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“She gets it from our mom,” Will says, making a left off Broad Street.
“Where are we going? The supermarket is in the opposite direction.”
“I’m stopping at the butcher. Mia likes the veal from the Italian place over here.”
“I take it I’m making veal parmesan for dinner.”
He nods. “Mia will love it. She’s too skinny. She needs a decent meal. I think she lives off bags of junk food, tap water, and the free coffee she gets from work. And the Chinese place below her apartment… when she can afford it. She’s too damn proud to ask for a handout, even though I’d give her anything she wants.”
So would I. Anything.
I feel this odd sense of responsibility for Mia. If my circumstances were different ten years ago, I would have taken care of her. I wouldn’t have run away to deal with the mess I’d made.
I glance out the window as we drive through South Philly. “We shouldn’t go out tonight. I still have a hangover.”
“Since when do you turn down a chance to party? We don’t have to drink, but my sister needs to get out of the house. If Mia’s not working, she sits at home and watches movies or reads old newspaper articles. That’s not normal for someone her age.”
“N
o, that’s definitely not normal. But Mia is a big girl. She can take care of herself.”
Will parallel parks in front of the butcher shop and turns off the engine. He glances over at me, frustrated not with me but with his sister. “You saw how well she’s taking care of herself. Her job pays shit, and she refuses to take any money from me. That girl has too much pride. The least we can do while we’re staying with her is feed her and show her a good time.”
I could show her a good time, all right.
“Don’t do that.” Will points at me with a disapproving expression on his face. “You have that creepy look about you like you’re up to no good.”
I want his sister under me, on top of me, on her knees, and in my bed. Yeah, I’d say that counts as being up to no good. Will would kill me for having these thoughts about his sister. I can control myself, I think. Maybe staying with Mia was a horrible idea. We should find another place to live, but this could be a fresh start for Mia and me. There are a whole lot of maybes rolling around in my head.
“Nope.” I wink. “I’m down with the plan. Let’s show Mia some fun.”
She can use it.
Unlike my luxury apartment that overlooks the Camden Waterfront, Mia’s place is a three-floor walk-up in the middle of Center City. The entire building smells of the Chinese food that wafts up the stairs from the restaurant on the ground floor, which is now mixing with the delicious scent of my Italian cooking.
As I open the oven door to check on the veal, I hear Mia drop her keys in the hallway and curse loudly. I can’t help but laugh.
A few seconds later, Mia comes crashing through the front door and throws the grungy messenger bag she carries everywhere on the floor.
She tips her nose up to the ceiling, her eyes wide as she glances over at me. “You’re cooking dinner? Wow!”
“Why do you look so surprised?”
“I had no idea you still cooked. I figured by now you’d have a personal chef making your meals since you’re rich.”
I was always rich.
She walks into the kitchen and hops up on the counter, surveying my body. Either she doesn’t care that she’s blatantly checking me out or she doesn’t realize she’s doing it. Will would have a stroke if he saw the way we’re looking at each other right now.
“I’m full of surprises, princess.” I wink at her and then turn around to stir the sauce in the pot.
Mia scoots closer to the stove and looks down at the pot. “It smells amazing. I can’t even remember the last time I had food that didn’t come from a bag or the Chinese restaurant downstairs.”
“I figured as much. This dinner was Will’s idea. You can thank him for taking pity on you.”
She snorts. “I don’t want your sympathy. I live the way I do by choice, thank you very much. Food is overrated, and so are hot men who can cook.”
“Don’t let Will hear you say that.” I raise the wooden spoon from the pot and blow on it before putting it in front of Mia’s mouth. “Taste it.”
