Romeo, Romeo Page 26
Rosalie slipped her shoes on and buttoned her suit jacket as she rose. The jacket covered the slightly—okay, maybe a little more than slightly—large skirt.
There was a knock on the door and then Gina stuck her head in, with a huge smile on her face and no lipstick. Odd, that. Gina always wore lipstick—bright, red, and glossy. A large hand pushed the door open from above her head. Way above. A large male hand. Rosalie's breath caught, and she held onto her desk. Nick?
Gina flew through the door, followed closely by Rich. “Hi, Ro. Still looking like shit, I see.”
“Richie? What are you doing here?”
Gina sidestepped him and tried to back out. Rich caught her around the waist. How he did that, with him being so tall and Gina so short, was interesting to watch. Rosalie guessed that being a knuckle-dragger was good for something.
She swallowed her disappointment and wished for another swig of Mylanta. Then she remembered, too late, to check for a Mylanta mustache. Damn.
Gina pointed at her. “See, I told you. She walks around half the time with white stuff around her mouth from drinking bottles of stomach medicine.”
“I do not.”
Gina teetered to the desk and picked up the wastepa-per basket. She pulled out two empty bottles. The cleaning people obviously hadn't come for a few days.
“You see why I called you?” Gina told Rich. “She's turning into a Mylanta-holic, and she's so thin. It's unnatural.”
Rosalie was irate. “You called my brother and told him about me?”
“Well, what else was I to do? It was either Rich or your mother, and I thought you would be less likely to kill me if I called Rich. You don' eat, you don' sleep, you don' do anything but mope. This is an intervention. I saw it on Montel one time when I was home sick. It's like they bring together all the people that are important to—”
Rosalie shook her head in disbelief. Gina's accent was stronger than Rickie Ricardo's owl Love Lucy. She even had the hand gestures going.
“Gina, I know what an intervention is. Thank you. But I'm not an alcoholic, drug addict, or compulsive shopper. I don't need an intervention.”
“Oh, yes, you do,” Rich piped up, throwing an arm around Gina and pulling her to his side. “Don't blame Gina for caring about you, little sister.”
“Rich, look, I'm sorry you were dragged all the way down here for nothing. I'm fine.”
“Yeah, you look fine—if you're into cadavers.”
“I don't need to defend myself to you. I tried to be polite, but now I'm out of here. Have a nice time in the city, Rich. Call me when you learn to mind your own business. And Gina, I'll talk to you about the meaning of the word 'privacy' tomorrow.” Gina shot her a look.
Rosalie smiled, happy to have the opportunity to get back at her nosy assistant. “Yes, I know you don't like working late on Fridays, but it was the only time I could set up an appointment with Lassiter's secretary without anyone else finding out about it. Besides, you owe me. Good-bye.”
Gina chased after Rosalie until she was out of the department. It sounded as if Rich had stopped her. It was a good thing, too. Rosalie didn't know what she would have done if Gina had caught up to her. She was holding her temper by a thread that was unraveling real fast.
The next day, Rosalie and Gina discussed their game plan.
Gina sat across from Rosalie's desk taking notes. “Okay, we're supposed to meet Randi, Jack's secretary, in an hour and a half. We've got a lot of ground to cover.”
Rosalie nodded. “If all goes well with Randi, we should be able to take this to the Board on Monday. They can decide if they want to get the police involved. We have evidence of Jack's embezzlement for the last fiscal year. Depending on what gems Randi sees fit to share, since she's the one who overheard Jack proposition you. Oh, nice job with that.”
“You know what I always say—”
“Men are pigs?”
“No, never marry the man you fool around with. He cheats on his wife.”
Nick had the TV on with the hockey game playing in the background. It was a Friday night home game, but he didn't have the energy to go, and he always went to home games. Before Rosalie, he'd loved the game; now, it had turned into a sick form of self-inflicted torture. He couldn't watch without thinking of Rosalie, imagining what she'd say about a call, the names she'd call the refs, or the way she'd bounce on the bed when the Islanders penetrated the blue line or rushed the goal. Watching her through a power play was a thing of beauty. Her cheeks would pink with excitement, and she'd look the exact same way she did when she was turned on.
