That's (Not Exactly) Amore (29 page)

“I’ll come peacefully because I know this will be resolved quickly. I had nothing to do with bribing anyone.”

I can only watch dumbfounded and heartsick as Joe allows Mark to turn him around and put the cuffs on him. Joe is standing face-to-face with me when the click of the cuffs practically resonates off the walls.

I want to reach out to him. To tell him I know it’s not true. But there’s nothing I can say. Because the truth is, all my doubts are coming back.

“Let’s go,” Mark says. He looks at me and scowls. “Maybe you’ll believe me next time.”

“Laini.” Joe’s eyes bore into mine, the dark depths revealing emotions I can’t even wrap my spinning head around.

“Joe,” I whisper, silently begging him to be innocent.

His gaze sweeps over me like a caress. “Believe in me.”

Predictably, the reception breaks up after that. The good news is that my professor pretty much assures me that I did indeed pass his class. He tells me, without “telling” me, that I have nothing to worry about in terms of getting that degree. I don’t have the guts to tell him I’ve decided not to pursue the profession after all.

Nancy and I walk back to our apartment, and I have to admit I’m still broken by the image of Joe being taken away in handcuffs. I fall onto the sofa, glad to be out of my three-inch patent leathers. Nancy brings two steaming mugs of chamomile tea into the living room and hands one of them to me.

I’m on the verge of tears, and there’s no disguising it when I speak. “Wasn’t that crazy?”

“Don’t believe it.” Nancy’s tone is a mixture of anger and disbelief. “I mean it, Laini. I’ve known that guy my whole life. Joe didn’t do a thing and Mark knows it. He’s just trying to make Joe look bad so you’ll stay with him. I bet he set up this whole thing. That’s probably a phony confession.”

“I hardly think I’m enough of a catch that Mark would risk his career to frame a man just to get him out of the way.”

But Nancy is livid. She’s not even listening. “You know what makes me sick? I’m sick of prejudices against Italian families. Why is it that all the mob families in the movies and TV are Italian? I’ll tell you. Prejudice. That’s why.”

I never thought of it that way before, but it’s a point to consider.

“What about the so-called confession? And don’t say Mark framed Frank and Joe. That’s ludicrous.”

Nancy gives a snort. “Then he probably beat it out of the city hall guy. Mark’s a jerk. Living with one woman and trying to go out with you. Why don’t you think he might be capable of framing Joe?”

True, that doesn’t speak well for his moral character, does it? But still . . . and besides . . . “He sent Kellie and Kyle to live with her parents in Missouri.”

“What do you mean, he
sent
her?”

I shrug, because I’ve been thinking about that too. “Kellie couldn’t find a place she could afford around here, so her parents asked her to go back to her hometown.”

Nancy grunts out a mirthless laugh. “More likely Mark forced her out. How could a guy just get tired of a woman who has given five years of her life to him? I mean, the least he could have done was marry her.”

“I know. He came to my mom’s house last night and wants to see me again.”

She gives a cynical nod. “Now that he’s sent the other woman away.”

“Technically, I think I’m the other woman.” I take a breath. “But yeah, that’s about it.”

The buzzer goes off and I run to the door.
Please let it be Joe; please let it be . . .

“Laini?”

It’s Mark.

“If you buzz that guy in, I’ll punch you,” Nancy says.

Ignoring her, I press the button. “Stay there, Mark, I’ll be right down.”

“I’m going to take a bath,” Nancy grouses. “You’re crazy to even talk to him after what he did to Joe.”

Barefoot, I descend the stairs, step outside, and lean against the door.

Folding my arms across my chest, I give him an even look that I hope will show him how angry I am. “What happened with Joe?”

“Can’t we go inside?”

“Nancy would stab you with a knife. And she’d probably kill me too.”

A scowl twists his features. How come I never realized before how cold his blue eyes are? “I hope you believe me about that guy.”

I shake my head. “As a matter of fact, I don’t.”

His jaw drops. “What?”

“If anyone bribed a city official to get the permits, it wasn’t Joe.”

“You don’t want to believe it, that’s all.”

