Overflow: The Carpino Series

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by Asher, Brynne

I hear Jude chuckle beside me and say in his low raspy voice, “Thanks for having me.” With that, I plunk little Chloe down on her tap shoes and march through my crazy family heading straight for the fridge to get a beer. Picking a Blue Moon, I pop the top, take a long pull as people start filing into the great room and kitchen. I see Tony heading straight for me.

  “I’m not talking to you,” I say, pointing at him and turning around.

  “Why aren’t you talking to me, Gabba?” he asks, while fighting back a grin.

  “This is entirely your fault,” I say. “Hence, me not speaking to you!”

  “I’m not the one who found myself in the middle of a Federal raid, Gabby. Don’t see how it’s my fault,” he drawls back at me.

  “Shut up,” I mutter again since I had no meaningful response.

  “Gabby?” I hear Chloe calling up to me. “Will you watch Enchanted with me tonight?”

  “Yes, sweetie, we’ll put it on after dinner,” I answer.

  “Yay!” Chloe cheered. “I wanna be Giselle!” she yells, as if I was going to call it first and she clickety-clacks away only to continue yelling, “Pop!” I look over and my grandfather walks into the room. My insides soften to the point where I can almost forget the last fifteen minute horror show my family has put me through. He is swinging Chloe up in the air, still pretty agile for his seventy years. He receives greetings from his entire family, his great grandchildren especially attacking him with loving hellos and I make my way to him.

  “Pop,” I say as he turns and folds me into his arms. I lean my head back and ask, “How are you?”

  “Piccolo,” he says kissing me on the forehead, affectionately greeting me in his native Italian. “I’m old, Gabby. How’s my girl?”

  “I’m fine and you’re not old, Pop. Quit saying that,” I return, smiling big at him.

  From my legs, I hear Chloe yell like we are across the house, “Pop! Gabby’s got a boyfriend and he’s really big!”

  I look up at Pop and my eyes get big. “I do not have a boyfriend,” I tell my grandfather. Then, turning my head down to a not-so-cute Chloe, I hiss, “I do not have a boyfriend! Stop saying that!”

  Out of nowhere, Jude walks up behind Chloe. I look up at him and sigh. Of course he grins at me. My pop turns me forward with his arm still around my neck, frowns and says in a not very polite voice, “Who are you?”

  “Pop!” I give him a soft elbow to his side. He is seventy, after all.

  “Jude Ortiz, it’s nice to meet you,” Jude rasps, holding his hand out for my grandfather.

  Pop slowly takes his arm out from around my neck taking Jude’s hand and returns with a frown, “Gil Carpino, Gabby’s grandfather.”

  “You’ve got a big family here, Mr. Carpino,” Jude says.

  “Yes, I do,” my grandfather coldly states, now assessing Jude. I’m not sure, but this could be worse than the craziness we experienced when we walked in the house.

  Deciding now was the time to escape, I mutter, “I should help with the food.” I push away from my latest uncomfortable situation, go to Lizzie and hope she assigns me something to do.

  I set about my tasks, occasionally glancing over to see Jude moving around the room. He doesn’t seem to have a problem socializing on the crazy train. When it’s time for dinner, Jude casually sits down next to me like we’ve eaten our last four hundred and sixty two meals together (which we haven’t!). Then, he just as casually chats with my family as if he’s the favorite neighbor boy just back from war (which he isn’t!). I, on the other hand am stressed to the gills, especially when Jude sits back to stretch his arm out across the back of my chair casually drinking his beer, as if he’s really that big and needs the extra room to stretch out (which he is). More than once during dinner, I catch my Pop glaring at Jude. Also more than once throughout this horrific time period, I catch Tony grinning at me, which only makes me glare back at him.

  Finally, the torture was over and we clean up the colossal mess created by my big family. All the men, other than my grandfather, head to the basement for the much anticipated once a year pleasure of drafting a Fantasy Football Team. Everyone else starts unwrapping desserts or finding a place to settle with a new drink. This is what I was about to do, but instead am drug into Tony’s shrine and for the umpteenth time in the matter of two days find myself being interrogated, this time by the women in my family.

  “Spill!” Paige demands! At this point, our private party has grown to include Audrey, Micah, Charlotte and Clara.

