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The Sassy One (Marcelli #2) - Page 34/43

Jason groaned. “Sam, no. Not another trip to the wilderness. I don’t even have all my shots yet for that African safari. We’re going inside the blue zone. Do you know what that means?”

Trying not to laugh, Sam shook his head.

“The blue zone is African airspace where there isn’t much in the way of traffic control. No one is in charge, so planes have a real good chance of running into each other.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“It’s hell,” Jason muttered. “Pure hell.”

“The Johnsons don’t want to go to Africa.”

“Where do they want to go?”

“They asked for you specifically. Apparently their youngest adores you.”

“Sam,” Jason growled. “Where are they going?”

“Did you know that winter for us is summer in the southern hemisphere?”

Jason’s dark eyes widened. “Holy shit. Not Antarctica.”

“You can get there by boat.”

“Sam.”

He allowed himself a slight smile. “Monaco, Jason. They’re spending Christmas in Monaco.”

Jason slapped his large hands on Sam’s desk and grinned. “No shit.”

“I know.”

Just then they heard a familiar uneven step in the hallway.

Jason rose to his feet as Gabriel walked into the room. “Morning, sir,” he said, holding out the chair he’d just vacated.

“Jason.” Gabriel nodded. He glowered at Sam, then sank into the chair Jason offered.

“Hallway’s getting longer,” the old man grumbled. “It used to take me only a few steps to get to your office.”

“Morning, Gabriel,” Sam said, ignoring his grandfather’s complaints. He’d made the mistake of offering the use of a wheelchair once before and had nearly had his head chewed off.

“You’re out and about early,” he said instead.

“I’m looking for some information.” His grandfather stared at Jason. “Sit down. You’ll give me a crick in my neck if you just stand there.”

Jason winked at Gabriel. “Yes, sir.”

“My grandson works you too hard.”

“I think so.”

Gabriel muttered something under his breath and turned his attention back to Sam. “There’s a restaurant by the Four Seasons Hotel. Supposed to be a nice place. What do you know about it?”

Sam stared at his grandfather. “You’re eating out? You hate restaurants. Do you want to come stay with Kelly and me for a few days?”

As soon as he issued the invitation, he wanted to call it back. His need to be alone with Francesca grew exponentially every day. Having one more person in the house would only complicate an already difficult situation.

“I’m fine on my own,” Gabriel growled. “Why can’t a man go out to dinner once in a while?”

Jason made a choking sound. When Sam glanced at him, he seemed to be having some kind of spasm.

“You have a problem?” Gabriel snapped.

“No, sir.” Jason cleared his throat and straightened in his chair. “I’m familiar with that restaurant. It’s excellent. What kind of food does the lady like?”

Lady? Sam nearly fell out of his chair. “You have a date?” he asked his grandfather.

“I’m taking Mary-Margaret out for dinner, yes. Not that it’s any business of yours.”

Mary-Margaret? The pieces fell into place. “Grammy M?”

Gabriel glared at him. Sam would have sworn that the old man was blushing.

“She’s a fine figure of a woman,” Gabriel told him. “Been widowed for some time. She makes me laugh. No law against that.”

“None at all,” Sam agreed, more than a little impressed.

“I’m sure you’ll both be pleased by the restaurant,” Jason said.

“Good to know.” Gabriel pushed himself to his feet and leaned heavily on his cane. He headed for the door.

“You two get back to work,” he called over his shoulder.

Sam waited until his grandfather was out of earshot, then leaned back in his chair. “Who would have thought?”

Jason chuckled. “You should see the look on your face.”

“I don’t know what to think about my grandfather dating after all these years. On the other hand, I’m pleased to know the Reese family sports equipment works well into the golden years.”

16

E arly Monday morning Francesca walked out of her apartment only to find Brenna leaning against her truck. She slowed her step as she studied her twin. For once Brenna actually had a dress on, and makeup.

“This is a surprise,” Francesca said when she reached her twin.

Brenna shrugged. “I thought you might want company.”

Considering how quickly news traveled through the family, Francesca found it amazing that no one had said a word about a long-lost brother for nearly thirty years.

“Mom and Dad called last night,” Francesca said. “When did you find out they’d asked me to get in touch with Joe?”

“About fifteen minutes after they hung up. I didn’t think you’d want to go on your own.”

Francesca hadn’t, but after the fight they’d had in the vineyard, she’d been uncomfortable calling Brenna.

“You might have been right,” she said by way of apology.

Brenna raised her eyebrows. “About what specifically?”

Francesca pushed her toward the front of the truck. “Get in and I’ll grovel all the way to San Diego.”

Fifteen minutes later they were on the freeway, heading south.

“Didn’t you have Kelly this week?” Brenna asked.

Francesca nodded. “I had to call Sam last night and explain I couldn’t pick her up from ballet today. He’s taking her to work with him when she’s finished with class, which is a good thing. They can hang out together and bond. I’ll have her the rest of the week.”

