14. Chapter 14
Naomi was confused. She wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. Her plan had been simple: drop the car off, hand Tony the key, and walk down to the bus stop. That had been her plan.
So why, instead, was she sitting outside in the cool evening air, a glass of wine in her hand, a gas fire pit casting a soft, romantic glow across the stone patio?
Why was she eating what might be the best pasta she’d ever tasted in her life, the warmth of roasted peppers and garlic still lingering on her tongue?
The romesco sauce was unlike anything she’d had before—smoky, nutty, layered with flavors she couldn’t quite identify, but wanted to savor forever. Paired with the wine, it was intoxicating.
“Where are your parents?” Tony asked suddenly, his deep voice breaking the comfortable silence.
The question made her stiffen slightly. She took a slow sip of wine before answering, letting the ache dull in her chest. “My father skipped town when I was too young to remember him.” She swallowed hard, then forced the next words out. “And my mother died of cancer several years ago.”
His jaw flexed, the firelight catching the hard lines of his face. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, the words low and rough—weighted with more feeling than he seemed willing to show, every ounce of it tightly controlled.
Naomi nodded, staring into her glass, unsure what to say. Finally, she lifted her gaze. “What about you?”
He didn’t flinch. “My father is unknown. And my mother passed away when I was just a kid.”
There was something in his tone—flat, clipped—that hinted at more. Pain buried so deep it had calcified. For some reason, she knew instinctively that there was a story there, a dark one, but she didn’t know him well enough to ask. Not yet.
“How did you get into the security business?” she asked instead, hoping to ease the weight of the moment.
He gave a short grunt. “My friend Sal—he lives a few doors down—and I grew up in the same neighborhood.” He tipped his wineglass slightly in her direction, a subtle gesture. “Pretty close to where you live now, actually.”
Naomi blinked. “That’s weird,” she said with a faint grin, though she couldn’t explain why.
There were thousands of people in her neighborhood, thousands scraping by paycheck to paycheck, just trying to keep their heads above water.
Maybe it was the idea of him—this larger-than-life man with the expertly tailored shirts and fortress of a home—having ever lived that way.
“He had some ideas on how we could make money,” Tony continued.
He set his glass down with deliberate care, as if even that small act required precision.
“I worked beside him to make sure those ideas happened.” He shrugged, the motion casual, dismissive, as though their climb out of poverty had been nothing worth mentioning.
“It’s worked out pretty well for both of us. ”
Naomi gave a soft snort and glanced around.
Pretty well? This wasn’t “pretty well.” This was wealth.
Power. A stone patio bordered by carefully manicured shrubs and trees, their leaves bursting with springtime green.
Beyond the fire pit, she could see meticulously placed lighting that gave the garden an otherworldly glow.
“I’d say you’ve done better than ‘pretty well,’ Tony,” she said dryly. Her eyes flicked back to his. “And by the way—why is there nothing about you online? I tried looking for information about you. There’s nada on the internet. Not even a resume or a social media tag.”
He didn’t hesitate. “Because I have a team of people who scrub the internet, taking down anything that might get posted about me or my friends.” He swirled his wine lazily, then looked at her with dark, steady eyes. “I prefer my life to remain private. Not consumable by the general population.”
Naomi’s brows rose. “Your friend, Sal, shows up, though. Not much, but enough. Why is that?”
“Because he’s as private as I am.”
Her lips curved as she tilted her head, studying him in the firelight. “He’s a powerful man.” She paused, her voice low, teasing but edged with curiosity. “I’m guessing that, as his partner, you are too?”
The firelight glinted off his sharp features as he met her gaze without flinching. “We work well together,” was all he said.
Naomi pursed her lips, studying him in the flickering firelight. She was determined to peel back at least one of the tightly locked layers that made up this man. “Tell me two things you and Sal did back in the old neighborhood that you’re actually proud of.”
Tony swirled the wine in his glass, the deep burgundy catching the glow of the flames.
For a moment, he stared at it, his expression unreadable, his shoulders tense.
“Not much to be proud of during those days,” he said finally, his voice quiet but heavy, like it carried a thousand unspoken memories.
She huffed softly, unwilling to let him off the hook. “There has to be something.”