Shit, he did this to himself every time. He'd watch hockey, thinking of her the whole time, and all he'd have to show for it was a broken and bleeding heart and a hard-on—one that seemed to become nonexistent around every other women.
He'd tried jumping back into the dating scene. He'd had tickets to a fundraiser at the New York Philharmonic and had asked a gorgeous woman he'd met while she was doing a commercial for Romeo's. She was nothing like Rosalie, so he figured he'd be fine. He'd go out, have a good time, and sleep with Bridget. Or was it Barbara? Hmm… maybe Brenda. No, it was Brooke. That was her name, Brooke. He'd sleep with Brooke and get Rosalie out of his system. He'd taken her out and made small talk—very small talk. It wasn't as if there was anything wrong with her. She was nice, intelligent, and beautiful, but she wasn't Rosalie. He went as far as her front door.
The whole time he was out with Brooke, he'd felt as if he were cheating. Stupid, he knew, since Rosalie was the one who'd stepped out on him.
God, every time he thought about the last time he saw Rosalie, the pain knocked the wind right out of him.
The doorbell rang, and Nick grabbed his wallet to pay for the pizza he'd ordered. He'd only wanted the pizza to go with the beer he'd bought. He'd given up Jack Daniels since that week in the Hamptons. He'd begun to worry about his drinking.
God, he was a mess—a fact that Lois reminded him of on a daily basis. He hadn't been this miserable since his first week in Juvie. He never thought he'd survive that, but at least in there, he knew his release date. He had no idea how long this pain would last.
Nick opened the door and pulled a fifty out of his wallet. He looked up just as a fist crashed into his face.
Chapter Seventeen
When Nick answered the door, he expected to see the pizza boy, not Rich Ronaldi. And he never expected to be cold-cocked. Before he recovered, Rich followed through with a punch to the stomach, slammed the door shut, and was all over Nick.
“You lying, filthy son of a bitch.”
Rich was a good fighter, Nick remembered. They danced around the foyer, catching punches and each landing their fair share.
They were evenly matched—two guys of approximately the same age, height, and weight who hadn't been in a fight since their teens.
It felt good to punch someone after years of just wanting to. Even the pain felt good—okay, maybe not good, but deserved. Rich had every right to beat the shit out of Nick. Hell, he'd had a right fifteen years ago, but they'd been arrested before Rich could break Nick's neck for sleeping with his girlfriend.
Still, the fact that he had it coming didn't mean Nick had to be a punching bag. Nick gave Rich a kidney shot.
The doorbell rang and worked like the bell in a boxing match. Nick and Rich stopped fighting, and both went to neutral corners.
Nick answered the door, picked up his wallet lying open on the floor, and paid for the pizza. If the delivery boy noticed anything strange, he never let on. Nick handed him a fifty and told him to keep the change, grabbed the pizza, and closed the door, wondering if he'd have time to put the pizza down before Rich went after him again.
Nick cleared his throat. “Do you want to call it a draw and eat?”
Rich nodded. “Yeah, I'm too old for this shit. But you'd better tell me why you were screwing with Rosalie and lying to her.”
“I'll tell you everything. Don't hit me again until after I finish. Fair
enough?”
Rich shrugged. “Okay. But it better be good.” He followed Nick to the kitchen.
Nick slid the pizza onto the granite counter top, went to the refrigerator, and pulled out two beers. He handed one to Rich and put the other on his eye. The damn thing was still watering. He was glad it was red and swelling. Otherwise, the pizza boy would have thought he was crying. As it was, he was going to have one hell of a shiner.
Rich looked around Nick's kitchen and whistled. “Shit, this place has changed since the last time I was here.”
