Read Online Crazy About You by Katie O'Sullivan - Free Book Online
Authors: Katie O'Sullivan
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cleared his throat. “So, Tony is your boyfriend?”
“Tony Lenzi. He sells corporate insurance. And he’s not my boyfriend. He’s only a friend.”
Chase’s eyebrows shot up. “Lenzi? Is he part of the Lenzini family?”
“I don’t think so. I would assume his father has the same last name as Tony. Lenzi, not Lenzini.”
Chase blew out an exasperated breath. “I meant the Lenzini crime family, smarty pants.”
“Crime family? As in mafia?” Emma frowned. “Are you serious? Married to the Mob is the Carnival theme, not for real. Just because someone has an Italian name doesn’t automatically qualify them for a role in the Godfather movies or a mini-series on cable television.”
He shrugged. “I grew up in New York. Organized crime is a real thing, and those particular Italian names are familiar because they’re favorites of newspaper crime reporters. But you’re right, the name doesn’t automatically mean the guy is part of that family.”
Emma stood in front of the counter, undecided on what flavor to order. And whether to take Chase seriously about the mobster thing. Thoughts of Tony swirled through her brain, sorting truth from fiction. He sold insurance, not mob-based protection. Didn’t he?
Chase jostled her elbow, his tone teasing. “Earth to Emma, she’s asking for your order.”
“I’ll try that first one listed under the ‘new’ column: Vanilla Chip Nantucket Blueberry, please.”
The teen behind the counter nodded. “Cup or cone?”
She cocked an eyebrow at Chase. “How much of that money is left over from lunch?”
“Plenty. Get whatever you want.”
She turned to order. “Do you have any of the chocolate-dipped waffle cones with jimmies? The colored ones?” When the girl nodded, Emma gave her a thumbs-up.
Chase placed an order for a double scoop of chocolate in a cup. Emma gestured toward the chalkboard, eyebrows raised. “All these cool flavors and you go for plain old chocolate?”
“What if I chose something with an awesome name but then didn’t like the taste? You can’t go wrong with chocolate. It’s a sure thing.” The pair shuffled forward as the next person in line started to order.
“Do you always go for the sure thing? Don’t you ever want to try something different?”
“It never hurts to play it safe.”
“What fun is that? ‘Nothing gambled, nothing gained,’ as my grandfather used to say. Better to try and fail than not try at all.” A thrill ran through her when he smiled at her words, his stormy eyes making her heart skip a beat. She wondered if her grandfather meant to include kissing strangers when he spoke of gambling and taking chances. More than ice cream, she wanted another taste of Chase.
One of the teens behind the counter called out their orders, snapping her from her daze. The oversized waffle cone of vanilla ice cream, bursting with blueberries and white chocolate chips and covered with colorful jimmies, dwarfed Chase’s sensible cup of plain chocolate. She dribbled sprinkles in her wake all the way to the sidewalk. “Here, hold this for a sec.” She shoved the cone into his empty hand and untied the dog’s leash. Hershey’s tail wagged at double speed, obviously hoping for ice cream of his own.
“Is that your philosophy of life? Always living on the edge?” He handed back her cone and they started walking in the direction of the wharf.
She didn’t hesitate. “Maybe not always. But yeah, most of the time.” A giant drip of ice cream plopped onto her bare thigh, just below the hem of her skirt, and trailed sprinkles down the front of her leg. The dog stopped to lick her knee and she let out a giggle when Chase’s eyes widened. “This is why I don’t order chocolate.”
“So you do plan ahead.”
“I never said I didn’t plan.” Emma slipped a napkin from her bag. “In fact, I used to be big on planning. But it turned out to be overrated. Too hard to adjust course when you get derailed. Also, how will I know
“Tony Lenzi. He sells corporate insurance. And he’s not my boyfriend. He’s only a friend.”
Chase’s eyebrows shot up. “Lenzi? Is he part of the Lenzini family?”
“I don’t think so. I would assume his father has the same last name as Tony. Lenzi, not Lenzini.”
Chase blew out an exasperated breath. “I meant the Lenzini crime family, smarty pants.”
“Crime family? As in mafia?” Emma frowned. “Are you serious? Married to the Mob is the Carnival theme, not for real. Just because someone has an Italian name doesn’t automatically qualify them for a role in the Godfather movies or a mini-series on cable television.”
He shrugged. “I grew up in New York. Organized crime is a real thing, and those particular Italian names are familiar because they’re favorites of newspaper crime reporters. But you’re right, the name doesn’t automatically mean the guy is part of that family.”
Emma stood in front of the counter, undecided on what flavor to order. And whether to take Chase seriously about the mobster thing. Thoughts of Tony swirled through her brain, sorting truth from fiction. He sold insurance, not mob-based protection. Didn’t he?
Chase jostled her elbow, his tone teasing. “Earth to Emma, she’s asking for your order.”
“I’ll try that first one listed under the ‘new’ column: Vanilla Chip Nantucket Blueberry, please.”
The teen behind the counter nodded. “Cup or cone?”
She cocked an eyebrow at Chase. “How much of that money is left over from lunch?”
“Plenty. Get whatever you want.”
She turned to order. “Do you have any of the chocolate-dipped waffle cones with jimmies? The colored ones?” When the girl nodded, Emma gave her a thumbs-up.
Chase placed an order for a double scoop of chocolate in a cup. Emma gestured toward the chalkboard, eyebrows raised. “All these cool flavors and you go for plain old chocolate?”
“What if I chose something with an awesome name but then didn’t like the taste? You can’t go wrong with chocolate. It’s a sure thing.” The pair shuffled forward as the next person in line started to order.
“Do you always go for the sure thing? Don’t you ever want to try something different?”
“It never hurts to play it safe.”
“What fun is that? ‘Nothing gambled, nothing gained,’ as my grandfather used to say. Better to try and fail than not try at all.” A thrill ran through her when he smiled at her words, his stormy eyes making her heart skip a beat. She wondered if her grandfather meant to include kissing strangers when he spoke of gambling and taking chances. More than ice cream, she wanted another taste of Chase.
One of the teens behind the counter called out their orders, snapping her from her daze. The oversized waffle cone of vanilla ice cream, bursting with blueberries and white chocolate chips and covered with colorful jimmies, dwarfed Chase’s sensible cup of plain chocolate. She dribbled sprinkles in her wake all the way to the sidewalk. “Here, hold this for a sec.” She shoved the cone into his empty hand and untied the dog’s leash. Hershey’s tail wagged at double speed, obviously hoping for ice cream of his own.
“Is that your philosophy of life? Always living on the edge?” He handed back her cone and they started walking in the direction of the wharf.
She didn’t hesitate. “Maybe not always. But yeah, most of the time.” A giant drip of ice cream plopped onto her bare thigh, just below the hem of her skirt, and trailed sprinkles down the front of her leg. The dog stopped to lick her knee and she let out a giggle when Chase’s eyes widened. “This is why I don’t order chocolate.”
“So you do plan ahead.”
“I never said I didn’t plan.” Emma slipped a napkin from her bag. “In fact, I used to be big on planning. But it turned out to be overrated. Too hard to adjust course when you get derailed. Also, how will I know
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