Family Ties (Morelli Family 4)

Chapter Seven

“I can’t believe this.”

Nodding my head, I say, “Good, right? I told you to get the Cuban.”

Francesca smiles, shaking her head as she picks up an ear of grilled Mexican corn from the shared plate in the center of the table. “Not the food, silly.” Indicating with her free hand around the restaurant, toward the window with the view of the sidewalk outside, she says, “All of this. Bringing me here. This is amazing. You’re amazing.”

I can’t help grinning at that as I pick up my own sandwich. I was pretty sure today would be a hit, and she doesn’t even know about the grand finale yet.

Since Francesca deserves to go out on the town but I can’t take her out in our town, I brought her to a different one. Specifically, New York. She met me at my house early this morning, no idea where we were headed, and I took her to the airport. To say she was hesitant would be a major understatement, but I told her to trust me. I guess she did, ‘cause she got on the plane with me, and ever since we landed in the Big Apple, she hasn’t stopped smiling.

When we finish our sandwiches and leave to explore the city, Francesca laces our fingers together, still glowing with pleasure. I figured she would’ve been here before, to be honest, but I guess not. She gets excited over the pretty churches, drags me into little hole-in-the-wall shops, and enjoys the flood of tourists when we hit Times Square.

As she eats the chocolate I just bought her, she jumps at a passing taxi cab, his horn blaring as he rushes by.

“Why are they so angry?”

“New York traffic. That’s just how they drive here.”

“They need to relax,” she states. “They’re in this gorgeous city, it’s a beautiful day—what do they have to be so mad about?”

I cock my head, acknowledging her side, but I add, “Well, they’re driving in this clusterfuck of a city, carting around pain in the ass tourists until dark, then they probably have to head back to a one bedroom apartment smaller than your bedroom, which they share with four roommates and pay a small fortune to live in.”

Nodding, lips pressed firmly together, she says, “Okay, maybe I’m a little out of touch.”

I crack a smile, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her close. “That’s okay; I’ll broaden your worldview.”

She smiles approvingly, leaning over to give me a quick kiss before she turns her attention back to her chocolate. “I know we’ve joked about me having more money than you, and I know it’s probably not really a joke, but you’re clearly no pauper yourself. How do you have so many more experiences than I have?”

“I like to know the people who work for me. You experience the benefits of the work your family does, but I actually do the work. I get my hands dirty, I grow my own men, I delegate, I get to know them. Your brother, for instance, he only keeps the important players close. Most of his piss-ons could probably die and he wouldn’t be able to name them. I have to invest more time getting to know everyone, but I could tell you Robbie had to pass on work last week so he could take his kid sister to the dentist because their mom’s fucking useless and she was coked out of her head god-knows-where. I could tell you Mikey’s got a new baby on the way but they don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy—and he wants it to be a little girl. I could tell you Alex’s mom just passed a week ago and he’s a mess—I also went to her funeral and paid for all the flowers. They’re all just soldiers. I don’t have to know or care about each and every one of my people, but I do anyway.”

Francesca sighs, a vulnerable fondness in her eyes when she looks over at me.

Narrowing my eyes playfully, I say, “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

She shakes her head, pulling her gaze from me to look ahead. I don’t feel like she’s really seeing the sights now, though. She’s distracted and her whole vibe feels heavier.

I grab her waist, pulling her along with me as I back up against a brick storefront, out of the flow of traffic. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I just really like you.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I point out.

Wrapping her chocolate up and dropping it into her purse, she braces her hands on my shoulders and looks into my eyes. “It is.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re gonna make me want to keep you.”

I smile, wrapping my arms back around her waist and tugging her against my body. “So keep me.”