“Yeah, I'm not living in the basement apartment anymore. I bought the building and turned it back into a single family.”
“How are your mom and Vinny?”
“Good. I bought Mom a brownstone a few blocks away. She doesn't have to work any more, so she's enjoying herself. She's got Nana living with her. Vinny and Mona still have the restaurant, and they've had three kids. They're good. I hear you've done well for yourself—a professor at Dartmouth—who'd a thunk, huh?”
Rich nodded. “I bet if you asked one of those cops who arrested us how we'd turn out, he'd have said we'd both end up at Rikers Island doing hard time.”
“No chance of that. One stint in Juvie, and I'd had enough to know I never wanted to be behind bars again.”
Rich closed his eyes and shook his head. “Shit, Nick, I'm sorry about that. I asked my parents to help—”
“You what? After what I did, you asked your parents to help me out?”
“The only reason you got into trouble was because you followed me. You were the kid brother I never had. And I should have taken better care of you.”
“Hold on. You're Rich Ronaldi, right? The Rich Ronaldi who caught me sleeping with his girlfriend the day we got arrested?”
“Hell, you were what—fifteen? And you were bombed. Sophia and I'd been fighting about something—I don't remember what—and she used you to get back at me. I knew how it was. I just never expected her to tip the cops off after I dumped her.”
Nick sat on a bar stool. “That makes sense. Sophia was the snitch. I always wondered how we got caught.” He opened his beer and took a long pull.
“You didn't know?”
Nick wiped his mouth on his sleeve and shook his head. “No. I pleaded guilty and was sent to Juvie. I guess in the end, it was the best thing that could have happened. I learned enough to know I wasn't cut out for crime. I didn't like doing time.” He opened the pizza box, grabbed a slice, and pushed the box over to Rich. “Vinny helped me out, got me through high school. I got a job as a mechanic, put myself through Columbia, and opened my own place. I've been lucky.”
“Yeah, now you're a big shot. I come back every now and then. I heard about how well you were doing. I would have looked you up, but I didn't think you'd appreciate a visit from me.”
Nick shook his head. “Christ, I feel like we're in one of those reunion shows on that women's channel. What is it?”
Rich nodded. “Lifetime.” Nick raised an eyebrow. “Hey, I have girlfriends.”
“Yeah, well, don't expect me to say how much I've missed you and give you a hug or something. It's not going to happen. I am happy to see you, though.”
“Yeah, same here. Except for all the shit I heard from Gina about you and Rosalie. I had to pound you for that.”
“Understood. But in my own defense, Lee's the one who wanted no strings and no commitments. I was just following her rules, and I thought it'd be over long before you came to town for spring break.” Nick took another bite of pizza and talked with his mouth full. “My relationships usually don't last a month before the woman starts making wedding plans.”
“Why did you lie to Rosalie about who you are?”
“Gee, I don't know, Rich. I figured you'd have a problem with your little sister seeing the person who got your ass thrown in jail. My mistake.”
“Anyone would be better than that asshole, Joey.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Don't mention it. Besides, you had nothing to do with our arrest.”
Nick shot Rich a you-gotta-be-kidding look.
“Okay, you had something to do with it, but only because you were a normal, horny fifteen-year-old and acted like one. Hell, you should never have been there in the first place, and you wouldn't have, if it weren't for me.”
“Oh, come on, Rich. Let's face it; we were both looking for trouble, and we found it together. I knew what the hell I was doing. Though maybe not when I did Sophia. I can't remember that.”
“Wow, that sucks—too drunk to remember your first time.”
“How'd you know it was my first time?”
“Come on, Nick. This is me you're talking to.”
“Right. I could never pull one over on you.” He took a long draw on his beer.
“So, are you going to do the right thing and marry Rosalie?”
Nick choked and coughed. Marriage? He couldn't breathe. Rich smacked Nick on the back. It took him a minute to catch his breath. “Why would I need to marry Lee? Hell, why would she need to marry me?”
