“Restroom?” I asked, looking around, taking in the layout of her home.
“Over there,” she replied, motioning to the left with her head.
I walked away, finding a hallway where she had pointed. I stopped when I passed an open door that held a bedroom. I didn’t think it was hers. It was all white and too plain for her tastes. I continued to the next room and found the Holy Grail.
This was Izzy’s bedroom. The walls were painted a deep red with black trim. Black curtains hung from the floor-to-ceiling windows. Along the opposite wall was a king-sized bed with black satin bedding. It wasn’t feminine, but totally her.
“Find it?” Her voice carried down the hallway, forcing me back into the hall.
“Yeah!” I yelled, and moved toward the last door on the right.
After I was done, I didn’t bother looking around before I headed back to find Izzy. She was standing in the kitchen, moving with ease, a coffee pot in hand.
“Want a cup before you head out?”
Look at Betty fuckin’ Crocker. “Sure,” I said, my voice uncertain.
“It’s the least I can do. I need you to make it back to my brother safely.”
“Well, I’m kind of hungry too.” I smiled, taking a seat at her breakfast bar.
“I don’t cook, and you’re pushing it.”
“I’ll grab something at the gas station down the street,” I responded, propping my chin on my hand and staring at her.
She blanched. “I have some leftovers from my mom’s place.” She opened the fridge and bent over to look through the contents.
It was a perfect ass shot. I grinned, watching her move.
“How about some pasta?” she asked with her head still stuck inside.
“Perfect.” I leaned back, looking away before she turned around. I wouldn’t fuck with pasta from Mrs. Gallo. Thomas always raved about it.
She pulled off the plastic wrap and splashed a bit of water on the plate before sticking it in the microwave. “Is my brother really okay, James?” she asked with her back to me.
I sighed, wishing I could fuck with her mind, but I wanted to put her at ease. “He’s doing okay, Izzy. He’s smart and tough. He’s made it deeper than any other agent.” I tapped my foot on the floor, feeling uncomfortable while trying to shovel a load of bullshit at her.
No one in the life was safe. It could all end without notice, in the blink of an eye.
“That doesn’t sound so promising.” The microwave beeped, and she grabbed the plate from inside. “Will he be done soon?” she asked as she placed the pasta in front of me.
“Hopefully. We’re trying to get him out ASAP, but you know your brother. He wants more. He’s never content.”
She grabbed a fork from the dish strainer and held it out to me. “That’s how all the Gallos are. We always want more.” She smiled.
“I’m counting on it, doll.” I snatched the fork from her hands before she could throw it at me. I knew she hated it, but I wanted to change the subject from Thomas to something that made me happy.
“Just eat and shut up.” She took the dishrag from the sink and wiped down the counters.
Shoving the first forkful in my mouth was sheer happiness. Even a couple of days old and dry, the taste exploded in my mouth. I hadn’t had homemade sauce this damn good since my grandmother passed years ago.
“Mmm,” I mumbled, taking another forkful. “I never pictured the domestic side of you.” I laughed, placing the noodles on my tongue.
“Someone has to clean. I do it all myself, except cook. That is my weakness. Never had the patience for that shit.”
Swallowing my food, I offered, “I could teach you.”
Her hand stilled as she looked at me with big eyes. “You cook?”
“I’ve been known to, yes. I’d love to get your mom’s recipe for this sauce.”
She shook her head and stared. “That is for Gallo family members only. It’s a closely guarded secret. So, what do you cook?” She leaned over the counter and gawked at me as I attacked the pasta.
“Anything you want. I had to learn to cook, being single. I couldn’t maintain this body and eat shit food all the time.”
“Interesting,” she mumbled, watching me shove the fork in my mouth. “Never took you as a Paula Deen.”
I laughed, almost choking on my food. “I think of myself as a better-looking version of Emeril.”
“His food is so damn good. I’ll never believe you can cook like that.”
“Someday you’ll find out.” I wiped my face after I inhaled the pasta.
She pulled my plate from the counter, setting it in the sink. “I won’t, but I’ll take you at your word.”