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“But—” Bianca said leadingly, knowing there was abutcoming.
“But we don’t know what he’s doing. We can’t find his case,” Gabriel said. “I have some pretty good connections at the bureau, and they’ve come up empty on this guy. Except to say he’s one hell of an agent. Apart from that, they have no idea what he’s working on.”
“Cass told me that already,” she replied, stirring her chowder.
“Well, doesn’t that bother you?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Elias told me there were going to be things that he couldn’t tell me. And I had to decide if I was okay with that.”
“And are you?”
For some reason, she had to really think about that.
The food was excellent and their table was close, but not too close, to a jazz set being played by an extremely good band of buskers who were almost certainly students at either Berklee or the New England Conservatory of Music. Despite the great food and the wonderful atmosphere, Bianca suddenly couldn’t swallow.
“Honestly? What he does scares me a little. He carries a gun—and I know people see them on TV all the time, but he actually wears one. On his body. And when I see it, I think about him firing it.” She paused and listened to the buskers bringing home the old jazz standardBlue Moon. “But even though he’s always got this dangerous thing on him, I know he’d never turn it on me. It’s the same with all his secrets. He’ll always have them, but I know he’d never use them to hurt me.”
Uncle Gabriel sat back in his chair, a quirky, assessing smile on his face that he got sometimes, usually when he was thinking ten steps ahead of the person across from him. It widened into his true smile. The one that Bianca knew meant he loved her.
“Okay, Bumble Bee,” he said. “I believe you.”
They talked about less volatile things for the next hour while they ate, and walked, and got sweets, both of them agreeing that they loved Abbe and were keeping her even if Rafe blew it, though neither of them thought he would.
“He’s going to marry that girl,” he said under his breath. “He’snot the problem. She’s the one with commitment issues.”
By the way, he said it, Bianca got the feeling that her uncle had some experience with that. It was one of her rare glimpses of her uncle as a man, and not just as an older relative. She, of course, wanted to hear more, but he changed the subject to her online classes. He was very supportive of her taking more, and even reminded her that when she was a little girl, she wanted to be a veterinarian.
“I can’t believe you don’t remember. It was only eleven or twelve years ago,” Gabriel said, gesturing with his cup of hot chocolate as they strolled back to his waiting car. “Your father had a stake in a couple of racehorses. We could never get you out of the barn.”
Now that he mentioned it, Bianca did remember. “But then Dad died,” she said, frowning at the cobblestones as they walked along. “And everything changed.”
“Everything changed when Michael died,” he agreed in a subdued tone. He put his arm around her and stole her hot chocolate, taking a swing. “Why is yours so much better than mine?”
“Maybe because you had yours made skinny style?” she teased, poking him in his washboard abs. “Aren’t men your age supposed to let themselves go?”
“Menmyage?” he asked, pretending to be offended. “I’m only forty-two!”
Bianca teased him all the way back to her place.
After her uncle dropped her off, Bianca decided to try on her dress for the fundraiser again and choose her accessories. The jewelry was easy. She had a sapphire set that she knew would be perfect when she picked out the gown, but she had a go through her collection of shoes until she found the right ones to go with it.
She had her choices narrowed down to two pairs, and she was trying them both on at the same time. She had one strappy crystal-embellished pair of Jimmy Choo’s on one foot, and a simple stiletto style of Louboutin’s on the other when she got a third call from a blocked number.
She ignored it, as she had ignored the other two blocked calls she’d gotten that day. But this time, the ringing was immediately followed by a knock on her front door. It was almost ten o’clock at night. The knocking continued, and Bianca went downstairs to her front door anxiously. She paused just on the other side of the door, listening.
“Bianca, it’s me. I know you’re home,” Elias said on the other side of the door. She opened it, relieved to see that it was him. He didn’t look happy to see her. He looked angry. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?” he demanded.
“I didn’t know if it was you or not,” she replied, her temper flaring, and rightly so. “I’ve been getting a lot of blocked calls lately from peopleyoutold me not to speak to.”
“Oh,” he said, chastened but still upset. “I was worried about you.” He looked her up and down, his face softening. “You look beautiful,” he said quietly. Then he noticed her two different shoes and grinned, rolling his eyes like he should have expected her to do something goofy like that. “Is that a new trend?”
She looked down and chuckled. “Oh yeah. Better not do this tomorrow night,” she hopped from foot to foot, clowning around. “Which one? The Jimmy Choo’s, or the Louboots?” she asked, offering him each shoe in turn.
“I like the first pair. The one with the jewels,” he said, still staring at her with a dreamy smile on his face. His warm expression suddenly clouded. “You have to answer when I call you,” he said sternly.
She huffed, frustrated. “Then can you call me from a number that’snotblocked for a change? Do you even have one of those?”
“Yes. Give me your phone,” he said, holding out his hand.
