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Cesare was Italian. He carried a gun. His friend was shot. It wasn’t much of a leap to assume that he was involved in the mafia in some way. And so, unfortunately, was Maggie.
Though she was now blissfully happy with her new life—one that included an adorable baby and three handsome men—our friendship had cooled slightly. I just couldn’t understand her fascination with one man like that, let alone three.
Though I didn’t know all the details of her new life, I knew she was involved in that world, not just her men. If anyone would know something about Cesare, she would.
But I didn’t reach out. Maggie had a whole new life. A new purpose, even. Being a mother to her daughter was part of it, but there was more. She had money and power now, and though it came from dark origins, she was using it for good.
She’d repurposed a property from her late father’s estate and had made it into a shelter for abused women and children. It was admirable, but at the same time, it meant that she hardly had any time for herself. Between being a mother and caring for the people in that shelter, she hadn’t had time for much else this year. We exchanged the occasional text, but we didn’t see each other very often anymore.
Perhaps if we had, it would’ve been easier to bridge the rift that had developed between us. I hadn’t hidden my disapproval very well when she’d fallen for those mafiosos. While I missed her and loved her, I still couldn’t shake my feelings about her situation.
So no, I couldn’t reach out to her, at least not yet.
That didn’t leave any other obvious choices. This wasn’t something I could talk to my coworkers at the hospital about. Perhaps Zoey? But the singer, who I’d known for years, was currently on tour. She was even busier than Maggie, and it had been ages since the three of us had hung out together.
After finishing scrubbing the burners, I intended to go through the half-sized fridge to see if anything needed to be thrown out, but instead I found myself on my phone, flipping through my pictures until I found the one my subconscious clearly wanted me to find.
It was a name, written in rough handwriting. A name and a phone number. Taking a picture of that part of the patient intake form wasn’t a privacy violation, I told myself. Cesare himself had told me I could call him if I ever needed anything. That was his way of thanking me for taking care of Leo.
But I didn’t need anything. Except maybe answers.
Before I could stop myself, I entered the numbers on the keypad. I’d looked at the photo so often in the last few days that I’d inadvertently memorized his number. I’d typed it in a few times, too, but I’d never pressed send… until now.
My pulse sped up as it rang. And rang. And then a gruff voice answered.
“Yeah?”
It was just one syllable, but it was enough to make me remember how it felt when he’d held me. It was enough to make my skin flush.
“Um, hi. I don’t know if you remember me, but I work at the hospital. My name’s Piper.”
“I remember you,” he said, and for a moment, I felt cheered up by that news. Then he continued on. “Leonardo won’t shut up about you.”
Oh. That made me happy, too, but in a slightly different way. “How’s he feeling?”
“Doing well,” Cesare said. He was a man of few words. “Is that why you called?”
“No, I…” It was impossible to finish that sentence since I didn’t even understand why I’d contacted him.
“Is this about me threatening the doctor?”
“No, it’s—wait, you threatened a doctor?”
“No.” Cesare’s instant denial made me shake my head in confusion. And I made a mental note to check with Dr. Baines to see what had happened. Then Cesare cleared his throat. “Is there something I can help you with, Piper?”
“I just—I just want to understand what happened that night,” I managed, my voice hoarse.
There was silence for a moment. “It’s probably best if you just forget that night. It’s not the kind of situation you want to ask questions about.” There was a note of warning in his voice, but his words didn’t come across as a threat.
“Not about the situation. About… about what I did.”
“You mean kissing me?” Cesare’s deep voice held a note of surprise. “You did what you had to to keep your patient safe. To keep all of us safe.”
“That’s how it started,” I said absently and then wished I could have bit back my words.
Cesare chuckled. “But not how it ended? If that’s what you want to talk about, feel free.”
I bit my lip, trying to gather my thoughts. “I just—I don’t know why I did that. I don’t know you or your friends, and I hate guns. I can’t stand them. But… somehow, for a moment, I kind of forgot.”
