Page 1 of Surprise Baby for the Don

1

Ginny

“Thank fuck’s sake for a moment’s peace,” I say under my breath, bringing two fingers up to massage my right temple.

I sink into the chair in the small, cluttered office at the back of the diner, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease as I let my head drop onto the vintage desk. My eyes close, and for just a moment, I let myself breathe, savoring the quiet.

My older sister, Cassidy, runs this diner. For some reason, this greasy spoon is her dream, despite her fancy culinary education in California.

The calm doesn’t last long.

Cassidy and our dad, Rex, burst into the room like a tornado, voices raised in yet another argument. I wince as they bicker now, knowing it’s going to disrupt my one moment of salvation, and lift my head to see them in mid-battle.

“It’s my diner, Dad!” Cassidy’s voice is sharp, her eyes blazing as she folds her arms. “I’m the one who went to culinary school. I’mthe one who got this place going, not you. So if I say your stupid casserole isn’t going on the menu, it’s not going on the menu!”

Dad looks affronted, his chest puffing up in indignation as he waves a hand in the air.

“It’s a family business, Cass!” he shoots back, louder than he needs to in the small space. “Family! And it wouldn’t kill you to have one meal on there that’s a classic. A good casserole is comfort food!”

Cassidy huffs, annoyed. “I’m not having this argument with you again. If you’re going to invest in this place and put your own ass on the line, maybe we can talk about having one of your dishes on the menu. But as it stands, I’m the one putting the money in, so I will continue making the menu decisions.”

Dad scoffs, clutching his chest and leaning back like he’s had all of his manhood taken from him.

“You know I can’t be in the kitchen all day, Cass. I’ve got obligations!”

He emphasized “obligations” as if he’s some billionaire CEO, and not an alcoholic with a gambling problem.

“Oh, please,” my sister answers in her bullshit detector voice, and I’m sitting here praying they’ll settle down before I have to intervene. Which is a pipe dream, because I’ve been breaking up arguments between them for fifteen years. Life was never particularly easygoing being born into this family. It had its moments that made it worth living though. This was not one of those moments.

“Okay, okay, you two,” I say, reluctantly standing up and trying to inject some calm into the room. “Let’s just agree to disagreefor now, yeah? Cassidy, I’m sure Dad’s suggestion has some sort of merit. Dad, maybe if you helped out with it once in a while, it wouldn’t be such a burden for Cassidy?”

Cassidy lets out an exasperated sigh, and Dad just gives me a wounded look, like I’ve taken my sister’s side. I roll my eyes internally, wondering how many more times I’ll be playing referee before the day is over.

Before they can start up again, I catch a glimpse out of the office window. Someone’s just walked into the diner, a big, hulking figure in a suit that immediately sets off alarm bells. My stomach twists, and I feel a familiar pang of dread. It’s one of Mateo Rossi’s goons, a regular visitor who usually comes bearing bad news. Last time his bad news left Dad with a broken nose.

Too bad it isn’t Rossi himself who comes in, I think to myself. I could stand some eye candy to break up the monotony of the day and Mateo Rossi is as sweet to look at as they come. Not that I’ve had the opportunity to meet eyes with him before. But word on the street is that one look is all it takes to fall in love.

Dad glances over, his face going pale when he sees the guy standing there in the entryway. The argument about casseroles is forgotten instantly. He mutters something under his breath, straightens his shirt, and heads toward the dining area, casting a quick look back at Cassidy and me. His face is suddenly serious, and I watch him approach the guy, his head ducked as they exchange a few quick, low words.

After a few minutes, Dad’s face looks almost ashen. Then, suddenly, he straightens up, his mouth set into something that might be a forced smile. He looks determined in a way that’s entirely unnatural on him.

When he comes back to the office, Cassidy and I exchange glances. There’s something strange in his eyes, some weird blend of fear and excitement that I can’t decipher.

“Ginny,” he says, his voice oddly upbeat. He reaches out and grabs me by the arm, tugging me toward the door with unexpected gusto.

“Dad! What are you doing?” I hiss, trying to pull back, but his grip is tight, almost desperate.

“Come with me,” he says, a strange light in his eyes.

I try to resist, to stand my ground, but his hold is surprisingly strong, and I can see that whatever he’s got in his head isn’t something he’s going to let go of easily.

“Where are we going?” I ask through gritted teeth. His excitement frightens me, frankly. It’s like he’s having a manic episode or something.

He gives me a smile that’s too wide, too forced.

“I talked to one of Mr. Rossi’s guys,” he says, lowering his voice, like this is some great secret. “And it turns out Mr. Rossi himself wants to see you. Something about doing some interior design work for him.”

My stomach drops. Mateo Rossi is not only gorgeous, but he’s also the most notorious crime boss in the city, and my father owes him thousands of dollars. He could have his pick of designers. Why would he want to use me? Something was definitely off.

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