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She balked at the sight of the Range Rover’s elegant interior. “Oh, if you think I’m getting into a car with you, you’re out of your mind,” she said, laughing.
He shrugged and shut the door. “Tell me what you want to do.”
She crossed her arms. “You like pizza?” she asked him.
“Yeah, I like pizza.”
She started walking the other way. “Let’s get some pizza.”
She was trying the trick her boss used, the one where he stayed a step ahead of whomever wanted to talk to him so they to jog sideways alongside him to keep up. It didn’t work. In three steps he was walking alongside her. He had very long legs, and yes, he could move quite quickly when he wanted to.
“Do you always walk this fast?” he asked, sliding his eyes to the side and down to look at her.
“I’m cold,” she replied and realized it was true. The wind coming off the harbor had teeth in it.
“Come here,” he said, taking her elbow. She startled at his touch, but he didn’t seem to register it as he shifted her to the inside of the sidewalk where there was less wind and walked on the outside, blocking the gusts with his much larger frame.
“Thanks,” she said.
His eyes slid to the side again to look at her. “Why don’t you wear a warmer coat?” he asked.
“None of your beeswax,” she snapped.
It came out in reaction as if he’d been taunting her on the playground. She actually didn’t have a warmer coat at the moment. Not a nice one that she could wear to work. She had to make do for now, like she’d done when she was a kid, and had been taunted all the time for not having trendy clothes or warm enough coats. Or parents.
Cat had been in this situation before, and her rational mind knew that she’d get something more suitable after Christmas when hopefully she’d have sold her book proposal. But for right now, all she felt was cornered and like he was making fun of her.
“None of mybeeswax?” he repeated, his eyes scanning her in a way that was too keen for her comfort.
“It’s none of your business,” she replied in a much more in control way. He’d gotten under her skin, though, and the fact that he was frowning at her in a slightly worried way didn’t help.
It was starting to get dark and it wasn’t even five o’clock yet, but in Boston the sun crapped out in early November and didn’t get much higher than the tops of the buildings until March. It was almost December, and it was cold. Her teeth started to chatter.
She saw Cassiel glancing down at her repeatedly until he said, “Shit,” under his breath, and took off his coat. She had no idea what was going on until she felt warmth descend over her shoulders, accompanied by a honey-and-wood scent that she instantly liked. She stopped dead, realizing what he’d done.
“What are you doing!” she yelled at him.
“Freezing myballsoff because you don’t know how to dress properly!” he yelled back. She tried to take the coat off and give it to him. He put a hand on the small of her back and pushed her forward. “Oh, no. It’s too late to give it back,” he said testily. “I’m already cold. Just keep it until we get there.”
She sped up, pulling away from the hand he’d placed on her for the last few paces. “It’s right here,” she said, just as testily as he had, and then she reached out and pulled the door open.
Pie-zanno’swas a little dive of a pizza and pasta joint that had really great food. Nothing fancy, and if you wanted wine, be prepared to say goodbye to the top layer of your tooth enamel because it was like drinking battery acid, but no one went there for awful chianti.
She went to the counter and saw a familiar face back there. “Hey Jimmy,” she called out to him. He was in his fifties, and he’d never been thin, rich, or good-looking, but he had a nice twinkle in his eye and he loved two things. Pizza and people. Jimmy was old neighborhood, and he liked it that way.
“Hey Cat,” he called back, eyeing Cassiel warily. “What ‘cha got goin’ on there?”
She took off the overcoat and handed it to Cassiel. “Not much. You got a fresh pie coming out?”
Jimmy looked at her warily. “Nothing but the usual.”
“I don’t want anything weird,” she said, and he smiled with relief.
He gestured to Cassiel. “What happened to that guy who asked for truffle oil?” he said, giving her grief. “You toss him yet?”
“Why, you interested?” she replied. Because everyone in the old neighborhood liked to get into it about Ashton.
“Alright, alright,” he said, laying off. He looked at Cassiel. “Pepperoni good ‘nuff for you?” he asked.