He leaned back, eyes shifting to the line of trees that surrounded the patio, their leaves rustling faintly in the evening breeze.
“There was an older woman. Mary… or maybe Martha,” he began slowly.
“She was in her late seventies, I think. Still working. Still walking back and forth to the grocery store every Saturday morning and church every Sunday. Hair appointment once a month. She was steady. Predictable.” His jaw tightened, his voice sharpening.
“And some punks decided that made her an easy target. They started harassing her, stealing her food money.”
Naomi held her breath, her hands tightening around the stem of her glass. “And what did you do?”
His gaze flicked back to her, dark and steady.
“I stopped them.” The words were clipped, controlled, but the steel underneath was unmistakable.
“They weren’t going to use her money for food.
Just drugs and alcohol.” He shrugged slightly, took a sip of wine, then continued, “So, I made sure they couldn’t steal from her again. ”
Naomi’s lips curved into a slow grin. “Uh-huh. I’m sure there’s more to that story than you’re telling me. But thank you for sharing.” She leaned forward a little, her glass cupped between her palms, the firelight catching in her eyes. “One more thing.”
Tony hesitated for a long moment, then nodded once.
“I set up a community center in that neighborhood. For the kids.” His tone was blunt, but his eyes softened just slightly.
“It’s got after-school care for parents who work late.
A few playgrounds. Basketball hoops. Tutors for kids who need a little extra help.
And breakfast every morning that isn’t the sugary garbage schools try to pass off as food. ”
Naomi nearly choked on her wine. “I tutor at that community center!” she exclaimed, laughter bubbling out of her. “I didn’t know it was your project.”
“I’m not the sole contributor,” he corrected quickly, his voice a little rougher, as if uncomfortable with her admiration. “Plenty of others help keep it running.” He tipped his head toward her, studying her face. “What do you tutor?”
“English and math,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him playfully. “And don’t even try it.”
One of his eyebrows lifted, amused despite himself at her warning.
Naomi set her glass down, leaning in with more boldness than she felt. “I want more. Tell me about what you do.”
Tony shook his head once, the finality in the gesture cutting the conversation short.
“My job is boring,” he replied, standing and collecting her empty bowl and his own.
“I work with a team of analysts. They are the ultimate geek squad, and they’re absolutely brilliant.
” He glanced back at her over his shoulder.
“They make me look good.” Tony put the bowls in the kitchen then returned to his seat, the firelight catching in his dark eyes as he got settled.
“Payback,” he announced. “Tell me two things about your childhood that no one else knows.”
Naomi blinked, caught off guard. “I guess that’s only fair.”
He didn’t move, didn’t blink. “I want to know.”
She hesitated, twirling the stem of her wineglass as she thought back to her childhood.
He wanted something no one else knew? “Okay. First one. When I was about ten, one of my friends stole a lipstick from a family-owned drugstore several blocks from my house. Only, she didn’t actually steal it—she shoved it into my backpack when the clerk wasn’t looking. ”
Tony’s eyebrow lifted. “And you got caught?”
Naomi shook her head. “Not exactly. I realized what she’d done when I got home.
I panicked and felt so guilty about the theft that I didn’t know what to do at first. But then I realized that I couldn’t keep it and there was no way I was going to give it to my friend.
When she demanded that I hand it over, I got angry.
She threatened to tell my mother if I didn’t bring it to school the next day, so I got back at her.
I mailed the lipstick back to the store with a note explaining everything.
I even told the owner which friend had done it.
The store owner called her mother and the girl tearily confessed. ”
He stared at her, amusement flickering in his eyes. “That sounds like you.”
“Yeah, well, a week later, I found out that she’d been banned from the store.” She huffed. “And that girl never spoke to me again.”
A low chuckle rumbled from him. “Strong ethic for a ten-year-old.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, she deserved it. She wasn’t a very nice person.”
His lips curved slightly. “Okay, tell me the next story.”
Naomi thought again, sifting through past memories.
Before she started on her second one, she took another sip of wine, appreciating the excellent layers of flavors.
“When I was thirteen, I entered a writing contest. I had my essay finished and ready to go, but one of my friends begged me not to submit it. She said she needed the prize money more than I did.”
Tony frowned. “And you let her talk you out of it?”