Honest.
Vincent Moretti was a good man.
She should absolutely be interested, especially if he was interested.
And yet…
She bit her lip.
“Mags,” Elena chided. “Do you have a thing for Anth?”
“No!”
“Good.”
Both Maggie and Elena glanced at Maria in surprise, and the older woman shrugged. “It’s not that my Anthony isn’t a good man. It’s just that he’s not…he’s not suitor material. Not yet, anyway.”
Suitor . Maggie nearly smiled. “What do you mean?” she asked, unable to stop herself.
Elena let out a sigh. “Mom’s right. Anthony’s a good guy. The best. But he’s um…cautious.”
Maria nodded in agreement, looking a little sad.
“Has he always been that way?” Maggie asked, even as she ordered herself not to act so interested.
“Yes, somewhat,” Maria hedged. “But it’s gotten much worse since that horrible experience with that poor girl who died…”
Don’t ask. Don’t pry…
Someone had died ?
“Vannah,” Elena said with a touch of snark. “Who was—”
“Elena.” Maria’s tone was soft but rife with meaning. Don’t go there.
To Maggie’s surprise, Elena listened to her mother and didn’t finish her sentence.
“So that’s a no on Vincent then?” Elena asked, changing the subject.
Maggie opened her mouth, wanting to say no…that she couldn’t possibly date one brother while dreaming about another.
But then she remembered the way Anthony hardly spoke to her…the way he hadn’t even come to see her when she’d stopped by the precinct at his request.
“That’s a maybe ,” she said with a small smile.
“Good girl,” Elena said happily. “I know Vincent’s a little rough around the edges, but believe it or not, he’s the least emotionally damaged of the bunch. And since it’s obvious he’s never going to make a move on Jill—”
“Jill, as in his partner?” Maggie asked curiously. She’d only met Jill a handful of times when she tagged along with the Morettis, but she had the impression of a bright, bubbly blonde who was the polar opposite of quiet, serious Vincent.
“Yup,” Elena confirmed, her voice all happy-gossip. “For the longest time, we all thought…Mags? Maggie, are you okay?”
No.
No, Maggie wasn’t okay.
Her entire world was tilting.
Maggie heard Elena’s voice from a mile away and was distantly aware of Maria touching her arm softly.
Someone cried out, and she felt Kim’s arm go around her waist as her friend lowered her into the chair Elena had just vacated, while Maria pushed a water glass into her hand.
“Maggie, talk to me,” Kim said, crouching down in front of her and taking both hands. “You look ready to faint. Aren’t you supposed to put your face between your knees or something? Or maybe—”
“I’m fine,” Maggie said, finally tearing her eyes away from the window.
He was gone. Or maybe he had never been there at all. Or maybe…
It was Maria Moretti’s no-nonsense, motherly voice that finally got through as she cupped Maggie’s face in her hands and stared down at her face with a gentle but stern gaze. “Maggie. Talk.”
Maggie licked her lips and blinked away the sudden sting of tears.
And then she talked.
“I’m pretty sure I just saw my ex-husband watching me through the window.”
Chapter Seven
O n the Moretti Scale of Tempers , Anthony fell somewhere in the middle.
Elena, Vincent, and their father were the hotheads.
Luc, Marc, and their mother were more the peacemakers.
Anth was in between. He may not be as mellow as Marc, who could probably coax a skittish horse onto a sinking Titanic , but neither was he as prone to bursts of fury as Vincent when a killer got off easy, or as fiery as Elena when she lost a case.
But at this moment, as he stood outside in the rain in the alley waiting for a stubborn, foolhardy waitress to finish up her shift, he was mad. Good and mad.
And by the time Maggie Walker finally slipped out the back door of the diner, he’d moved
Vincent Moretti was a good man.
She should absolutely be interested, especially if he was interested.
And yet…
She bit her lip.
“Mags,” Elena chided. “Do you have a thing for Anth?”
“No!”
“Good.”
Both Maggie and Elena glanced at Maria in surprise, and the older woman shrugged. “It’s not that my Anthony isn’t a good man. It’s just that he’s not…he’s not suitor material. Not yet, anyway.”
Suitor . Maggie nearly smiled. “What do you mean?” she asked, unable to stop herself.
Elena let out a sigh. “Mom’s right. Anthony’s a good guy. The best. But he’s um…cautious.”
Maria nodded in agreement, looking a little sad.
“Has he always been that way?” Maggie asked, even as she ordered herself not to act so interested.
“Yes, somewhat,” Maria hedged. “But it’s gotten much worse since that horrible experience with that poor girl who died…”
Don’t ask. Don’t pry…
Someone had died ?
“Vannah,” Elena said with a touch of snark. “Who was—”
“Elena.” Maria’s tone was soft but rife with meaning. Don’t go there.
To Maggie’s surprise, Elena listened to her mother and didn’t finish her sentence.
“So that’s a no on Vincent then?” Elena asked, changing the subject.
Maggie opened her mouth, wanting to say no…that she couldn’t possibly date one brother while dreaming about another.
But then she remembered the way Anthony hardly spoke to her…the way he hadn’t even come to see her when she’d stopped by the precinct at his request.
“That’s a maybe ,” she said with a small smile.
“Good girl,” Elena said happily. “I know Vincent’s a little rough around the edges, but believe it or not, he’s the least emotionally damaged of the bunch. And since it’s obvious he’s never going to make a move on Jill—”
“Jill, as in his partner?” Maggie asked curiously. She’d only met Jill a handful of times when she tagged along with the Morettis, but she had the impression of a bright, bubbly blonde who was the polar opposite of quiet, serious Vincent.
“Yup,” Elena confirmed, her voice all happy-gossip. “For the longest time, we all thought…Mags? Maggie, are you okay?”
No.
No, Maggie wasn’t okay.
Her entire world was tilting.
Maggie heard Elena’s voice from a mile away and was distantly aware of Maria touching her arm softly.
Someone cried out, and she felt Kim’s arm go around her waist as her friend lowered her into the chair Elena had just vacated, while Maria pushed a water glass into her hand.
“Maggie, talk to me,” Kim said, crouching down in front of her and taking both hands. “You look ready to faint. Aren’t you supposed to put your face between your knees or something? Or maybe—”
“I’m fine,” Maggie said, finally tearing her eyes away from the window.
He was gone. Or maybe he had never been there at all. Or maybe…
It was Maria Moretti’s no-nonsense, motherly voice that finally got through as she cupped Maggie’s face in her hands and stared down at her face with a gentle but stern gaze. “Maggie. Talk.”
Maggie licked her lips and blinked away the sudden sting of tears.
And then she talked.
“I’m pretty sure I just saw my ex-husband watching me through the window.”
Chapter Seven
O n the Moretti Scale of Tempers , Anthony fell somewhere in the middle.
Elena, Vincent, and their father were the hotheads.
Luc, Marc, and their mother were more the peacemakers.
Anth was in between. He may not be as mellow as Marc, who could probably coax a skittish horse onto a sinking Titanic , but neither was he as prone to bursts of fury as Vincent when a killer got off easy, or as fiery as Elena when she lost a case.
But at this moment, as he stood outside in the rain in the alley waiting for a stubborn, foolhardy waitress to finish up her shift, he was mad. Good and mad.
And by the time Maggie Walker finally slipped out the back door of the diner, he’d moved
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