Luck Be a Lady - Cathie Linz [54]
“Oh, no! I told him not to do that.”
“For all the good it did.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ll speak to him again.”
He gave her a mocking look. “Yeah, that’ll work.”
She gave him a librarian look, the one full of power and reprimand. “You didn’t have to come all the way over here to tell me this. You could have just called me.”
“I wanted to see your face when I asked you about it. To see if you were lying or not.”
“I’m not lying!”
He made some noncommittal noise. Wait a second, was that his stomach growling? She gazed down at his washboard tummy covered with a chambray blue shirt tucked into dark pants. “When was the last time you ate?”
“I had something from the vending machines at the station.”
As if on cue, the pizza delivery guy stepped out of the elevator. She handed the box of Giordano’s deep-dish to Logan while she signed for the pizza, and tip, to be charged to her credit card.
“You might as well come in while you’re here,” she told Logan.
He gave the box he was holding a yearning look before shaking his head. “I’ve got to go. I just wanted to see if you were behind your uncle’s visit.”
“I wasn’t. How could you even think that?” She paused after catching sight of a neighbor walking down the hallway. A very nosy neighbor. Grabbing a handful of his shirt, she tugged Logan and her pizza into her apartment before quickly shutting the door.
“I’m guessing you’re not used to men turning down your invitations to come in?” he noted dryly.
“I don’t issue that many invitations.”
Smudge meowed as if confirming that statement.
“Nice cat.” He set the pizza box onto her rustic dining table in order to lean down and pet Smudge. “I had a black cat named Trouble. He died a few years ago of old age.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why? Trouble had a good life.” He straightened. “I should be going,” he said abruptly, as if regretting sharing that piece of personal information with her.
“Come on. Stay. I can’t eat all this pizza by myself.”
“Then why did you order it?”
“I was depressed at the time.”
“Why? What happened?”
“I talked to my dad.”
“I’m guessing from the look on your face and the size of that pizza that it didn’t go well.”
“He didn’t really give me any straight answers. Just said he was trying to protect me.”
“From what?”
“He wouldn’t say.” She stepped into the kitchen to gather plates, cutlery and napkins before returning and setting everything on the table. “I asked, but he wouldn’t be specific. He did confess that he’d paid off my mother to stay away. Here, eat.” She handed him a plate with a two-inch-high piece of deep-dish pizza on it.
“Bossy much?”
She took the plate back. “If you don’t want it ...”
He grabbed the plate and gave her a hot look. “Oh, I want it, all right.”
She nearly dumped the piece she was trying to serve onto the table, so distracted was she by his husky voice and bad-boy look.
“I haven’t had any luck finding out anything more about my mom,” she said.
“I still think it’s strange that there is so little information about her. She’s not listed on any wanted lists, no-fly lists or terrorist watch groups,” he said.
Her eyes widened as she looked at him.
“What? I’m a detective. Being suspicious is part of my job. Surely I’ve mentioned that before.”
“Yes. I never thought she might be a criminal or something. I asked my dad if she was an evil person and he said no.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I don’t know.” She ate a bite of pizza before elaborating. “I think I believe his answer, but lately I’m suspicious of everything he says.” She shot him a teasing look. “Maybe that’s from hanging around with you.”
“Hey, don’t blame me. You were suspicious before I met you. At least, you were suspicious the second I walked in on your cousin’s wedding.”
“You didn’t just walk in, you tried to stop it. Faith had already had one wedding go bad. I wasn’t about to let another one go down the drain.”
“You’re protective of the people you