She made a bubble with her spit, causing Andrei to laugh and reach for a soft cloth he kept in the diaper bag on the back of the stroller. He wiped her mouth, then kissed her forehead. Watching the ex-MMA fighter go soft over his little girl warmed Ian’s heart.
“So, you’ve made up your mind? Want to go find a dining table now?” Ian leaned over and ran his hand over the coffee table. “Are you going for just the couch, love seat, and chair—or are you going for the tables, too?”
“Let’s look for other tables. These have sharp corners, and I don’t want Daciana to get hurt when she starts pulling up on things.”
Ian nodded and stood, his phone buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out, read the text, and shook his head.
“Let me guess,” Andrei said. “Snow.”
“You know he decided to plan his own wedding, right?”
Andrei nodded.
“He should have just let me do it at this rate.” He held out the phone so Andrei could read the text.
Colors don’t really matter, do they?
Andrei chuckled as he slipped Daci into the stroller. “He was texting Lucas, too, until Lucas fired back that he didn’t give a shit about any of that stuff either—just marrying me. That’s why he’d left it all to you.”
“Wonder if he’s even tried hitting up Rowe.” Ian should have insisted he do the planning. It wasn’t like he hadn’t already started the moment they announced their plans.
“That would be like asking a bomb specialist to plan the wedding.”
Laughing, Ian started to put his phone into his pocket, but he noticed he had a new notification. He had alerts set for anything to do with Rialto because he’d worried so much about rumors after the ICE raid. When he saw it was just reviews, he nearly quit reading, but a one-star caught his eye. Then he saw there were several new ones and they were all one-stars. His gut clenched hard. Even knowing he shouldn’t read them, he couldn’t stop himself and his mouth dropped open with the second one.
“What’s wrong?” Andrei asked, looking over his shoulder.
“There’s a stream of bad reviews coming in for Rialto.” He thumbed down the screen.
“Everyone gets a bad review here and there.”
“Not seven in one day—not my place.” He pointed to the second review. “And this isn’t even real. We don’t serve shepherd’s pie. According to this review, the food took forever, the mashed potatoes were undercooked, and the service was terrible.”
Andrei frowned. “Maybe you shouldn’t read those.”
“This one says the wine was off. We serve only the best wines, and I make sure they’re all good.” Ian growled, his eyes widening on the next review. He didn’t say anything out loud because he hadn’t told the others about the raid, but this review brought up animals in the kitchen and rumors of drugs. His heart beat so hard, he could hear it pulsing in his ears, drowning out anything Andrei might have said. His hands started to sweat.
This could hurt him. Hurt him badly.
Even as he read, more one-star reviews poured in. And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. The walls narrowed around him as panic built in a tight, painful knot in his chest. He worked so hard to make that restaurant what it was, and yeah, low reviews had come in here and there, but never anything like this. His hands were shaking as he forced himself to shut down the phone and place it in his pocket.
Andrei rubbed his back. “I’m really sorry about this, Ian.”
“There must be something I can do. I’ll call James and see about reporting these reviews as fake,” Ian said, mentioning his business manager, James Dunkle. The man had been with him since the opening of Rialto and was brilliant at handling much of the day-to-day ordering and human resources stuff Ian didn’t even want to think about. “Or maybe hire a reputation management firm. It’s so much easier to handle disgruntled people when they actually happen to be at the restaurant. If I have someone displeased, I can comp meals or offer gift certificates, anything. This is all happening online, and some of these reviews are for food we don’t even serve. It’s not really fair.”
“It’s suspicious.”
It was. But Andrei didn’t know about the raid, and some of those reviews had to do with that. He could imagine dissatisfied patrons being upset at getting caught up in the mess. He swiped a hand through his hair and closed his eyes, counting to bring himself back under control. When he opened them, he had a better handle on his emotions, though they boiled inside him. He’d meet with James and come up with a plan since he wouldn’t just take this sitting down. “Let’s enjoy the shopping trip. I can hardly get anyone to shop with me these days, and I don’t want to ruin this. We’re going to find you the best tables to go with that furniture.”
