for hours, had a great time, and then he kissed the living daylights out of you when he walked you to your apartment. But it wasn’t a real date, and this isn’t a real relationship.”
“Exactly.” Fiona poured more enthusiasm into her response than the situation warranted, mostly to convince herself that the kiss hadn’t been a big deal. Because it wasn’t. Really. There wasn’t any point in reading things into it that weren’t actually there. It didn’t matter how amazing it felt, or how close she’d come to inviting him into her apartment, because everything about their relationship was smoke and mirrors. “Like I said, it’s just a business arrangement. He gets what he wants, I get what I want, and neither of us has to worry about messy entanglements.”
“What about sex?”
Leave it to Liz to cut to the chase.
A flare of heat zipped through Fiona’s body that had nothing to do with the treadmill. Her gaze cut to the guy using the leg press at the other side of the room. As far as she could tell, he couldn’t hear their conversation because of the buds in his ears, but she lowered her voice anyway. “That isn’t part of the deal.”
Liz shook her head in disapproval. “Sounds like a raw deal to me.”
Fiona chugged some water and tucked the bottle back into the little holder by the screen of her treadmill. “Sex would only complicate things. Can you imagine how weird things would be if we took that step and things didn’t work out? Talk about awkward.”
“Now, you see there? That’s your problem.” Liz pointed an accusing finger at Fiona. “Instead of thinking about how great it could be, your mind went straight to a worst-case scenario.”
“That’s because my last relationshipwasa worst-case scenario. I’d rather learn from history than repeat it. Besides, I’m not ready for that yet.” There was more to it than that, but she wasn’t prepared to admit out loud that she no longer trusted her instincts when it came to men. What if the next one was even worse than Dennis? If given the choice, she’d much rather spend her free time with her cat than get suckered in by another controlling jerk masquerading as a nice guy.
“And when exactly will you be ready?” Empathy softened Liz’s features. “Sweetheart, I’m not trying to be hard on you, but you’re a grown-ass woman in the prime of her life. You’re smart, funny, loyal, and you have needs—hot, sweaty needs. And let’s be real; orgasms are right up there with sleep, exercise, and a well-balanced diet.”
