Some people would be broken from grief, but Greta Spaga dried her tears after her husband's funeral and said that death was simply part of life. That prolonged mourning only stole the good memories of the person who was gone. Isa doubted she'd have the same strength.
Now, over ten years later, Frazier was missing and Isa would have agreed to almost anything to keep her grandmother from facing another crushing family loss. The old woman might be strong as steel emotionally, but there was still only so much one person could take.
There was only so much Isa could take as well. Robert never said the words directly, but Isa knew that her brother wasn't the only collateral he was holding against her. She'd seen Paul and Ritchie drive by her grandmother's a few times when they knew Isa was there to spot them. Their actions screamed that more than Frazier would pay if Isa refused to do what Robert wanted.
"Here you are," her grandmother said, setting down Isa's cup of tea.
"So tell me about Chance," she said, trying to distract herself and genuinely wanting to know more about the sexy oddball.
Her grandmother smiled as she set her own cup down with more of a clatter.
"Downright tasty looking, isn't he?" Greta asked slyly.
Isa almost choked on a swallow. There was no mistaking the wicked note to her grandmother's voice.
"I meant, where'd you meet him? What does he do for a living? And how long have you known about Frazier, while we're at it?"
"Hmm, where'd I meet Chance? A long time ago in Louisiana . What does he do for a living?" Greta paused to cackle. "He doesn't do anything for a living, dear. How long have I known about Frazier? Since he didn't call me on Tuesday three weeks ago to check in. Frazier always calls me on Tuesdays. He hasn't missed one in the past five years."
Isa's mouth dropped. Her brother Frazier, who couldn't remember anyone's birthday and who hadn't held a steady job since Melrose Place was a hit, called their grandmother faithfully every Tuesday?
Greta tsked. "Don't look so shocked. Frazier's a bit high-strung, but so was I at his age. He's settled down a lot, Isa. You shouldn't judge him so harshly."
Now Isa did choke on her tea, lightly spraying herself with it. Once she'd regained her breath, she was glad it happened. Or she might have shouted, "High-strung? Associating with crime lords is a bit more than high-strung!"
But her grandmother didn't need the added worry of learning about how Frazier had cozened up to Robert these past few months. Hell, Isa had Frazier to thank for the fact that Robert had even stepped foot in her restaurant in the first place. Sure, Frazier tried to dissuade Robert once he saw the interest Robert immediately took in her, but by then, it had been too late.
"Tell me more about Chance," Isa managed. Anything except how Frazier was a misunderstood softie.
Her grandmother stared at her without speaking for so long, Isa repeated the question, thinking maybe her hearing was finally slipping.
"Oh, I heard you the first time," Greta said, still studying her. "You've always been such a serious child. Why, you stopped believing in Santa Claus way before your other friends did, and once your parents died, you stopped believing in a lot more things, didn't you?"
"What does this have to do with Chance?" Isa asked, squirming under that too-knowing pale brown gaze.
"A lot," her grandmother replied sharply. "Once your parents were dead, you stopped believing in people themselves. That's why you withdrew from all your friends. That's why you've never let any of your boyfriends get close to you, and that's also why I haven't told you certain things that otherwise, you would know by now."
Isa stood, looking at her watch with a fake expression of regret. Yes, she'd wanted to find out more about Chance, but not at the price of ripping open wounds she'd tried so hard to forget were there.
"Sorry I can't stay, but I'm supposed to open the restaurant today. That's right, Frank…Frank said he had an appointment. I have to go."
Her grandmother snorted, as eloquent as a twenty-minute dissertation on how Isa was full of shit.
"Fine, go. But before you do, I'll say one thing about Chance: Don't think the world contains only what you've been taught at school. Oh no, my dear. That's just the first layer of it."
Isa gave her a kiss and then got out of there as fast as possible. It would have been easier if her grandmother was wrong, instead of all too accurately nailing her with observations Isa would just as soon not acknowledge.
Chance was outside waiting for Isa when she locked up later that night. He saw her start in surprise when she spotted him leaning against the far side of her restaurant's building, and then the tension left her shoulders.
"You scared me," she said accusingly.
He cast a meaningful look around at the almost empty parking lot and the deep shadows where the streetlights failed to penetrate.
"As well you should be wary. You're a beautiful young woman walking without an escort at one in the morning. Why doesn't one of your staff at least see you to you car?"
"Because they're not sexist pigs who think women are incapable of taking care of themselves."
Chance rolled his eyes. "This has nothing to do with feminism. I'm all for gender equality, but the fact remains that women are targeted for more specific crimes than men, and the perpetrators of those crimes often look for circumstances such as these to attack."
"See this?" Isa pulled something dark and oblong out of her purse. Chance's mouth twitched.
"Turbo Vagisil?"
"No, it's a taser!" Isa said indignantly. "I can take care of myself, Chance. I've been doing that just fine for the past twenty-nine and a half years before you showed up, remember?"
He'd forgotten how hard it was to start a relationship. Casual dating, casual sex, or casual bloodletting was easy, but this? Chance figured it was a good thing he wasn't growing any older.
"Of course," he said, reminding himself that what was once considered polite concern for a lady's well-being was now obviously cause for insult. "But if it's all right with you, I'd like to walk you to your car. I mean no disrespect and I am fully aware that you can take care of yourself. May I?"
Isa hesitated, then nodded. "Okay."
Chance took her arm when she drew even with him. She looked like she might pull away, but then she relaxed and kept it curled around his. Now he could feel her pulse speed up as well as hear it, and he found himself staring at her profile. Her black hair had been up in a neat twist at the beginning of the evening, but now it was coming loose with long pieces falling over her shoulders. She was chewing on her lower lip again, worrying it faintly between her teeth as they walked. Chance's tongue traced his lower lip as he watched, imagining it was hers instead and wondering how she tasted.
Isa stopped next to her vehicle. Instead of letting her arm go, Chance held on and faced her.
She met his eyes—and quickly looked away. "No luck on, ahem, speaking with Robert?"
"No. He's meeting with several guests who flew in this morning. They're staying at his house and they have their own entourage of guards as well, so it's not an opportune time."
"Probably the Salucci brothers," Isa murmured. "They're another lovely criminal family vying for that oh-so-coveted 'made man' status. They're rivals of Robert's, too, if what I've overheard about them is true. I don't know why they'd stay with him. They don't like each other."
"Probably because to refuse is to admit fear, and then that gives Robert the upper hand. Don't worry. I listened in on them and they'll be gone tomorrow. That means tomorrow night, I'll have my talk with Robert."