Andrei’s dark eyes held concern. “Are you sure you still feel like it? There’s no hurry. We don’t move in for several weeks yet.”
He squared his shoulders. “I’m sure. I love shopping—you know that.”
Andrei squeezed his arm. “I wouldn’t want anyone else with me doing this. And Rialto will be fine. It’s too good not to weather this little hitch. Think about that magazine spread you just got. That’s great publicity.”
It wasn’t such a little hitch, not coming right after the raid, but Ian decided not to talk about it anymore. They found a set of tables with rounded corners that went perfectly with the furniture. They didn’t find the right dining room set, but Andrei said they’d try another day. He put in his order with the happy salesman, and Ian played with Daci as he waited. It didn’t take long since Andrei was buying everything outright and having it delivered.
As they pushed the stroller into the bright sunlight outside, he thought about how he could counteract the bad reviews. He knew there were companies that specialized in restoring reputations, but he knew little about them. Still, his heart felt heavy as they reached Andrei’s SUV. Andrei had started driving this new car when he’d realized he needed the room for all Daci’s things.
“How’s the restaurant in OTR coming along?” Andrei asked as he got Daci out of the stroller and put her into her car seat.
“Good. Only a few months out now and I’m excited to be trying something with all new dishes. This place won’t be as fancy as Rialto but more trendy, and the spot in OTR is perfect for that kind of restaurant. I’m calling it In Good Time.”
Luckily, Rialto had been an easy five-star, and that had helped him get everything he needed to start the new place. Which reminded him of the bad reviews piling up.
“I should do something big,” he said as he got into the passenger seat of Andrei’s vehicle. “Some kind of splashy thing for the holidays. Thanksgiving and Christmas aren’t that far off, and maybe I can counteract some of the bad reviews if I can’t get them taken down.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Andrei agreed as he got behind the wheel after storing the stroller in the back of the SUV.
Daci babbled in her car seat in the back as they got onto the road.
“You want to stop for lunch somewhere?” Andrei asked. “I’m starving.”
“I feel the need to go by Rialto and see how things are going. Talk to James. Would you mind eating there?”
Andrei laughed. “I love it there. You know you don’t even have to ask.”
“Good. It’ll give my staff a chance to coo over your sweet little girl, too. They love when you bring her in.”
The whole time they drove to Rialto, the reviews played over and over in Ian’s mind like a sickening film reel. The knot they left in his gut made him feel faintly nauseous, too. He was excited about opening the new place, but Rialto was his baby and he felt like all this was entirely too out of his control. He hated that feeling.
Chapter Four
Hollis tucked his hands in his armpits and slouched a little lower in the passenger seat of the Merleau Detective Agency surveillance van. It figured that early fall weather had sneaked in when he was stuck in a van down by the river. He would have preferred to spen
d a cozy Sunday night wrapped around Ian in bed, buried under a mound of blankets and listening to his steady breathing.
Not that Shane Stephens was bad company. His boss at Merleau was a funny guy with a sharp mind. He would have made a good cop. As it was, he was already a much better follower of the rules than Hollis had ever been while on the force in Cincinnati or Atlanta.
Shane and his business partner, Patrick, had taken a big chance on Hollis when they offered him a job. Hollis had been a good cop. An honest cop. He’d worked hard to keep people safe and put criminals away, but it had become harder and harder to not cross certain lines when it came to stopping crime boss Boris Jagger. And it was damn near impossible the second Ian’s past came to light.
But even with Shane’s interesting stories about him and his live-in boyfriend or the even crazier stories of his father dating a man for the first time—a Ward Security bodyguard who also happened to be much younger—Hollis couldn’t stop worrying about Ian. His husband was already stretched thin with the upcoming launch of his new restaurant and their plans to become foster parents, but the weird attacks on Rialto were ramping up Ian’s stress.
