Penne Dreadful

by Catherine Bruns

  “But Andy and I are just friends, Rico,” she insisted in a sugary voice. “He comes in here for pizza, like, every day.”

  “That ain’t what I heard,” the man grunted. “I got my watchdogs, babe, and don’t like what they’ve been telling me. I find out you’re cheating and the wedding’s off. Capisce?”

  “Of course, sugar,” she assured him. “You know that you’re the only guy for me.” She leaned forward, chucked him under the chin, and giggled. “The only slice of pizza I want on my plate.”

  How eloquent. Maybe she could sell that line to Hallmark.

  He gripped her face possessively between his hands. “I’d better be, sweet stuff. You don’t want to piss me off.”

  “Sure.” Izzy’s laugh sounded a bit apprehensive.

  They started kissing again. The sight was disturbing to watch, and before I could turn away, Izzy glanced toward the door and saw me.

  “Can we help you, Tessa?”

  Busted. Resigned, I pushed the door open all the way and gave a small wave. “Sorry to interrupt. I was looking for your father.”

  “He had to go out.” Izzy got off Rico’s lap and readjusted her blouse. I hated to think what else they might have been doing before I arrived.

  Izzy gestured at her fiancé, who also rose to his feet and was now staring down at the iPhone in his hand. “Rico, baby, this is our newest employee, Tessa. Tessa Esposito.”

  I loved how everyone around here had to put special emphasis on my last name.

  As expected, Rico’s head jerked up at the word. He gave Izzy a quizzical look as I stuck my hand out. “Nice to meet you, Rico.”

  The dark eyes that met mine were filled with such intense hostility that I took an abrupt step back. Not missing a beat, Rico reached forward and grabbed my fingers in a tight hold. For someone whose family supposedly had a great deal of money, Rico looked like he might have been lying in a gutter somewhere. His blue jeans were full of holes, his black Metallica T-shirt threadbare. He wore his hair in a scraggly ponytail that hung down his back and sported a diamond piercing in his nose and a gold hoop above his bushy left eyebrow. For some reason, when I’d conjured up a mental image of Rico, I’d envisioned a man similar to Dylan—professional looking, in a three-piece suit. Boy, had I missed the mark on that one.

  “Esposito.” He frowned as he said the word and released my hand. “You any relation to—”

  Izzy grinned. “Yep. See, I told you he was married.”

  He looked me up and down, then snorted. “If he had you at home, why was he always hounding my Izzy for a date?”

  Izzy’s face turned pink, and her bottom lip poked out. “It’s like I said, baby, he was greedy. Always wanting more.”

  I knew she was lying but decided to hold my tongue.

  Rico leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth. “Well, you are super sexy.” He turned to glare at me. “Can’t say I’m sorry to see him gone. He bothered my girl, which means he bothered me.” He smirked. “No offense.”

  This guy was making my skin crawl. Why was Izzy lying to him about Dylan being interested in her? Because it was really the other way around? All I wanted was to disappear and let them return to their groping session. In an attempt to avoid the venom in Rico’s eyes, I focused my attention on Izzy. “Will your father be back soon?”

  Izzy leaned against the desk and studied her manicure. “He ran over to the post office, so it should be any time now.”

  “Come on.” Rico grabbed her elbow. “Walk me out. I told my buddy Frankie we’d play some video games this afternoon. You wanna come along?”

  Izzy ran her hands up and down the front of his shirt. “I’ll meet you later. I gotta wait till Pop gets back.” She gave him a wet kiss, then stood at the door with a wide grin splitting her face, waving as he roared off in his sports car. She turned around, and the fake smile disappeared as her eyes narrowed at me.

  “Okay, now that Rico’s gone, we can talk freely.”

  So now she wanted to make conversation. “Talk about what?”

  “Why are you really working here?” she spat out. “I’ve heard you’ve been going around poking your nose into our business. You’ve got something up your sleeve. And why on earth would my father hire you when he knows how I felt about that despicable husband of yours?”

