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“You’re right,” she admitted. “Gio would have done all of that, because he loves Jazzy. Financially, he wouldn’t have even felt it. I mean, my grandfather was rich, but the Dettas are likeRichie Richrich. But I had to know I could make it on my own. Also, Gio has already done so much for me. I know he took care of Marco. Jazzy told me.” She looked him straight in the eye. “I know you volunteered to go after him.”
His jaw clenched when he was reminded of her uncle. The sick fucker he had chased until the gates of Hell. Or, in his case, a little town in France.
“You never have to worry about him again.”
“I know. Gio gave me closure, a peace of mind. I couldn’t ask him for more. Also, honestly, I don’t need more. I teach art class two days a week, and with the money I have left from my trust fund, that’s enough to get by. There are so many people who have much less. I get reminded of that every time I volunteer at the shelter. I’ve met people, single moms, who could barely feed their baby. I was blessed.”
“My mother was a single mom.” The words slipped out. He could see the questions in her eyes. Thankfully, the waiter chose that time to arrive with their food.
His plate revealed a piece of beef that might feed a toddler. He was about to order another plate—in fact, they should keep the micro beef coming—when he was met with another unpleasant surprise.
Some guy—slick hair, three-thousand-dollar suit—was standing next to their table, drooling over Mary.
“Mary?”
“Oh, hi, Josh.” She looked at Hector. “Um, this is—”
“Dr.Joshua McGraw, Mary’s ex-boyfriend.”
Hector accepted the extended hand, doing his best not to crush it. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t give a strong hold. He couldn’t hide a smirk when the good doctor winced.
“Hector Diaz. The fiancé.”
Josh blinked, and his eyes went to Mary’s ring finger. He then pointed at a table across the room. “Why don’t you two join me?”
“Oh, no really, we—” Mary started.
“Or, I can join you,” Josh said, his hand already on a chair at a nearby table.
Mary gave Hector an apologetic look. As usual, she was too damn polite. Luckily, he didn’t have that problem.
“How about you fucking don’t?”
This had Mr. Shiny Hair taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”
“You’ll be doing a lot more than begging when I shove my shoe up your ass. They’re new and shiny, just like your hair. I still need to break them in. And if you don’t get the fuck away from this table, I’ll break them in on your face.”
The good doctor turned a shady red, then a pasty pale. But he did leave—practically running—heeding Hector’s warning.
He turned his gaze back to Mary, about to apologize for embarrassing her when he found her chuckling.
“God, his face.”
Totally not what he’d expected. “I thought you’d be embarrassed, with your peers being here and all that crap.”
She rolled her eyes. “You bought shiny shoes for our date?”
“Tommie picked them.” The Smurf was a pain in the ass but did have his uses.
“Oh, I bet he loved that. Tell me you didn’t give him free range of your credit card.”
He snorted. “I wish I could tell you that. It was like giving candy to a toddler. The kid does love to spend my money.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Wish I could say the same. You should’ve seen the look on Achilles’ face when a courier stopped by this afternoon with more boxes from Neimann Marcus. I’m the proud owner now of not one butthreecashmere sweaters, and a dozen silk shirts.”
She laughed, almost in tears now. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. Honestly, I like you more G.I. Joe style.”