Brenna glanced at her. “I’m guessing you haven’t spilled the beans about the little one yet.”

“Friday. I wanted to get through this week first.”

“Scared?”

“Terrified.” She smiled. “Because you were right. I do care about him. And don’t ask me to define what care means. He matters. That’s all I know.”

“The details aren’t important.” Brenna leaned back in her seat and sighed. “I love being right. It’s a good way to start the day.”

Francesca laughed. “Fine. If you’re so smart, have you figured out what we’re going to say to our big brother?”

“I haven’t a clue. Although I’ve considered the fact that we don’t want to piss him off. Joe Larson is a Navy Seal. Doesn’t the military train those guys to be killing machines? He can probably take us out with a cocktail napkin.”

“Tell me about it.”

Two and a half hours later they entered San Diego County. Brenna shifted uneasily in her seat. “Maybe this was a bad idea. Me coming along, I mean. I don’t know if I want to meet this guy, although I’m sure he’s going to be thrilled at the possibility of inheriting millions.”

“You really think Grandpa Lorenzo will offer Joe the winery and he’ll say yes?”

“Wouldn’t you? Even if he’s not interested in it, he can sell it and pocket the cash.”

“Grandpa Lorenzo wouldn’t let that happen.”

“I’m not so sure. I think he’ll be blinded by the thrill of finally having a male heir. It’s been his dream since we were kids. Regardless of how or where he was raised, Joe is family. You know what that means in our house.”

Francesca couldn’t argue. Family was everything. She still wasn’t used to the idea of having a brother. What would he be like? Would he be angry about being given up for adoption?

They entered the city. Thirty minutes later they pulled up into the hotel parking lot. Her parents had used a lawyer to arrange the meeting in the lobby-level coffee shop.

“Here goes nothing,” Brenna said as they climbed out of the car. “If I start to go for his throat, hold me back.”

“If he has all the training you claim and you go for his throat, he’ll be able to take care of himself.”

“Good point.”

They walked into the open hotel lobby. A small sign pointed the way to the café. The lush plant life and sound of a nearby fountain should have been soothing, but Francesca found herself fighting nerves. She placed a hand against her stomach.

Brenna squeezed her arm. “Me, too,” she admitted. “I’ve been trying to think of a funny opening line, but I can’t seem to get beyond ‘Hi.’ ”

“How about ‘Hi, I’m your sister.’ ”

Brenna rolled her eyes. “You’re the professional psychologist here. Wouldn’t you want me to be more subtle?”

“Maybe. But sometimes getting everything on the table is a better idea.”

They approached the café. The waiting area was empty. Brenna glanced at the chairs. “Want to sit down?”

“I can’t.”

“Me, either.”

They tried to make small talk. Francesca scanned the people in the lobby, looking for a dark-haired man with Marcelli features.

“Do you think we’ll recognize him from the picture? After all he could—”

Just then a man turned onto the path and approached the café. He was tall, dark-haired, and nearly the spitting image of their father. Francesca’s mouth went dry. Beside her Brenna sucked in a breath.

“I’d been hoping there was a mistake, but obviously there isn’t,” she murmured.

The man, well-built and handsome, wore jeans and a T-shirt. When he caught sight of them, he raised one eyebrow. His mouth curved up in a grin.

“Very nice,” he said when he was within earshot. “When that lawyer guy called and asked me to meet you here, I nearly blew him off. Glad I didn’t. Looks like my lucky day.”

Francesca blinked. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“You’re kidding, right?” Brenna told the man.

He grinned. “I’ve never done a threesome. But hey, I’m open to it.”

Francesca blanched.

Brenna simply smiled. “Joe Larson, in about two minutes you’re going to think that’s the most disgusting thing you’ve ever said.”

He didn’t look the least bit worried. “You two vice cops?”

“Worse. We’re your sisters.”

“But this is just an office,” Kelly said as she looked around the large open space of her father’s business. “I thought it would be…” She shrugged. “Different.”

Sam grinned. “Like the workshop in the James Bond movies?”

Kelly considered the question, then nodded. “Yeah. What about really cool machines and stuff? Things to help you take down the bad guys?”

“Sorry. These are just offices.”

“But you have to have, you know, like weapons and ray guns.”

His eyebrows rose. “Ray guns?”

“Didn’t you ever watch TV? There are a lot of secret weapons on the black market.”

“We try to keep our operations mostly legal.”

“Mostly, huh?” She smiled. “Want to tell me about the other parts?”

He pulled one of her curls. “Not even on a bet.”

At first Kelly had been kind of upset when Francesca had called to say she was going to San Diego to meet her brother. Sam had already let Doreen go and the new nanny wasn’t starting until next week. She’d been surprised when he’d told her he would bring her to work with him after her ballet lessons. Although she would never admit it, not even if she was tortured or threatened with a ray gun, she sort of liked hanging out with her dad. When he wasn’t being too domineering or stubborn. He could be nice.



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