“You know, Mark”—I give him a pointed look and decide to get this out once and for all—“I always try to believe the best of my friends. Just like I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt when you told me about Kellie and Kyle.”

“Friends? I’d say your relationship with Joe is a little more than that.” He sneers.

“You mean like yours with Kellie?”

An unapologetic shrug lifts those massive shoulders. “She was there. I needed someone and she did too.”

“She still does.”

“I want you.” Again, an unapologetic shrug.

Does this guy have any heart at all?

“Don’t call me anymore, Mark.”

“What do you mean? You said when Kellie was gone . . .”

“I didn’t say we’d be together. I said we’d see. And we did. I don’t think we fit.”

“But you fit with Joe?”

“Joe has never been anything but a friend, but if he asks, I’ll date him.”

Mark expels a frustrated breath. He lifts his arms and drops them back to his sides. “This is what I get for trying to protect you from that family.” He shakes his head at me. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I guarantee you I will never say that.”

“Fine. And remember, you’re the one who gave up what we have between us.”

I can’t even respond. I look at this man I apparently don’t know at all.

“I’m out of here,” he says. “Oh, by the way, we released your boyfriend for lack of evidence. Charges were dropped.”

Spinning on his heel, he shoots off down the sidewalk like he’s being chased by a rabid dog.

And I sort of wish he were. The creep. Joe was right. He
is
a pig.

When Mark is out of sight, I turn to go back inside. The door won’t budge and I realize I’m not getting in without help. How could I be so stupid? I ran down without my keys or my purse. Everything is inside.

I buzz for Nancy. And buzz. And buzz again. Come on, Nance! After five minutes, I suddenly remember my roomie saying she was going to take a bath. Nancy’s an iPod girl and takes long, steamy baths. There’s no chance I’m going to get back inside that apartment for at least thirty more minutes.

A raindrop hits me. And another. And another. Great. Can tonight get any worse?

28

I
’m not sure how long I stand in the rain before I realize what Mark’s last words were. Joe was released. So, he’s probably home. What am I doing standing in the rain when I could be at Joe’s in five minutes if I run?

In a flash, I find my steps leading me away from my apartment. Moments later, I’m standing, soaked, in front of Nick’s. Of course the coffee shop (if it can really even be called that anymore) is closed. As a matter of fact, it’s not even set to reopen until Monday.

I walk around the side of the building and take a deep breath at the bottom of the steps leading up to Joe’s apartment. Slowly, I start to climb, barely paying any attention to the rain trailing down my face.

I hesitate only a second before knocking on the door. The lights are off, and after a few more knocks, I realize he hasn’t made it home yet. But I’m not going to be deterred. Lowering myself to the top step, I’m determined to dig in and wait it out. I just wonder how long he’ll be, because it’s so cold out here my teeth are chattering.

I hug my wet body trying to get warm. But a cold rain at midnight won’t allow for warmth no matter how tightly I wrap my arms around myself. I’m glad when I start shivering. Everyone knows shivering is the body’s way of warming itself. But after five minutes of shivering, I draw the conclusion that there’s something wrong with my warming mechanism.

Suddenly a shadowy figure at the bottom of the steps gives me a start. “Joe?” My teeth are chattering like crazy.

He climbs the steps. “Laini? How long have you been here?”

“I-I d-d-don’t know.”

He wraps an arm around me while he unlocks the door.

“Wh-what hap-happened?”

“First things first.” He brings me into his bedroom, where he rifles through his dresser drawers and finally pulls out a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt. “Go into the bathroom, get out of those wet things, and put these on.”

I know I should be grateful. But the first thing that crosses my mind is
What if the sweats are too small?

I guess I stand there staring at him for too long because he frowns. “Laini, do it, before I undress you myself. And believe me, watching you shiver in a wet, clingy dress is tempting enough as it is. Don’t push me.”

He isn’t even almost joking, like I would think if he said those words any other time. I guess the humiliation of being arrested in front of friends and family, being questioned at the police station, and then coming home in the rain to find a girl on your doorstep isn’t exactly the best way to draw on one’s humor.

I snatch the clothes from his hand and practically run into the bathroom.

“Good choice,” he calls after me. “For your sake.”