  “What do you want to know?” I hesitantly ask.

  “How did you meet him?” Sophia asks.

  “Um…I met him through a friend,” I reply, trying to be as vague as possible.

  “How long have you known him?” Clara shoots.

  “I guess we met yesterday.”

  “Yesterday!” a couple of them scream at the same time.

  “Well, yeah,” I repeat.

  “Why he is acting like he’s with you?” Charlotte joined in.

  “He’s not with me,” I insist.

  “Girl,” Audrey starts. “I have been married for fifteen years and have seen a lot. That man not only thinks he’s with you, but he’s with you, if you know what I mean. He seems to have the ability to watch you like a hawk while drinking beer and shooting the shit. Trust me, we know. We’ve been watching him like a hawk all night!”

  “I wanna know where you found him,” says Paige. “I want one just like him!”

  “Ohmygoodness,” I whisper again. Finally, I decide enough is enough. “You can sit in here and talk about Jude Ortiz all night. I’ve had a freaking long day and didn’t sleep last night. The bottom half of my house is wet, I’m tired and I need another beer. I might need a lot more beer to get through the rest of the night with all you people. I’m going to watch Enchanted, appreciate Patrick Dempsey’s hair for the beautiful lushness that it is and drink. Don’t ask me anymore questions!”

  “Tony told us about your basement, that sucks,” Paige says offhandedly, who obviously isn’t a homeowner, otherwise she would describe my basement flooding as the catastrophe that it is.

  I ignore them all and turn to walk out of the room calling, “Chloe, get the movie!”

  “I’m Giselle!” she yells back as I make it to the fridge for another beer. I get to the sofa and my Pop is stretched out on one end with his feet up on the coffee table with a glass of red wine in his hand.

  “Do you mind if we put in a movie, Pop?” I ask.

  “Anything, Gabby,” he replies, giving me a small smile. Kicking off my flip flops, I settle in the other corner of the sofa with my beer and tuck my feet under me. Chloe puts the movie in and snuggles in front of me. I take a swig of my beer and settle in. I don’t even make it through the animated part of the movie to ogle Patrick Dempsey’s hair.

  I am out like a light.

  Chapter 5 - Cut Me To The Quick

  "Gabby," I hear my name being called softly while something equally as soft whispers across my face. I'm so tired, I just want to sleep. "Gabby, sugar, wake up," I hear again. The word ‘sugar’ clicks in my brain and my eyes pop open. My head is on a pillow, I'm covered with a soft blanket and Jude's melty eyes are super close looking right into mine. I feel his hand pushing my hair away from my face and he whispers, "Draft is done, babe, time to take you home."

  I push up on one arm quickly, putting myself even closer to Jude since he doesn't move back one little inch. "I fell asleep," was all I had to say.

  "Yeah, it's late, let’s get going," he returns. I start to move and realize Mia is snuggled up in the crook of my lap. I give her a nudge and she jumps down. Getting up, I see my cousins carrying sleeping kids out the door one at a time. Jude sees me looking at the train of sleeping kids and turns back to me saying with a grin, "Do I need to carry you?"

  "No, I think I can walk," I respond, with a bit of a glare.

  "Here's your purse, Gabby," Lizzie says, bringing me my things. "Your bowl and platter are clean by t
he door."

  "Thanks Aunt Lizzie, and thanks for dinner," I return. I take my purse as Jude is offering his own gratitude and handshakes for the evening. I make my way through my family giving my own goodbyes and as we are moving toward the door when my phone rings in my purse. Still in a daze from my late evening nap, I slide my thumb across the screen without checking the Caller ID and answer, “Hello?”

  “This is Protection One, I’m calling for Gabrielle Carpino,” the attendant on the other end says.

  “This is Gabrielle Carpino,” I answer.

  “Ma’am, the alarm at your home has been triggered. What is your password on the account?”

  “Meredith,” I answer again. “What’s going on?” My end of the conversation has garnered attention from all of those around me and the room has gone from sleepy to alert in point five seconds.

  “Gabby, who is that?” Jude asks at the same time Tony asks, “What’s going on?”

  “Ma’am, one of your back doors has tripped the alarm. Are you at home?” the attendant asks.