Rialto was always a demanding business. Ian wasn’t the type to just leave his restaurant in the capable hands of his employees; he needed to be there for nearly every decision.
For the most part, everything ran smoothly. The worst things that Hollis had been around for were some unexpected ingredient shortages and a really bad bout of the flu that had wiped out half the kitchen staff. That one had resulted in Hollis getting a crash course in working in a professional gourmet kitchen.
He prayed every damn day that he never had to do it again.
The bad reviews were annoying, particularly the ones Ian pointed out that were clearly fake. But every business had to deal with bad reviews. They had to be taken with a grain of salt. Sometimes you could do things to improve. And sometimes the person was having a bad day or was just a cranky bitch. Ian had to move forward, hire a reputation management company, and just keep being awesome. The packed reservation list and glowing professional reviews were proof that Rialto and its staff were amazing.
But when combined with the ridiculous ICE raid, Hollis couldn’t deny that his cop senses were tingling. Not that he was ready to admit it to Ian. The phony reports to ICE could have come from the same vindictive bastard that posted the reviews. But instigating a raid was dangerous. Those agents stormed the restaurant with guns drawn. If someone had sneezed in that tense moment, they could have been shot. And what if someone didn’t have their ID that day? In this political atmosphere, they risked being taken, and God only knew when they’d be released.
Maybe the asshole hadn’t expected the tips to be escalated to a violent raid?
Or maybe they had and that was the point.…
Hollis groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face. He was going around in circles and coming up with no new ideas. If this was all a horrible coincidence and amounted to nothing, then Hollis didn’t want to bring his worries up to Ian. He had enough on his mind. Someone threatening his Rialto would send him screaming over the deep end.
“Go ahead, text him,” Shane said.
“What?” Hollis blinked and looked around, trying to get his brain to remember why he was stuck in a van in the cold night air with Shane. That’s right. The stalking case.
“That groan. I’m assuming you’re worried about your sweet chef and fighting the urge to text him.”
Hollis smirked at his companion. He’d told Shane about the ICE raid and the recent negative reviews. So far, Shane was shrugging them off as coincidence and bad luck. And maybe they were due for a little bad luck. Things had certainly been running in their favor recently. It had been months since any of the family had been shot or set on fire. God, Hollis wanted to roll his eyes at that thought alone, but when it came to Lucas, Snow, and Rowe, shootings and fires were kind of par for the course.
Their wedding had even been perfect. Hollis hated to admit that he’d been expecting something horrible to happen, but the worst thing was Daciana Vallois getting fussy during their wedding vows.
“Maybe,” Hollis muttered.
“Text Ian. Then I can text Quinn guilt-free and tell him to get home to feed our cat.”
Hollis snorted but pulled out his phone. With any luck, Ian would be fast asleep and wouldn’t answer.
It’s colder than hell in this stupid van.
He wanted Ian to be sleeping, but there was no denying that his heart picked up a little when he saw those three dots appear just seconds after the text was sent, indicating that Ian was replying.
I’m lying across the entire bed, heating it up for you.
Hollis huffed a soft laugh. He didn’t believe that for a second. When Ian started out at night, he was curled up in a little ball on his side. But he was a restless sleeper even when he wasn’t having nightmares. His husband usually spent a good chunk of the night plastered across Hollis while he was asleep.
Naked?
Guess you’ll have to come home to find out.
Hollis tucked his phone into his pocket and looked over at Shane to find his friend smirking at him.
Shane set his phone on the dashboard. “Feel better?”
“I’ve moved from worried to physically frustrated.”
Shane grunted. “They’re all teases. Quinn sent an almost dick pic to prove he wasn’t at the office.”
“What’s an ‘almost dick pic’?”
“A fresh from the shower pic that gets a hint of pubic hair and tease of the root, but nothing else.”
Hollis had to clap his hand over his mouth to keep his laughter from ringing out in the van. They’d been on surveillance for the past three hours. No reason to blow their cover by being careless.