When I return, he’s changed into a similar outfit and is in the kitchen. “You like tea, don’t you?”

I nod, my heart thrilling that he even remembers from that night at my mom’s. He fills a kettle with water and sets it on the stove. We fall silent as he turns. There’s nothing to do but wait for the water to boil. He stares at me, his eyes clouded with defeat.

“Are you okay?” I ask softly. “Mark said the charges were dropped.”

The gentleness leaves his eyes, and anger flashes through every nerve ending. I swear if he could, he’d throw flames with those eyes. “Your boyfriend is the one that finagled all of this.”

“You mean Mark framed you and your dad?”

He scowls. “No. My dad is guilty. He’ll probably get probation and a fat fine. And it serves him right.”

“I’m sorry, Joe.”

“Don’t be. I told you I prefer to do everything by the book. My dad took matters into his own hands, and now he’ll pay for not listening to reason in the first place. I never wanted special treatment or quick paperwork. But he has a God complex and thinks he has to make things happen.” He does air quotes around “make things happen.”

“Okay, I’m not taking up for Mark, but if your dad is guilty, how can you blame Mark for orchestrating all of this?”

“He got suspicious and went digging when the permits to renovate came through so quickly. The guys he questioned all say he kept mentioning my name. Like he was leading them to finger me. When they pointed to my dad, he wouldn’t believe that I had nothing to do with it and convinced a judge to issue a warrant.”

“I’m truly sorry, Joe.”

“I tried to tell you that guy wasn’t what he pretended to be. But you wouldn’t believe me.”

I draw a deep breath. “You know what? I just had this same conversation with Mark an hour ago about you, and I’m tired of it. You act like it’s my fault you got arrested.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Your
boyfriend
thinks I have a thing for you. Otherwise, none of this would have happened. The idiot wanted me out of the way by any means possible.”

“Oh, he’s an idiot, all right. Not just for thinking you’d have a thing for me, but for thinking I’d ever have a thing for you.”

The teakettle whistles as I whip around and head for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Home!”

As I step out into the rain, I hear him rattling around trying to move the kettle and turn off the stove.

I’m so humiliated, so angry, I rush down the stairs, still barefoot, and take off toward my apartment.

“Laini, wait. Let me at least walk you home.”

“Forget it.”

“You know I’m not letting you go by yourself.” His tone is rife with annoyance, which provokes me even more.

I whip around and face him. “I don’t see why not. I’m nothing to you. You even said so.”

“When? When did I say so?” He massages the back of his neck and stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“You said Mark is an idiot for thinking you have a
thing
for me.”

“Mark
is
an idiot, but that’s not why, Laini.” He walks slowly toward me. “He’s just an idiot. For a lot of reasons. The fact is, my feelings for you are probably the only thing he was right about.”

Exasperated, I stare up at him in the dim glow of the streetlights. Rain is soaking us both, but I, for one, couldn’t care less. “You mean you do like me?”

“
Like
you?” His lips twist. “What, are we in junior high?”

I choose not to take that wrong. Instead, I nod. “I feel like I am when I get around you.”

Stepping closer still, he reaches up and pushes my kinked, soaked hair from my face. “I love your curls.”

“I spent two hours straightening them today. It wasn’t supposed to rain.”

“A waste of time.”

I nod.

“Your hair’s never looked lovelier.” He fingers a curl, caressing it. “
You’ve
never looked lovelier.”

He moves in and I lift eager lips. Is it possible that I ever kissed anyone besides this man? At the first warm touch of his mouth on mine, I’m his. Heart and soul. He has no choice. If he didn’t mean it, he never should have kissed me. Because I’ll never belong to anyone but this man. When he lifts his head I stare into his eyes.

“Don’t kiss me like that if you don’t love me, Joe Pantalone. Because I’ll never be happy being kissed by anyone else. I’ll be an old maid and live alone in my apartment with ten cats. And one day they’ll find me dead, surrounded by my starving pets. Then you’ll be sorry. You jerk.”

Joe laughs and yanks me against him. “You’re crazy, you know that? I love you,
bello
woman.”

“Did you call me beautiful?”

“You know you are. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you since the day Uncle Nick introduced us last fall.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Haven’t you noticed?”