Page 13 of Jolene's Justice

“Caio, bella.” Jolene’s attention shot to the bar, and the familiar face beaming at her brought a smile to her lips. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

With his mouth near her ear, Finch spoke softly. “Your dad has an Italian bartender in a Scottish bar?” She grinned at him over her shoulder and shrugged. Her father and Dante were as different as could be, and the language barriers between them were highly entertaining. But they were the best of friends.

“Dante,” she called, making her way to the end of the bar. The Dafty Neighbor’s long-time bartender enveloped her in a huge hug, pulling her off her feet. Her laughter echoed through the room and her feet swung back and forth as he rocked. “Put me down, you big brute,” she teased, slapping him on the shoulder.

“Did you see your dad?” he asked as he set her back on her feet, the concern in his eyes easy to see.

Dante De Lorenzo had been the bartender since the Dafty Neighbor had opened. His lankiness was accentuated by the way his clothes hung loosely on his frame. He appeared to have lost quite a bit of weight since she’d last seen him, and she worried his age was catching up to him. His presence filled the room. It was just as robust and powerful as it had always been.

“Yeah, we just came from the hospital.”

“How was he?”

“Ornery. Denying he was in pain or even that the heart attack happened. Driving the nurses to drink.”

The crinkles at the corners of Dante’s eyes deepened as he chuckled. “Sounds like he’s almost back to normal. The man is nothing if not difficult.”

She let out a snort of laughter. “You mean he’s a stubborn ass.”

“You’re damn right,” he chuckled before his eyes narrowed and he scrutinized her face. “And how are you holding up?”

“I’m fine now that I’ve seen him.”

He studied her as if ascertaining whether she was telling him the truth.

His gaze raked over her from head to toe as he held her at arm’s length. She did the same with him. His dark hair was more gray than black but was still thick and full. The deep creases etched on his weathered face were a testament to the many years he had lived, each one marked by the joys and sorrows of life. As he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkled like the edges of a well-thumbed book. The sound of his laughter was like music to her ears and never failed to cheer her up.

“Ah, bellissima as always.”

She grinned and said, “Aw, bless your heart.” His smooth talking and quick wit made him a natural charmer. And a perfect bartender.

“If only I was ten years younger.”

Jolene scoffed. “Ten years? That would still make you old enough to be my grandfather.”

“Haven’t you heard? Age-gap romances are all the rage on that tickety-tockety app thing. We could make it work.”

Jolene laughed. “What do you know about age-gap romances?”

“Just what Marjorie tells me about them during poker night.”

Things never changed. Marjorie had been her mom’s best friend. She, Dante, and her dad had been playing poker with each other every Monday night for as long as she could remember. Her mom used to be their fourth, but since she died, they’d had a revolving door of friends who’d taken her spot.

“What has that woman been filling your head with?”

“You could use an older man in your life. Your track record hasn’t been so hot in that regard.”

“That’s not true,” she complained.

“Grady Smith.” Dante threw the name out at her, and she could feel the heat of a blush rise in her cheeks.

“Jesus, Dante. That was when I was in eighth grade.”

He didn’t let up. “You let that boy kiss you, and then what happened a week later?” he prompted.

A wave of embarrassment washed over her. It was like she was a pre-teen all over again.

“He was kissing Cynthia Maddox.” She remembered how devastated she’d been. She’d gone to the same spot he’d first kissed her, hoping for some more lip lock action, only to find those lips on Cynthia Maddox. “In my defense, I was young and stupid.”

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