“Gina called me and asked me to fly down. She said Rosalie's sick.”
“Sick? What's wrong with her? Is she back in the hospital?”
“Calm down. No, she's not in the hospital, but I'm worried. I've never seen Rosalie so skinny. She looks like hell, and Gina says the sight of food makes her queasy.
Gina doesn't think she is, but it sure sounds to me like she's pregnant.”
“Pregnant? Did you say you think she's pregnant, as in, having-a-baby pregnant?”
“Yeah, that's usually how it goes. A woman gets knocked up, then nine months later, she has a baby.”
Oh, God, a baby. He was going to be a father. Nick sat down, before he fell down. He hoped to heaven he'd be a better father than his old man, not that he could be worse. “You didn't ask her?”
“Hell, no, A guy can't ask his little sister that. He goes to the boyfriend, beats the shit out of him, and makes the boyfriend ask.”
Nick nodded. It made perfect sense to him. “Christ, a baby.”
“Yeah, a baby. What the hell are you going to do about it, Nick?”
Nick smiled so big, it cut his face in half. He was elated. A baby. Man, that was it. Screw the rules. A baby took precedence over the rules any day. He and Rosalie were having a baby. How cool was that? He pictured a little girl with Rosalie's curly hair and smile and a little boy who looked just like him. Damn, he'd get her back for sure now. They'd get married. She and Dave would move into the brownstone. They'd have to get rid of the furniture, though. No kid of his was going to grow up in a fuckin' museum. No, they'd do it up just like Rosalie's place, only bigger… and neater.
Rosalie couldn't go on eating pizza and takeout every night. When they were together, he'd always cooked for her. She needed to eat healthy stuff. He'd have to find out what to feed a pregnant woman. God, a kid—they were going to be a family. A real family. Like they were before, only now, they'd have a dog and a kid. Shit. They'd been a family before, but he'd never seen that. They spent time together. They had fun, even when they weren't making love. On Saturday mornings, before he went into work, they'd hang out in bed, drinking coffee and sharing the paper. They didn't talk. They didn't screw. They were just together. It was comfortable. That wasn't something he could see himself getting sick of. Vin was right. He'd found the right one, and he'd been too stupid to see it. He was a putz.
“Nick. You there?”
“Huh? Oh yeah. What did you say?”
“I asked, what you were going to do about Rosalie and the baby.”
“I'm going to stop being a putz.”
“Does that include doing the right thing and making an honest woman of her?”
“You let Lee hear you talking like that and she's going to kill you, you know.”
“You see her anywhere within earshot?”
“No, but that's going to change, real soon. Well, if I can talk her into it. God, what if I can't?”
“I didn't dump her; she dumped me. She's the one who stepped out…”
“Look, I'm just telling you what she said. Don't argue with me.”
“Fine. What the hell did she say?”
“She said that she really liked you, but she did something stupid, and you dumped her. She looked like she'd been crying for a week.”
“When did you come down?”
“Let me think. The eighteenth, I think. It was a Tuesday.”
“She went out on the Friday before. She never told me where she was going. I was waiting for her, expecting her to be home for dinner.”
“What do you mean, home for dinner?”
“I'd been staying over at her place.”
“She let you stay? As in an overnight stay? She never let anyone spend the night. I used to tease her, because she'd been with asshole Joey for two years, and she'd never woken up with him, except during conversations. She used to tell me that after sharing a bathroom with me, she'd never share a bathroom with another male.”
“She never had a problem sharing a bathroom with me. We used to have a lot of fun in the bathroom—”
“Stop. You're talking about my sister here. That's way too much information.”
“Look, all I'm saying is that we were practically living together. Hell, there was no practically about it. We were living together for a few months. I only stopped by here to pick up my mail. That Friday, I was waiting for her to come home. I'd planned to tell her the truth about who I was, and how you and I knew each other—tell her about my rap sheet.”