And yes, he was grateful that Ian wasn’t in a mean mood. His man knew all the ways to push his buttons and did it on more than one occasion to get what he wanted. Hollis fucking loved it, too. Loved Ian’s sexual confidence. But he definitely hated when he was stuck in a van and couldn’t put his hands on his lovely husband.
“We’ve got movement,” Shane announced, his voice turning serious. He handed over his binoculars to Hollis and pointed with his free hand. As soon as Hollis accepted them, Shane grabbed the camera to start snapping pictures.
The case wasn’t proving to be too complicated. The client had come to Merleau complaining that he was being followed and threatened. He didn’t want to go to the cops until he had some kind of proof. The guy wasn’t sure if his wife was trying to have him killed or if his business partner was trying to force him to sell his half of the business.
Tonight, they were outside the guy’s business after he’d let slip to both his wife and business partner that he’d stashed some important financial documents in the office until he could meet with his lawyer.
“Doesn’t look like the business partner,” Shane muttered. There was an ultra-soft clicking noise of the shutter rapidly firing with each shot. “Maybe one of them hired out the dirty work.”
Hollis lifted the binoculars and swung them over to the building. The back of the warehouse was well-lit, giving Hollis a clear view of the tall, skinny figure wearing a dark knit hat along with black pants and a leather jacket. But even from the distance, Hollis could clearly make out the devil tattoo on the man’s neck.
“No fucking way,” Hollis swore. He lowered the binoculars for a moment and blinked, his heart racing in his chest. He couldn’t have possibly seen who he thought he saw. But there was no mistaking that tattoo.
“What? You recognize him?”
Hollis ignored Shane’s questions as he stared through the binoculars again. He carefully focused the lenses, training them on the man’s face as he paused at the door and looked around the open area to make sure he was alone. It was him. Hollis would have recognized Joey “No Nose” Pinscher anywhere. The man got the nickname because he apparently had no sense of smell. The guy usually stank to high heaven and was complete
ly oblivious to it.
Hollis became acquainted with Joey when he’d worked undercover in Boris Jagger’s mob.
“It’s Joey Pinscher. He worked for Boris Jagger.”
“What? Jagger? He’s dead, right? I mean…”
“Yeah, Jagger’s dead.” Hollis would know. He was there when Ian finished him off before he could kill both him and Ian. That moment would haunt him forever. Terror and relief had run through him.
“Joey was a low-level creep for Jagger. Mostly ran errands, drugs, and worked as muscle here and there when it was needed.”
Shane’s voice was cautious as he continued to snap pictures. “Is this from when you were a Cincy cop? I know you were on the Jagger case.”
That was an understatement.
“I spent close to a year undercover in Jagger’s operation. That’s when I met Joey, along with an entire cast of monsters I’d prefer to think were locked up in prison somewhere.”
Hollis didn’t want to think about Jagger. It didn’t matter that the man had been dead for nearly three years. He always seemed to pop up in the back of Hollis’s mind, reminding him of the horrible things he’d put Ian through. That Jagger and his entire operation were the reasons for Ian’s nightmares.
Jagger conjured up endless tangles of helplessness and rage that Hollis couldn’t shed. The old memories were always there, even if Ian refused to admit it. They gave his lover nightmares still and caused more than enough bad days. But Ian shrugged them off and pasted a smile on his face. He plunged himself into work, forcing them both to pretend that Jagger wasn’t still haunting them.
And Hollis let it happen.
For the most part, they were happy. The nightmares were rare and so were the bad days. Hollis didn’t want to rock the boat. He didn’t want to be the one to force Ian to relive those horrible memories yet again. Not when their life together was going so perfectly.
He didn’t want to admit that there were days he was afraid to let Ian out of his sight. That there were nights when Hollis had his own memories or something triggered an old thought from their early days together, leaving Hollis wanting to simply hold Ian and reassure himself that the man he loved most in the world was safe.
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