Rebel Heir (Rush Series Duet 1) - Page 29
“None taken. And believe me, I’m quite aware of that.” I sighed. “What did he do?”
“It wasn’t so much what he did…just the way he spoke to people, you know? Just my observation.”
“Yup. I know exactly what you mean.”
“Gia was telling me everything—about your inheritance. You don’t have to go into it. Very interesting story, though, to say the least.”
I turned to her. “Did you talk about anything other than me today, Gia?”
She shrugged. “Sorry. But I tell my dad everything.”
“I can see that.” I offered a slight smile so she didn’t actually think I was mad at her. I could’ve cared less what her father knew. I had nothing to hide.
The waitress came by to refill my coffee and warmed Tony’s, too.
He gulped some of it down then said, “Sounds like you’ve done the best you can with all that you’ve been given, son—the good and the bad.”
“At heart, I’m still a blue-collar guy from Long Island. I saw how hard my mother struggled. I never expected things to be handed to me. I still work hard and don’t take anything for granted.”
“Well, this poor boy from Queens finds that admirable.”
Gia interrupted, “He’s fixing my car for me, too, Dad.”
“You know your way around cars?”
“Yeah. I used to work in an auto repair shop.”
Tony seemed impressed. “No kidding…”
“He also used to be a tattoo artist,” Gia said. “I asked him if he could ink me, but he refuses.”
“Sounds like he knows you can be a little impulsive. Good call, Rush.”
I almost wished Gia’s dad were more of a dick. It would give me another good reason to stay away from her. He’d raised her all on his own and seemed to have done a hell of a job. I hated to say it, but Tony was cool as shit, the kind of man I wished I had for a father.
He looked down at his watch. “Well, as much as I’d love to stay with you, sweetheart, work beckons. I’ve got to get back to the precinct.”
Gia pouted. “Alright, Daddy. I’m glad we got to see each other.” She stood up and gave him a hug.
He held out his hand. “Rush…it was a pleasure. Stay out of trouble.” He gave me a look and for some reason that one seemed serious.
Stay out of trouble.
Translation: Stay out of Gia.Rush had asked if I was in a hurry to return to the Hamptons. Since it was my night off, I told him there was no reason I had to get back by a certain time.
After we left Ellen’s, he said he wanted to get something to eat, which was odd because we’d just spent the last hour at a diner.
Apparently, it wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to eat at the restaurant but that he had his heart set on Gray’s Papaya hot dogs. We left Gray’s with a bag full of wieners.
Rush walked and ate at the same time. “Whenever I come to the City, I just have to have one,” he said, biting into the hotdog, which was loaded with chili and cheese.
“One? You ordered ten!”
“They’re not all for me,” Rush said with his mouth full.
“Who are they for?”
“Some friends. You’ll meet them in a bit.”
Hmm. I was going to meet his friends?
He held up his hotdog. “Wanna bite?”
“I’m full, thanks.”
The sun was coming down over the City. It was a gorgeous evening.
About fifteen minutes later, we stopped at an alleyway, and I immediately figured out who his friends were. Rush had taken the bag of hotdogs to a few homeless men who were gathered in the alley with their belongings stuffed into black trash bags.
“Hey, guys.”
One of them seemed to recognize him. “Hey, Rush, man. How’s it goin’?”
“What’s good?” Rush asked, handing the entire bag over to him.
“Nothing…you know…the usual.”
“Thought you might be hungry.”
“Starving. Thank you,” the man said. “Who’s your pretty friend?”
“This is Gia.”
I waved. “Hello.”
Rush then reached into his wallet and handed the guy a one-hundred-dollar bill. “Promise me, you won’t spend it on booze.”
“You got it. I promise.”
Rush pointed his two fingers to his eyes and then back at the man. “I’m watching you, Tommy. Take care of yourself, okay?”
As we walked away, I whispered, “That was really nice of you.”
He waited until we were no longer within earshot of the men to say, “A long time ago, I decided that a good way to wash away the negativity I feel toward my family’s greed is to counter it with something charitable. I told myself every time I come to the City for an obligatory business meeting, that I’d help someone in some way before I leave. Makes me feel good.”
“That’s really commendable.”
“Nah. I have the means. I don’t even feel a dent. It would only be commendable if it were a sacrifice. Not like I’m giving anyone the shirt off my back.”
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