Chapter 9 - THE FIRST REAL DATE
Daniel found me crying in the back room of Maple Street Books.
I hated that he'd seen me cry so often.
I hated even more that I was beginning to feel safe enough to do it.
He sat beside me.
“Sarah called.”
I nodded.
“She thinks Mom was murdered.”
Daniel was silent.
I looked at him.
“Say something.”
He took a breath.
“I'm sorry.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“I know.”
“Doesn't change anything.”
“No.”
I wiped my face.
“I don't know what to do with all this anger.”
Daniel looked at me.
“You don't have to turn it into something useful today.”
I stared.
He continued.
“Sometimes anger is just anger.”
I leaned against him.
He put an arm around my shoulders.
For a while, we sat in silence.
***
Three days later, Daniel asked me to dinner.
I laughed.
“Another blind date?”
“No.”
“Another restaurant where everyone knows your name?”
“No.”
“Another evening involving organized crime?”
He considered.
“I'll do my best.”
I smiled.
“Where?”
“There's a little Italian place near the harbor.”
“Expensive?”
“Not particularly.”
“Good.”
He hesitated.
“Emily, this is a real date.”
My heart skipped.
“I know.”
“Not part of the investigation.”
“I know.”
“And you can say no.”
I looked at him.
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“Yes, you'll say no?”
“Yes, I'll go.”
***
The restaurant was small.
Warm.
Filled with the smell of garlic and fresh bread.
The owner greeted Daniel like an old friend.
Nobody stared.
Nobody whispered.
For the first time, I saw Daniel outside the shadow of his reputation.
He talked about growing up in South Boston.
About his mother teaching him to cook.
About Hannah stealing his baseball cards.
About the years after she disappeared.
He admitted things I hadn't expected.
“I inherited businesses I shouldn't have.”
I looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
“My father was involved in organized crime.”
“I know.”
“I spent years trying to separate the legitimate companies from the rest.”
“Did you succeed?”
“Not completely.”
I appreciated the honesty.
“Why tell me?”
“Because you deserve to know who you're sitting with.”
I looked at him.
“Are you still involved?”
He hesitated.
“Some people still expect favors from me. Some businesses still carry obligations I inherited.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It is.”
“Then why not leave?”
He looked down.
“Because walking away doesn't erase the people who depend on you.”
I thought about the employees.
The families.
The people who worked in his clubs and shipping companies.
“Are you trying to change things?”
“Yes.”
“Then keep trying.”
He looked at me.
“You make it sound simple.”
“It isn't.”
I smiled.
“But neither is running a bookstore.”
He laughed.
***
After dinner, we walked along the harbor.
The wind was cold.
Daniel offered his coat.
This time, I accepted.
He looked pleased.
“Progress.”
“Don't get used to it.”
He smiled.
Then we stopped beneath a streetlamp.
The water reflected the city lights.
Daniel looked at me.
“Emily.”
“Yes?”
“I want to kiss you.”
My heart raced.
“Then ask.”
He smiled.
“May I kiss you?”
I stepped closer.
“Yes.”
The kiss was gentle.
Warm.
Unhurried.
For the first time in years, I kissed someone without wondering whether he was already planning to leave.
When we separated, Daniel rested his forehead against mine.
“Was that okay?”
I smiled.
“Better than okay.”
***
The next morning, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A woman's voice whispered:
“Emily Carter?”
“Yes?”
“My name is Grace Ellis.”
I stopped breathing.
“Grace?”
“Please don't tell Daniel yet.”
My heart raced.
“Why?”
“Because I don't know who I can trust.”
I looked toward the bookstore window.
“Where are you?”
A long silence.
Then she whispered:
“I'm hiding.”
“From whom?”
“My father.”
I frowned.
“Your father?”
“Thomas Vale.”
May you like
The line went dead.
---