  Waving my hand in front of me for my audience to be quiet so I can concentrate on my call, I say, “No, I’m not home. Did you contact the police?”

  Now the room has gone from alert to wired and I find my phone plucked out of my hand. “Hey!” I yell.

  “This is Jude Ortiz, a friend of Miss Carpino’s. What’s going on?” he says.

  “I could have told you what’s going on, Jude, if you would have waited two seconds!” I say as he puts a hand up, palm to me. This must be the universal male hand communication for ‘be quiet’ as opposed to my feminine one of waving my hand around. This makes me cross my arms across my chest in silent protest of him confiscating my phone.

  “Good. Thanks. We’ll be there in ten minutes. Yes, we will wait for the police to give us the all clear to enter the house. I’m in a silver Ford F150,” he says, finishing my call! He turns to inform me, “Your alarm went off and it came from one of your back doors on the deck. The police are in route and will need to clear the house before we can go in.”

  “I think I could have handled that phone call, you know!” I say, and if it wasn’t so immature I think I’d stomp my foot!

  “Gabby, you don’t know what you’re dealing with, there are things I need to talk to you about regarding Trevor Harper. Things I had planned to tell you about earlier, but because of what happened at your house, it wasn’t the time,” I look at him confused. He then lays it out for me saying, “You’ve been mentioned on the wiretap on my case and not in a good way. You’re receiving attention by being at Harper’s during the raid yesterday, attention from some really bad people. We need to arrange extra precautions for you until we find him and put him behind bars.”

  Yes. This is what he said. Right in front of all my uncles, aunts and most of my adult cousins. The only thing I could do was stand here looking up at him with my mouth open.

  I have no words.

  “Raid?!?” my Uncle Gino belts out.

  “Gabby what is he talking about?” my Aunt Tia asks.

  “What’s going on?” my Uncle Tony asks directly to Jude. Similar questions continue to be shot around the room at Jude and me.

  Speechless.

  I’m speechless.

  I’ve been mentioned on wiretaps and not in a good way. I mean, I doubt there’s a good way for anyone to be mentioned on a wiretap, right? And what does that mean? I have to take extra precautions? What does that mean? And Jude planned to tell me earlier, but because of what happened at my house and having to tell him about my parents, he didn’t? I don’t know if I think that’s sweet or if I should be pissed he didn’t tell me I was mentioned on a wiretap and not in a good way!

  I don’t know what to do, so I look straight to Tony. My eyes get big and I try to telepathically ask him for advice. Obviously not picking up on my silent SOS request for help, all he says is, “Did you really think you could keep this from everyone?”

  “You knew about this?” Aunt Lizzie raises her voice, actually yelling at her Golden Boy and all eyes go to Tony.

  Tony sighs and says, “Yes. Gabby called me yesterday for representation while they were questioning her. I went, there was minimal questioning before they realized Gabby has nothing to do with their case. Jude is the case agent.”

  Uncle Tony starts in, speaking directly to his son, “I cannot believe you didn’t tell us about this. This could be dangerous for Gabby.” He turns to me and demands, “And what do you think you were doing getting yourself tangled in the middle of a Federal raid? What were they looking for?”

  “Are you kidding me? I was finishing Megan’s laundry room! I was there on business. Décor business, not any other kind of business! For heaven’s sake! I was delivering a client gift, the project just finished up!” I defend myself.

  Jude, having enough, says, “We need to get to Gabby’s. The police will be waiting, can we catch up on all this later?”

  “I’ll follow you,” says Tony. All of my uncles concur and they all prepare to make a late night visit to my house.

  I take my bowl and platter, thrust them at Jude, scoop up my sleepy dog and march out the door. Finding it unbelievable that I have yet another drama to attend to, I hear Jude beep the locks on his truck as I approach the passenger door. His long legs must really work double time because he catches up to me and while balancing my stuff under one arm, he grabs me saying, “Gabby, wait.”

  “What?” I fling around and start ranting. “I have the police, waiting, remember? And apparently I have precautions to take, precautions that my security system isn’t good enough for since my house was still broken into!”