  Apparently, she didn’t realize that Anthony planned to make a few bucks off my tomato sauce. Something else was clearly going on. I arranged my expression into a knowing smile, hoping to bluff my way to the truth. “I think you know why.”

  She scanned me up and down critically. “Dylan kept secrets, you know. He probably didn’t want to upset you.”

  I bit into my lower lip. Yes, he did keep secrets. No one knew that better than me. Was I about to learn something else earth-shattering about my husband? I steeled myself against her squeaky voice. “Dylan and I talked about everything.”

  She flinched slightly, and then I knew I’d struck a nerve. “Everything.” I repeated the word with emphasis and waited to see if she’d take the bait.

  She pursed her lips and scowled. “What did he tell you about me? Huh?”

  I racked my brain trying to figure out what secret Dylan could’ve known about her and then remembered what Butchy had said. It was so obvious that I chuckled. “You’re quite friendly with other men, aren’t you?”

  Izzy’s eyes widened in amazement. “You have them, don’t you? The pics he took?” She crossed the few paces between us like a cat and grabbed my wrist. “Where are they? Do you know how much money we gave that greedy jerk to stay quiet? I want those pictures!”

  Jackpot. Last chance if you want the pictures. $50,000 is the lowest I’ll go. So Dylan wasn’t blackmailing Anthony at all—Izzy had been his target. I tried to shake her hand loose. “Let go of me!”

  “He told you, right? He told you that he saw me with—” She clamped a hand over her mouth. “My dad knows all about it. He took care of the situation, so don’t try to hit him up for any more money.”

  What did she mean, he took care of the situation? Had Anthony killed Dylan over the blackmailing?

  Izzy’s phone buzzed. She stared down at the screen, typed out a quick reply, and then narrowed her eyes at me. “I’ll deal with you later. If you see my father, tell him I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She exhaled loudly, kicked the door open with a high heel, and stomped outside.

  I blew out a shaky breath. The restaurant was eerily quiet, and I was completely alone. That was fine with me, since I needed some time to collect my thoughts.

  The back door to the kitchen opened, and Anthony walked in, whistling a tune. The noise stopped abruptly when he saw me.

  “Hello, Tessa.” His eyes were cold and untrusting, different from before, and I wondered if Butchy had told him about my snooping yesterday.

  “Hi, Anthony.” My voice sounded too cheery and fake to my own ears. “I’ll get started on another pot of tomato sauce right away.”

  Anthony grunted. “We need a twenty-four-cut pepperoni pizza for one o’clock. There’s fresh dough in the prep area.” He turned and walked into the office without another word to me, and his sudden change in attitude spoke volumes. I had a strange feeling that my days at Slice were numbered.

  The back door of the kitchen opened, and Izzy sauntered back in. She shot me a surly look and went into her father’s office. I cocked my head in that direction but couldn’t hear anything. I was about to walk over and put my ear against the wall when the back door opened again and Sam rushed in, along with a gust of cold wind. He nodded at me, his face coloring in embarrassment. “Hi.”

  “You’re early,” I said. “We haven’t had any calls yet.”

  He stared down at the floor. “Yeah, but Anthony wants me to do some cleaning in the cooler first.”

  I tried to put his mind at ease. “Look, let’s forget about yeste
rday, okay? I was upset about my husband’s accident.” Every time I said the word accident, I cringed.

  Sam looked at me expectantly, as if waiting for the punch line. “Sure,” he said. “No problem.”

  “Hey, I didn’t know you and Izzy were such good friends.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah. So? She hangs out with all us delivery guys.”

  “But you two seemed particularly friendly at the wake.” I shot him a knowing look, but his expression was blank. “She’s older than you. Worldlier than you…” More dishonest and sneakier than you. I smiled pleasantly. “I’m only trying to look out for you. Be careful, okay?”

  He frowned. “Careful? Izzy only acts tough. She’s got a soft side.”

