Page 26 of Absinthe Minded

“Gabe, not for nothin’ but you don’t have anything to prove. Joe’s dead. The rivalry’s over. No good will come from trying to fill his shoes.”

His words stung like rubbing alcohol on road rash. “That’s not what this is about. Joe was good with the status quo. I’m not. Fuck the sins of our father, we’re going legit.”

“I’m behind you one hundred percent on that.” He furrowed his brow and took another bite of steak.

“You got something else you want to say?” I half-expected him to bring up more psychobabble bullshit about needing mommy and daddy’s approval.

“Are you sure about this thing with Maggie?”

“I love her. Always have.” The words rolled off my tongue without hesitation.

“No shit. But last time I checked, she wanted your head on a pike. How’d you get her to agree to marry you?”

I knocked back my second shot. “I haven’t asked her yet.”

Leo rubbed his forehead, a habit he shared with my father, and a sure sign I’d lost him.

“I will, but I have to tell her why I broke things off the first time around. She needs to know what she’s walking into.”And I have to convince her she’s still in love with me.

“You mean tell her about thebusiness.” He set his fork down.

“Yep.”

“Bad idea.” He pressed his hand to his gut. “Rebecca changed once she found out. To hear Ma tell it, her post-partem depression had more to do with Joe coming clean than hormones.”

I folded my arms. I’d heard my mother’s side of the story, but I’d also spent time with Joe’s wife. She’d known the truth long before her youngest son was born. “That’s bullshit.”

“It’s been years since you and Maggie broke up. How well do you know her now? What makes you think she won’t run to the cops? Or worse, write a story about it in thePicayune?”

“Good point.” I doubted she’d go to the police, but I hadn’t considered the paper. “But she deserves to know the truth. Even if she throws me out on my ass, she’s raising the next generation of Marchionni men. Sooner or later, thebusinesswill touch them.”

“Unless you get us out free and clear.”

“Free and clear’s a long shot. I’ll settle for legit without bloodshed.”

10

Maggie

Children’s laughterand the scent of fresh baked cookies filled the house, but nothing cheered me up. Though I couldn’t put my finger on what had me in such a foul mood, all signs pointed to Gabe Marchionni.

I struggled to focus on the Bourbon Street Bad Boys Club proposal I’d drafted for Marlena. It wasn’t my best work. It reeked of passive aggression as if I’d taken all of my frustrations with Gabe, his family, and life in general and wrapped them up in one tidy document. I held my breath and hitsendon the email.

In the week since Gabe had arrived, he’d worked nights at the bar and days with his father. At least that’s what he told me. He could have been anywhere with anyone, and I’d never be the wiser.Not that it’s any of my business.

Our kiss haunted me day and night. I’d tried to blame my response on the whiskey, but it was a lie. I’d wanted it. I’d wanted him.

My phone rang. The name and number on the screen caused my pulse to race. I’d only sent the proposal a few minutes ago. Marlena either loved or hated it. I pressed answer.

My boss’s voice boomed through the connection before I had a chance to say hello. “Maggie, I swear on the life of my Christian Louboutins, you have outdone yourself!”

“I’m glad you liked it.” I hurried out the back door. On the off-chance Gabe had woken, I didn’t want him to overhear the conversation. “Is there anything you want changed?”

“Not a thing, darling. Get me what you’ve outlined, and I’ll find a place for you on staff. Telecommuting of course, with a raise and benefits. Whatever you want, just get the story.”

I’d waited a year to hear her say those words. A regular paycheck and health insurance would solve a lot of my problems, but the articles could cause a whole lot more.No. Screw my guilty conscience. I can do this. “I’ve already started working on it.”

“Good to hear. I’d like to run the first article the day of the Mardi Gras Gala. Can you pull it together by then?”

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