  “Gabby, settle down,” he says in his low raspy voice. “We’ll figure this out, talk to the police, but I promise I’ll make it safe for you. Okay?”

  I am so tired and it’s even more exhausting to think about what I have ahead of me for the rest of what will be a long night. “Jude, can we just go? I need to know what’s going on at my house. Please.”

  He looks at me for a beat and then says, “Yeah Gabby, let’s go.” We both climb in his truck and Jude leads the caravan of Gabby Caretakers to my next drama.

  *****

  “Ma’am, you’re lucky you weren’t home. What with you being on the far west side of town so close to the county line, there isn’t much crime out here. Took us fourteen minutes to get the closest squad here from the time your alarm company dispatched us. Lot can happen in fourteen minutes ma’am. Yep, you were lucky tonight,” the officer says, telling me in depressing detail that I’d basically be screwed if I had been home. This news was not making me feel better, to say the least.

  When we got to my house, there were four cop cars, another pulling up and my house was lit up like it was honing the mother ship. Since we got here, we have been told that one of the back doors that lead from the master bedroom (my bedroom!) to the deck had the glass broken out of it and is what tripped my alarm. My house has been cleared by the police, no other damage was found and nothing was taken that we could tell. My usually spacious master bedroom seems super tiny with all the police officers, Jude, Tony and my uncles standing around assessing the damage, not to mention, what possibly could have happened if I had been here. Trying to put thoughts of what could have been out of my mind, I help a couple of my uncles find some plywood and tools in my garage to patch up the door for the night. When we walk back into my room I see Jude in deep discussion with the police officers. My uncles get started on the patch job and Jude looks up and moves to me.

  When he reaches me he takes my hand and says, “We need to talk.” He proceeds to pull me out of my bedroom and back into the great room sitting me down on my sofa. He sits down close to me and starts, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, Gabby. I don’t know whether it’s Harper or others in his organization, but they know you were there when we served the warrant and that you know they are involved in illegal activity. We’ve heard them talk about this on the wiretap and they see yo
u as a threat because of what you know. Tonight could have been a warning or something else altogether.”

  “Something else?”

  Jude (who is still holding my hand by the way) scoots even closer, reaches up with his free hand and slides his fingers into my hair to cup the side of my head, just like earlier. And just like earlier, it feels so good, I think I might melt all over again. Then he leans his head down, using his low and sweet raspy voice on me for the second time today, says, “Gabby, I’ll make sure you’re not alone. I’ll make sure you’re safe and no one’s going to touch you. I know I should have told you about this earlier today, but I upset you once and the thought of doing it twice cut me to the quick.”

  Cut him to the quick? He didn’t want to upset me twice? I looked into his melty eyes and wondered what in the hell is going on with my life. Federal raids, flooded basements, broken windows and a confusing, sexy, but bossy, sweet federal agent. I seriously want my boring and mundane life back!

  Not knowing what to say, I ask, “Why are you doing all of this for me?”

  Jude’s face got even softer. His hand at my head gives me a squeeze. Seriously, just when I didn’t think that could feel any better, it did. He pulls me even closer to his face, all I can see are his melty eyes and I feel his breath as he rasps, “I don’t know sugar, but I’m feeling the need to see this through if you’ll let me. Will you let me do that?”

  I sit here, look at him for a beat and all I can think of to say is, “Okay,” in a whisper because I really want to know what it means for him to see it through, plus I’m lulled into a Jude induced coma again.

  At my one little word, his mouth slowly grows into a big beautiful smile. “Thanks,” he says. “I don’t want you alone tonight, so I’m stayin, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  Um, excuse me?

  I feel my eyes go big but before I can express anything out loud, I hear, “Door’s patched!” This coming from Tony who, when I look up, I see him heading for us coming out of my bedroom.

  Jude stands and announces with authority, “I’m sleeping on her couch tonight so she won’t be by herself. We just worked it out. She’ll probably have to wait until Monday to get someone to look at the door and that glass will probably have to be special ordered. I work closely with OPD, so I’ll hit the office tomorrow, get a read on the latest wire transcripts and see if anything has been said, then coordinate with the officer. There’s already a warrant on Harper. If they find any of his prints on the area of the bedroom door and deck, we’ll have additional charges on him as well.”

 

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