“How was your day? You spend it with your mom?” he asked.
“Some of it. We had lunch, did a little shopping. Before that, I worked on a speech I’m giving next week. Didn’t get very far, but it was better than yesterday.”
“What happened yesterday? Bad flight?”
“The flight was fine. It was this Asshole in a Blue Blazer. He bugged me in the airport when I was drinking my coffee. Kept up such a racket on the plane I couldn’t work. Then, when I hauled my suitcase off the luggage belt, I accidently hit him with it, so he swore at me and pushed me aside to get to the taxi stand.”
“Yo, welcome to Philly.” He raised his glass in a mock toast.
“My thoughts exactly. But as long as he’s somewhere in the Delaware Valley other than here, I’m good.” She took another sip of her drink. “That’s enough about him. Tell me how your family is.”
For most of the next hour he entertained her with stories about the antics of his nieces and nephews and they talked about their jobs. Then, looking at his watch and their empty glasses, he said, “We’ve got time for a short refill. Want me to pour?”
“We may need more ice.” She went to the bar and checked. “If you’ll get some, I’ll pour. It’s down the hall to the right,” she said as she handed him the ice bucket.
After he left, she propped the door open, dumped the melting ice out of their glasses and pulled out the Scotch bottle. When he returned, she heard the door close and felt him come up behind her.
“You shouldn’t leave a hotel door open like that, Margo. It’s not safe.” He rested his hand on her back as he reached around her to put the container on the bar.
“Oh, I’m perfectly safe,” she said, tilting her head back so she could see him. “I know people in law enforcement.”
“Lucky you,” he said. With his forefinger he moved a few strands of hair aside and kissed her shoulder at the base of her neck. His mouth was still cool from the drink and it made her shiver. At least, that’s what she blamed. At first. But when he slid his hands around her waist, and her pulse spiked, taking her breathing along for the ride, it was obvious that it wasn’t just ice making her tremble. And she was sure if he did what she thought he was about to do, they’d never make it to the reunion on time.
“Maybe,” she said, “we should skip the second drink and leave?” She took a deep breath and faced him. “So we’re not late?” She could hear the lack of conviction in her voice and wondered if he could, too.
He touched the tip of her nose with his finger. “If that’s what you want, sugar,” he murmured, “we’ll go.” He leaned in and brushed his lips across her cheek. She was left holding an empty glass, surprised at how disappointed she was that he’d agreed and wondering why the hell she’d objected anyway.
Chapter 3
Two steps into the restaurant where the reunion dinner was being held and Margo was sure she’d gone through a time warp. The smells of tomato sauce, oregano, garlic and yeasty bread brought back long-forgotten pizza dates. Music she remembered from the senior prom was playing. The place was full of vaguely familiar-looking people with very familiar names on their nametags.
At the registration table, Joe delGiorno and Mary Margaret O’Brian delGiorno were checking people in. They’d married right after graduation and overseen every reunion , as well as a family of five kids, ever since. After Joe handed Tony his nametag and checked his name off a list, Tony asked “wine or Scotch?” and headed off for the wine she requested. Margo searched for her nametag in the middle of what was once apparently an alphabetized display, now not so organized.