Code of Honor (Spontagio Family 1)

“Okay. You go and spend time with Lucia. Make sure she’s looking after herself, yes?”

I throw a few changes of clothes into a suitcase, getting ready for my “big trip” to see Lucy when it hits me I arranged a date with Stefanni for tonight.

“Shit,” I mutter. We’ve been out once, and while she’s a great girl, I’m just not interested in anything other than friendship. I thought I could force myself to move on from Lucy, but I can’t. And it’s not fair to Stefanni for me to lead her on.

Pulling out my phone, I find her number and press CALL. I have no idea how she’s going to take my rejection, but I hope she understands.

“Hello,” she answers, her voice upbeat and happy.

“Hey, Stefanni,” I say, wincing as I try to form the words in my head. I’ve never been good at ending things with women.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t meet you tonight.”

“Is everything okay?” she asks.

“I want to be completely honest with you,” I begin. “I’m not ready for a relationship. I thought I was, but all I’m going to end up doing is hurting you, and I don’t want to do that.”

“Oh,” she replies, her voice soft. “Okay, well, thanks for the call. Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“I’d like that,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief. I hang up feeling a thousand times better. She took it well, much better than I thought she would.

I check my email and see two emails waiting from Lucca. I purposely didn’t give him my phone number because I want the least connection between the two of us possible. Giovanni isn’t even entering my thoughts. It’s the people on this guy’s end that I’m worried about. Call me paranoid, but all he needs to do is stir the wrong pot and we both go down.

I open the first email and read through it. It’s just an update explaining he has a few leads that he’s following. I open the second, noting it was sent only half an hour after the first.

Pietro,

This may be nothing, but does the name Louis Gambero mean anything to you? Maybe an associate o

f your father?

Lucca

Gambero. I rack my brain, trying to make a connection, but nothing comes to me. My father had many associates, and most of them I didn’t know by name. I email Lucca back and then close my computer when I catch sight of the time. I need to get ready. It’s four thirty now, and I need to meet Lucy at five.

At five to, I grab my things and go. I’ve timed it well. It’s only a few minutes after five when I knock on her door. She opens it, looking surprised to see me.

“I’ve been trying to call you,” she says, her expression concerned. “I finished a little early so I decided to surprise you at the airport. Only you weren’t on the plane. I had them check the one before too, just in case you got in earlier.”

Thinking on my feet, I nod. “You should’ve called me. I got in last night and caught up with an old friend. We had a few too many drinks so I stayed at his house.”

“I did try calling. It kept going to voicemail.”

Confused, I reach into my pocket for my phone and see that it’s now completely flat. Shit. Good thing I remembered to pack my charger. I hold my breath as she takes my hand and tugs me inside. My heart pounds as adrenaline pulses through my veins. That was so close. Too fucking close.

“Anyway, welcome to New York. It’s so great to see you,” she says, throwing her arms around my neck. My body stiffens as I focus on everything that is her; the way her fingers are grazing the back of my neck, the soft scent of her shampoo, the feel of her skin as her cheek rubs against mine. I pull away, not letting her hand go.

“So,” I say, almost afraid to ask the question. “Did you make it?”

“They’re letting us all know tomorrow. I’ll get a call between nine a.m. and eight p.m.”

I wince. Harsh, making them wait all day. I’ll just have to do my best to distract her for the day.

Picking up my bags, I carry them inside and place them on the floor while she closes the door. She motions for me to sit down.

“Do you want a drink?” she asks, opening the fridge. “I don’t have much. I haven’t been shopping in ages,” she adds with an embarrassed laugh.

“Whatever you have is good.” She pours two glasses of diet soda and sets one in front of me. There’s a nervous energy between us that is more intense than it’s ever been. Not being in the same room with her—or at least not speaking to her—has made things different between us. She lets out a nervous giggle and then blushes, covering her face with her hands.