Stumbling into Love
Page 22

“Yes, Mom.” She rolls her eyes. “Plus, I’ve been tucking away the extra money I’ve been making at Tony’s the last couple weeks.”
“How’s it been, working there?”
Ever since the day I told Libby about Tony being in the hospital and Antonio needing help at the pizza parlor, she’s been going in a few days a week to help out with waiting tables and answering the phone. Antonio said they didn’t need help, but she went above his head and talked to his mom about it. I’ve also gone in a couple of times to pitch in, but Libby seems to have it under control. Mrs. Moretti adores her, which I think annoys the crap out of Antonio.
“It’s fine.” She shrugs, then fiddles with her hair.
That’s something she’s done since she was little—whenever she’s not telling the truth.
“Just fine?” I narrow my eyes at her, and she shifts in her seat.
“Just fine.”
“Is Antonio being nice to you?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes at the mention of his name.
“He’s being himself.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means he’s constantly complaining about my shoes, my clothes, and the fact that I wear makeup.”
“Don’t let him get to you.”
“I won’t,” she says, but I can tell by the set of her shoulders that his opinion bugs her.
“I’m sorry that he’s being a jerk.”
“Don’t be. His opinion of me doesn’t matter.” She waves my comment away. “I like his mom, and his dad is very sweet. So he can suck it.” She stands up. “I’m going to take a bath then watch a movie. Do you want to watch a scary one with me?”
“I’ll make popcorn,” I answer.
Watching her walk off toward our bedroom, I can’t help but wonder what the hell is going on between her and Antonio. Her reaction was not normal. They have always bickered, but now I wonder if there isn’t a little bit of attraction between them.
My cell phone starts to ring, and I lean forward and grab it off the coffee table.
It’s Wesley. “Hey,” I answer when I put it to my ear.
“Hey.”
“Did you get your mom and Peter settled?” I ask as I relax back against the couch. Tucking my feet under me, I pull a blanket over my lap and get comfortable.
“Yeah. Now I’m heading to the station to meet Levi. We have to work for a few hours.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, just work,” he answers.
I know by his tone that he’s not going to say anything more about it.
“I miss you,” I say.
There’s silence on the other end.
“Do you?” he asks after a moment.
I can hear the smile in his voice, which just makes me miss him even more.
“Yeah.”
“I miss you, too.”
“That makes me feel a little less crazy,” I admit, smiling, then smiling wider when he laughs.
“My mom is crazy about you.”
“She is?”
“She is. I knew she would be. She said that she loves you for me. That she couldn’t have chosen better herself.”
“That’s good, right?” I ask, feeling hopeful.
“That’s better than good. She’s looking forward to meeting your family on Christmas.”
“Oh.” I deflate, slumping back into the couch. “Let’s not get our hopes up, then. You and I both know that my family is crazy. She might change her mind about me after meeting them.”
“It will be fine.” He laughs, then I hear a car door slam.
“Did you just get to work?”
“Yeah, baby. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Be safe.”
“Always. Night, gorgeous.”
“Night.” I hang up, then press the cell phone to my smiling lips.
“What are you so happy about?” Libby asks, coming out of the bedroom wearing a robe. Her hair is tied up in a bun on top of her head.
“Wesley’s mom likes me.”
“Are you really surprised by that?” she asks, going to the kitchen.
She grabs a wineglass, then opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of white wine, filling the glass to the brim.
“I don’t know. I didn’t know what to expect, honestly.”
“Everyone likes you. Even Miss Ina, who I’m pretty sure hates everyone. So I’m not surprised.” She takes a sip of wine, then holds the bottle up between us. “You want a glass?”
“No, thanks.” I shake my head and she nods, putting the bottle back in the fridge. “Did you already take a bath?”
“Not yet. I’m filling the tub now. I just wanted a glass of wine.”
“Cool.” I yawn, covering my mouth. Then I reach forward for the remote. “If I’m asleep when you get out, just wake me up.”
“Will do.” She heads into the bedroom.
I turn on the TV and lie down, then promptly fall asleep.
When Libby does come out and wake me up, I’m only able to make it halfway through the movie The Ring. I can’t keep my eyes open, so I give in and go to bed.
“Good morning!” Fawn says in a singsong voice as she walks into the apartment without knocking, making me jump out of my skin.
“Sheesh! You scared the crap out of me.” I hold my hand over my pounding heart.
She smiles. “Sorry. I didn’t even think twice about using my key.” She shrugs, then holds up a bag. “I brought bagels.”
My stomach, which has been silent all morning, growls. My mouth waters when I see the all-too-familiar name printed on the bag.
“Please tell me that you brought smoked salmon cream cheese,” I beg, forgetting all about being scared moments ago.
“I did!” She smiles and sets the bag on the counter.
Pulling out the toaster, I plug it in, then dig out one of the “everything” bagels from the bag and cut it in half.
“You’re here already,” Libby says groggily, coming out of the bedroom.
Fawn looks at her when she comes over to kiss her cheek.
“Levi was out all night. He came in early this morning, so when he came to bed I got up so I wouldn’t bother him,” Fawn explains.
Libby makes her way past me and toward the coffeepot that finished brewing moments ago.
“Levi’s already back to work?” Libby asks.
“Last night was his first night back. The doctors told him that as long as he doesn’t push it, he should be okay.”
“I haven’t talked to Wesley this morning yet. Do you know if everything went okay last night?” I ask.
Fawn’s face softens as she looks at me.
“Yeah, last night they got a lead that they needed to look into.”
“Does Levi talk to you about his cases?” I ask, wondering if it’s only Wesley who keeps his work from me.
“Never.” She shakes her head as she accepts a cup of coffee from Libby. “I don’t even ask him anymore. He knows if he needs to talk that I’m here for him, but he doesn’t talk to me about work. Does Wesley talk to you?”
“No.” I bite the inside of my cheek. Maybe I should ask my mom if my dad talked to her about work.
“I don’t think you’d really want him to talk to you about his work,” Libby says, wrapping her arm around my shoulder while taking a sip of coffee. “I love horror flicks, but I know there is no way that I would be able to handle seeing someone who was really murdered—or hearing about it firsthand.” She shakes her head, then reaches around me to grab the bag of bagels. She pulls one out. “I think them not talking to you about work is their way of protecting you from how ugly the world is.”
“Who protects them?” Fawn asks as my bagel pops up. “I love that Levi wants to protect me, but I also want to know that he’s not carrying around the weight of everything he sees and does on his shoulders.”
“I think you do that for him,” I tell her honestly. “He may not talk to you about his job, but I don’t think he needs to. I think you’re his escape from all that.”