  That was difficult to imagine. “How would you know? She’s engaged to be married.”

  A muscle worked on his jawbone. “Yeah, but like I said, we’re friends. Didn’t you have guy friends while you were married?”

  Justin immediately came to mind, and I almost smiled. “Of course.” My tone softened. “It’s good to have friends, right?”

  “Absolutely. I’d do anything for my friends.” He fiddled nervously with the gold chain he wore around his neck. “I suppose you want to know what we were talking about at the wake, huh?” When I nodded, an amused expression brightened his face. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re nosy?”

  When he started to laugh, I joined in. “A few people. Sorry, guess I’m a naturally inquisitive person.”

  Sam shrugged. “No big deal. I have a friend who trains doves, and Izzy wants some for her big day.”

  I cocked an eyebrow in his direction. “Doves?”

  He grinned. “Yeah, doves. You know, the white birds people use at their wedding sometimes?”

  I shot him a quizzical look. “Izzy was discussing her wedding plans with you?”

  “Not exactly,” Sam said. “Izzy was hoping I could get her a discount on the birds. She wants to have them released when she and Rico exchange their I dos. Funny, I didn’t think money would be an issue since Rico’s rolling in the dough. Guess everyone likes a deal.”

  I choose my words carefully. “So, if you did this for Izzy, what was in it for you?”

  His eyes lit up like a little kid’s. “She said Rico would let me take his sports car for a night. You know, I could impress my girl with it. Hey, what guy doesn’t like fast cars, right?” He gave me a reassuring smile, opened the door to the cooler, and disappeared inside.

  I was tempted to follow him with more questions, but the steady murmur of voices in Anthony’s office grew louder. I crossed the kitchen and pressed my ear up against the door.

  Izzy’s voice rang out loud and clear. “They need the balance by the end of this week. Call and give them your credit card number. I won’t have you stressing me out like this. I have enough on my mind.”

  Anthony sounded frustrated. “You said twenty grand before, and now it’s doubled? What have you changed, Izzy?”

  “We decided to go with an open bar for the entire night and not just the bottom shelf—that looks too cheap. Prime rib and lobster are the main entrées, and we’re having the dessert buffet too. Remember?”

  “Sweetheart,” Anthony protested. “I don’t have that much cash on me right now. I’ll need a few more days. Rico’s family has a lot more money than I do. This is chump change to them, so why aren’t they paying for anything?”

  Izzy snorted. “You know that the father of the bride always pays, so you’d better find a way to come up with the dough. This is my day, and I won’t have it ruined. Work your magic, if you get my drift.”

  Anthony’s tone became angry. “Keep your voice down. I don’t want others to hear us.”

  He must have meant me.

  “The caterer needs the money now,” Izzy insisted. “Don’t disappoint me. You only get married once.”

  Anthony cackled out loud. “This is your old man you’re talking to. I know you don’t love Rico. You only care about his money. That’s why you wanted Esposito out of the way.”

  “He was blackmailing me!” she said angrily. “Of course I wanted him taken care of. Dylan threatened to tell Rico I was cheating on him.”

  Did Izzy have Dylan killed, or had her father done the deed for her?

  “Lower your voice,” Anthony said sharply.

  “You’re so weak,” she continued. “Instead of firing him, you kept him around. And now his wife is working here? What’s the matter with you?”

  “I know what I’m doing, Izzy. Dylan was taken care of,” he said in a reasonable tone. “Besides, I need Tessa. That sauce of hers is a gold mine. She’s also got—”

  “I don’t care. She has to go,” Izzy insisted. Her voice became louder, and I was afraid she might open the door at any second. I backed away, my knees threatening to buckle under me, and grabbed the work station to steady myself.

  I studied the ingredients in the prep table, a desperate attempt to look busy in case Anthony or Izzy appeared. My mind was racing in a dozen different directions. Did Izzy rig Dylan’s car because he’d blackmailed her? Somehow, I couldn’t picture Izzy with her tight jeans and French-manicured nails opening a car hood, but perhaps someone else had done it for her, like Rico or her father. Maybe another lover? It was clear why Anthony had hired me—for my sauce. By now he must have realized it was too dangerous to keep me around, especially if Butchy told him I’d been snooping.

