66

Sophie
The next morning, Joey makes me an omelet for breakfast, and I choke it down with toast and juice, skipping the morning coffee.
Now that I know I’m pregnant, I’m working harder to keep food in my system. When I thought it was a stomach bug, I figured the less food I ate, the better. But not when I’m eating for two.
“You up for a drive?” Joey asks.
Considering he already canceled all my appointments for the day and I’m not sick, I nod. “Sure.” A drive is low-effort.
Joey is Mr. Attentive, not that he isn’t always, but now especially. Holding the door to the apartment and the car. Keeping a hand on my lower back. Making me feel like a pampered princess.
It’s amazing. I’ve never been treated so well in my life, and it’s taking on fairy-tale-like proportions. In the back of my head, I know there’s stuff I haven’t looked at.
I mean, how well do I really know Joey? And I still have major concerns about the Family.
But after the shock of finding out I’m pregnant, I’m clinging to his strength right now. His surety. I’m in rough waters, and he’s the lighthouse beacon showing me the way to terra firma. He makes me trust all those concerns can be worked out.
As if he reads my mind, when he climbs behind the wheel and starts the car, he says, “I want to make you every promise in the world right now.”
I can hardly speak from the rush of emotion that makes my eyes and nose burn.
“I’m sure you’re freaking out. It’s a lot, right?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“I know. Whatever you need from me, I’m going to give it to you. I want you to know that, bella.”
Part of mea terrible, small, mean partwants to ask him to leave his family.
But that’s not fair. I need to forget all my bitterness toward La Cosa Nostra. My entire past. All the pain and resentment and anger toward Joey’s family.
I want to believe in the perfect future he’s offering me. The stable, sweet, loving family we’re going to create.
Still, I can’t stop the thoughts in my head from spilling out of my mouth. “Do you like it? Your role in la famiglia?”
Joey’s brows shoot up. His hands tighten on the wheel. He doesn’t answer for a moment, and I have to hold a sense of dread at bay. A fear that we’ll never work this issue out between us. “Honestly? No.” He turns to look at me, and when he does, I see a haunted quality in his eyes. “I hate it.”
My breath catches. Relief pours in. Maybe we’re not so different. “You do?”
He nods. “I didn’t ask to be the crown prince.” His lips twist with distaste. “They sent me to college to be the numbers guy. I don’t want to run the club or be anyone’s boss. I don’t want to be the guy Al sends out to intimidate our competition when they move into our territory.”
I blink back tears for him. “But you have to?” I whisper.
“I don’t know. Do I? This is the question I ask myself. Al has Carlo now, and Carlo’s more suited to this lifestyle.” Joey looks over at me, and I see a flash of uncertainty that makes my chest tighten. “Could I abdicate my throne? Take a step back from the organization?”
Hope sings in my chest. Just the fact that Joey wants to take a step back is enough for me.
It’s something we could build on. Common ground.
Maybe having a baby will help Joey clarify his priorities and make the changes he wants to make for himself, not just for us.
“Maybe everyone would be happy with a new arrangement.”
Joey’s brows go down. “Yeah. Sammy, too. He works under me at the bar, but it’s really his baby. I think he hates that he answers to me and thinks I don’t deserve that power over him.” Joey shakes his head. “I shouldn’t talk business with you. Keep this between us, okay?”
I bob my head, even more warmed. It’s not that I wanted to be included, but I think the layer of secrecy lends to more paranoia on my part. “Of course.”
We’ve been driving for a while, and I realize we’re on the same route Joey drove me the day of my dad’s funeral. I stay quiet but wait to see, and sure enough, he pulls off at the same beach.
I send him a quizzical glance, and he shrugs. “It seemed like the right place to go.” We climb out of the car and take off our shoes when we get to the sand. Joey holds both pairs in one hand and clasps mine with his other.
“This was our beginning. Not romantically, but it was a connection. That was the day you said goodbye to your dad.”
I stop and look out at the water, remembering how I’d needed to go out into it, to wash off my grief. It had been a baptism of sorts.
“Today’s another beginning.” Joey stands behind me and wraps his free arm around me, his hand splaying across my abdomen. He kisses my neck. “We say goodbye to our single, child-free lives. We become a family.”
His murmur in my ear is sweeter that the lull of the ocean waves. Sexier than the hottest scene I could imagine.
I turn and grip his face, pulling his mouth to mine. I kiss him frantically. Madly. Passionately. My tongue tangles with his, my arms loop around his neck.
When we break apart, his smile beams warmer than the sun. “Let’s go find you a ring.”
Joey
I pull up on the top level of the parking garage and turn off the engine. There’s only one other car up here, which is exactly why I selected this location as the meetup.
I grab a fat envelope of cash and get out. The door of the Toyota Camry swings open, and a man in a suit climbs out.
Ned Burton, my FBI contact.
We meet at one of the pillars of the parking structure. I position my back against it, so I’m covered from behind and have a view of the entrance. Ned’s gaze sweeps the place, too.
“Thanks for your help with the Manghini Construction thing,” I say. A few months back, both the Feds and the IRS were digging into Bobby’s company, looking for payouts to the mayor and signs of money laundering.
Because Bobby and I are both damn good at what we do, they didn’t turn up anything.
Still, the heads’ up I got from Ned kept us one step ahead or at least prepared for the shit show that went down.
Ned nods. “So, Stan Matranga moved to Jersey. Was that a shot across the bow?”
I tip my head and consider. “Seems like it. I was hoping you had some information.”
“Not much. They seem to be expanding in several directions, though. Word is, their meth production just went way up. But your outfit doesn’t run drugs, does it?” He narrows his eyes at me.
I shake my head. “No. But the New Jersey dealers give us a taste.”
“So maybe they want to take over distribution in your state and cut you out.”
“Possibly. That’s all you have?”
Ned shrugs. “That’s it.”
I hand over the envelope, even though he hardly earned it this time.
He tucks it in the inside pocket of his jacket without counting. “Preciate doing business with you.”
“I want more on the Matrangas. Everything you’ve got.”
“You know I can’t do that. But I’ll see what information I can part with.”
“Everything you’ve got,” I repeat. “Earn your fucking keep.”
Ned cracks a half-smile. “I’m no use to you if I lose my job.” He walks back to his car without saying goodbye.
I grunt because he’s right.
I hate not knowing the full picture, though. What’s going on with the Matrangas. If I’m going to advise Al on the situation, I need more facts.
I climb in my car and text Al to meet me at Angelo’s.