Ruthless (The Calvettis of New York 2)

He’s not fine. He looks like he’s on the verge of passing out. Getting him to Marcy’s air-conditioned store is my best move. The cupcakes will have to wait for another day when my boss isn’t melting from the heat.

I tap my hand over his. “Let’s go.”

His fingers wrap around mine in a death grip. “No detours. We’re going straight to Empire Soaks.”

I look up and catch him staring at me. He’s flushed, but there’s more to it. I see something in his eyes I haven’t noticed before. It’s panic.

His gaze falls to the sidewalk. “Let’s get this over with. The sooner I get back to the office, the better.”

I fall in step beside him as he maneuvers through the heavy pedestrian traffic, headed for Marcy’s store with my hand still in his.

***

Ansel and Elara run at me full-force when I walk into Empire Soaks. They bypass Barrett with ease, sidestepping him to land right in my arms.

I giggle when they scream, “we missed you so much,” in unison.

Kneeling, I take them both in for a big hug. “I missed you too.”

Elara cradles my face in her small palms. “You’ll come over to play soon, right? Mommy said you’d come.”

When Marcy asked me via text if I’d stop by her apartment for playtime with the kids, I responded immediately that I’d love to. I’m going to take everything I need to make tacos for dinner once we figure out which night works best.

Letting them go, I gaze up to find Barrett staring at me. He took off his suit jacket before we walked in the door. His hair is a mess from where he repeatedly ran his hand through it. He doesn’t look anything like he did when we left the office.

I can tell he’s overwrought about something, but I have no idea what that is. He didn’t say a word to me on the walk here from the subway stop.

“Bella!” A man’s voice turns Barrett’s head toward the checkout counter.

Empire Soaks is busy. It’s filled with people carrying wire baskets containing many of the products that Marcy developed. Everything is organic-based, and I’m confident that once we spread the word, she won’t be able to keep up with the demand.

“Trey,” I call back. “You made it.”

“Is that Trey Hale?” Barrett mutters under his breath as I head across the store to the handsome man wearing a green Empire Soaks T-shirt.

I let him take me in his arms for a big bear hug. “How’s my favorite Calvetti?”

Taking a step back, I look into his brown eyes. “Marti is your favorite.”

Trey dropped into Calvetti’s for the first time two years ago when I was helping in the kitchen. It was just days after he pitched the winning game in the World Series. My grandma had no idea who he was. She still doesn’t understand that he’s one of the best major league baseball players. To her, he’s just a “sweet boy who loves spaghetti.”

“I love her,” he admits on a sigh. “She’s the best. You’re l

ucky to have her.”

I give him a knowing nod. “You should stop by to see her soon.”

“Today,” he promises with a smile. “I’m going to put in a few hours here, and then I’ll head over there.”

The sound of a throat clearing behind us lures Trey’s gaze over my shoulder. “Who’s the suit?”

“My boss.”

“Barrett Adler.” Barrett’s hand shoots out in Trey’s direction. “You’re Trey Hale.”

Trey smiles politely. “Guilty as charged. It’s good to meet you.”

When Marcy turns to look in my direction, I raise a hand to wave to her. I’m gifted with a silent, “thank you,” from her lips. Even from this distance, I can see tears welling in her eyes.