Page 2 of Starting Over

“Hello, Sal.” I kissed him back.

It was only polite.

The Irish were a touchy-feely group. It wasn’t a surprise to see half a dozen men dancing a jig with their arms around each other. Or hugging and kissing the cheek of each member of the family, whether they were male or female.

So I expected the kiss.

What I didn’t expect was his hand on my ass.

Stepping away from Sal, I sat on a stool.

“Ya sure ya want to be leavin’ us, Maura?” Sal asked.

“I am. You know the rules, Sal. A widow is free,” I reminded him.

“Maybe the rules need to be changed,” he countered.

“Maybe they should. But I’m out, either way. Duane has been gone a year. I’ve done my time. I want to spend the rest of my life in a quiet place with no stress.”

“Life is stressful, Maura.”

“No, Sal. Mob life is stressful,” I corrected him.

Taking a sip of my beer, I looked around the bar for someone or something to distract Sal while I slipped away.

“So where have ya decided to settle?”

I looked at Sal, curious as to why he was asking.

“I haven’t. Just gonna drive until somewhere speaks to me.”

“Now, Maura. Acaoimhelike ya, alone in the middle of nowhere,” he said, rubbing his chin like he was thinking. “The world can be a scary place.”

“Don’t worry, Sal. I am quite capable of taking care of myself. Excuse me, I have a few more people to say goodbye to,” I reminded him as I slid off my stool and walked away before he could make another veiled threat. And that was exactly what it was.

A threat.

I knew Sal wasn’t happy I was leaving. I had been in the life since the day I was born. My father was a captain; my husband was a soldier. No one expected my involvement as a daughter and wife. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t be in the life. My only expectation was to take care of my home and raise my children.

Colleen was our only child. For that, I was thankful. Thankful I had never had a boy who would be forced to join thefamily business. Thankfully, Duane had never pushed our only daughter to marry into thefamily business, like my father had done to me.

I was one of the lucky ones.

Duane and I had been friends since we were kids. After getting married, we had easily fallen in love. We had a great life together.

Until he was murdered.

His death meant my life became my own.

I was a Mob widow.

I now had options.

I could stay and continue to collect half of Duane’s compensation, or I could remarry. Sal had tried to push that option. Offered to marry me himself. Or I could take what I had saved and leave.

My decision was easy.

I’d had enough of this life.

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