Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
I wasn’t sure how to respond. “Thank you.”
He eyed me pointedly, then shifted his chair and sat closer. He pulled my plate over and cut a small piece of chicken, added some of the creamy potatoes to the fork and pressed it to my lips. “Open.”
I was so shocked by his actions, I did as he directed, chewing slowly. He readied another fork.
“Why bagels?” he asked.
“My mom’s favorite food. She made them all the time and taught me. They became one of mine too. I wanted something different for my diner, and I liked the idea of using bagels.”
I let him feed me another mouthful, and I chewed and swallowed.
“Bagels and breakfast go hand in hand. I decided the gimmick would be bagels for everything. No toast or muffins. Bagels with breakfast, bagel sandwiches. We make five kinds daily. All from scratch. Two kinds of soup. And breakfast. We open at six and close at three.”
“Long days,” he observed.
“Yes. But it has grown and caught on. I employ six people, and I am proud of that.”
“And the cookies?”
He fed me another bite, and I shrugged as I chewed. “Another fun thing. My mom made sugar cookies all the time. It gives me a creative outlet. I make them in huge batches on the days the diner is closed. You get a cookie with every lunch order.”
He set down the utensils, and I was surprised to see I had eaten a lot of the food on my plate. At least enough to satisfy him.
He didn’t move his chair but continued to ask me questions about the diner. I told him how I had invested the money my mom left me. I bought the building in the neighborhood I grew up in and started the business, watching it grow.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Twenty-seven. How old are you?” I responded.
“Thirty-six.”
I looked around the sumptuous office. “I think you might be doing better than I am in the business department.”
He threw back his head and laughed. The sound was loud and rich, and it made me smile with him.
“Family business, Little Tiger. It helps when you’re rich to start with. I inherited a fortune, and I kept it growing.”
“Was your family, um…” I wasn’t sure how to finish my question. “Mafia?” I had heard rumors.
“An arm of it. A syndicate.” He took a sip. “Still are, but things are different now.”
I wanted to ask how, but I couldn’t get the words past my mouth.
“Will you kill me?”
He shook his head. “No. I will protect you. I never hurt women or children.” He frowned as he studied the contents of his glass. “Unlike your fucking sister, I do have some morals.”
My smile fell at the mention of my sister.
“What?”
I shook my head.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
“After Marianne tripped me—”
He cut me off. “She tripped you?”
I nodded. “I was trying to get to the door. I thought if I could at least scream, maybe someone would hear me. But she stuck out her foot, and I fell instead.”
He shut his eyes, a string of curse words, some in English, some in what I assumed was Italian, escaping his mouth. His hand curled into a fist on the table, and it took a moment before he gathered himself.
“What happened after she tripped you?”
“I was lying on the floor, and she was tossing my apartment. I wasn’t sure why until you said inheritance. Mom left me a necklace that was my grandmother’s. Marianne wanted it. She always wanted it, and she hated the fact that Mom gave it to me.”
“But you’re your mother’s biological daughter. It makes sense.”
I shrugged. “Marianne’s wants rarely made sense. Mom gave Marianne her wedding rings, which were worth more, but she wanted both.”
“Always selfish, I see,” he said dryly.
I lifted one shoulder in agreement. “She must have been looking for it. I guess she thought I’d be dead soon enough, she might as well have it.”
My voice caught on the last part, and I had to swallow.
“Where did you keep it?”
“In a box I had taped to the back of a drawer. I was always worried she’d try to take it, so I never wore it. I wonder if she kept it or sold it.”
Suddenly, I was overwhelmed again. The memories of those moments and the hours that followed hit me hard. I could feel my emotions threatening to swamp me. Knowing my sister had been at the center of all of this was too much to handle. I stood so fast, my chair toppled, and the room spun. Roman was on his feet instantly, but I held up my hands. “No, please. Don’t.” I swallowed the thickness in my throat, desperate and frantic. “Excuse me.”
I gripped the table until the dizziness passed. I turned and stumbled from the room, needing to be alone.