  What the heck were you thinking, Dylan? A wave of nausea washed over me.

  The door to the office opened, and Izzy flounced out. “I gotta pick up my engagement pictures from the photographer, Pop,” she yelled over her shoulder, “but I’ll be back later.” She gave me a triumphant smile. “Have a nice life.”

  It looked like unemployment was in my immediate future. Still, I couldn’t help myself and grinned at her in return. “Yeah, good luck to you too…with the photos.”

  She gave me a funny look, turned on her heel, and slammed the back door for her final dramatic act.

  Anthony came out of the office hunched over, as if he’d done battle. The phone rang, and he held up a finger, indicating he’d grab it. I started to knead the dough and quickly worked myself into a rhythm, trying to shut out the atmosphere around me.

  Anthony hung up the phone and crooked his finger at me. “Tessa, when you have a minute, come on into my office. I need to speak to you.”

  My stomach muscles tightened at his words. I wiped my hands on a dish towel and followed him inside.

  Anthony sat behind his desk. “Close the door first.”

  I did as he asked and tried to remain calm. He gestured for me to sit on one of the chairs in front of his desk.

  Anthony folded his hands on the desk’s surface. “Our profits have been down lately, so unfortunately, I’m going to have to let you go. When things improve, you’re more than welcome to come back.”

  “I don’t understand.” My suspicions had been correct, but Anthony couldn’t have come up with a better excuse? I was convinced he’d killed Dylan or knew who had. My stubborn streak decided to kick in at that moment. “I’ve worked for you for only two days. What’s changed so much in that short time frame? This doesn’t make sense.”

  Anthony didn’t reply. Instead, he rose from his chair and opened the door for me. “I’ll put a check in the mail to you tomorrow. If you need a reference, I’m more than happy to provide one.”

  “What was Dylan really doing for you?” I blurted out, suddenly not caring that I was “flapping my gums” as Anthony had told Sam.

  Anthony’s eyes glazed over with malice, but he kept his voice on an even keel. “I don’t know what you mean, honey. He did my taxes. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to. You can let yourself out. I’ll make sure you get paid for the entire day.” He closed the door in my face, successfully dismissing me from his life
and his restaurant—or so he thought.

  Vince had arrived while I’d been in the office. He was at the front counter, writing something down on a pad of paper, but he looked up when I came into the kitchen. Our eyes met. He continued to watch me silently for a moment and then lowered his head to the paper again.

  I removed my apron and hung it on the wall, grabbed my purse and coat, and exited through the back door. The air was crisp and clean and smelled of snow. We were supposed to have frost tonight.

  My lower lip started to tremble as I rummaged through my bag for my car keys. I wasn’t even sure why I was crying. I’d enjoyed cooking again, but my fellow coworkers left a lot to be desired. My ego was slightly bruised, because I’d never been fired from a job before in my life. What really bothered me was that I still didn’t have any concrete answers about what had happened to my husband.

  However, I did have a key to the restaurant, knew the alarm code, and was prepared to take full advantage.

  A soft voice spoke behind me. “Mrs. Esposito.”

  Butchy was standing next to my car. He must have been in his vehicle the entire time because I hadn’t noticed him. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

  I ran a finger under my eyes. “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Where are you going?” he wanted to know.

  I beeped my car open. “Today was my last day working here. I’m on my way home.”

  His face sobered. “Oh, wow. I’m sorry. Did Anthony fire you?”

  “How did you guess?”

  He shrugged. “Slice isn’t doing well financially. I mean, they do okay, but with Izzy constantly demanding money from her dad, he can barely stay afloat. Plus, he’s always giving money away to the church… I was surprised he hired you in the first place. We all were. There just isn’t any money.”