Controlled by the Mob Page 3

  Shannon chuckled. “No, as a matter of fact, she does not. So please don’t let the cat out of the bag.”

  He leaned back in his chair and rested a leather flip-flop clad foot on his knee while miming twisting a key over his lips and then tossing it away.

  Shannon laughed. Again. Her abs were starting to ache. This was better exercise than an aerobics workout.

  “So you want to own a B&B? This specific one?”

  She shook her head. “Yes, but not here. Most likely, I’ll end up buying one out of state.” Somewhere far away from Davit.

  “Have you been real estate shopping?”

  “Not yet. I still need to save a little more money.” She sipped her wine. “I plan to pay cash.”

  “Oh-h-h, I’m impressed. That’s a huge undertaking. Smart, intending to start out debt-free. So what do you do currently? Do you work in hotels?”

  She almost said, “Sort of,” but she bit her tongue. “No. I have no experience in this industry. It’s just…a dream I have.”

  “It’s good to have dreams. They give you something to live for.”

  Didn’t she know it. “Does that mean you have your own dreams?”

  He finished his sparkling wine and then stared into the empty flute. “I didn’t, for a long time. I mean, when I was a kid I wanted to be Batman. But it didn’t quite work out. Since then… I guess I sort of lost myself. Was just going through the motions, doing what I was told, making sure everyone around me was happy, not even thinking about myself.”

  Shannon could certainly relate to that feeling.

  “And then I walked in on Bridgette getting fucked by my brother’s best friend, and I had this sort of revelation. I realized I didn’t want to do that anymore. I didn’t want to take care of everyone else at the expense of my own happiness. So here I am.”

  “We’ve covered that. What about your dreams?”

  He winked. “I’m still working on that part.”

  She smiled. “Let me know when you get there.”

  “Will do.” He stood. “I’m going to head back to my room. Thank you for sharing the bottle and keeping me company. I had a far more enjoyable time than I expected to tonight.”

  “You’re welcome.” She watched him walk toward the house. “Wait.”

  He stopped and half turned around, those sleek, black brows arched.

  “Tomorrow. Can-can I join you?”

  He smiled. It was wide, unrestrained, genuine. “Absolutely. I’ll meet you in the lobby at nine. We can get breakfast first.”

  “I understand Maureen puts out an amazing buffet in the mornings.”

  He nodded. “Then I’ll meet you in the dining room. ’Night, Shannon.”

  He slipped inside, and she sat there for a long time afterward.

  It was the first time in six years a man knew her only as Shannon, without the Serendipity or Star persona.

  And she was going on a date with him tomorrow.

  Chapter Five

  Leo was downstairs in the dining room by eight-thirty.

  And she was already there, standing in front of the buffet, dropping a scoop of scrambled eggs onto her plate. Her hair was pulled back into a thick ponytail, showing off bright, caramel-colored highlights. She wore a T-shirt under which he could see the outline of a tank top, and a pair of khaki shorts, her long, slender legs ending in tennis shoes that actually looked appropriate for climbing sand dunes versus simply looking stylish.

  He stepped up next to her and plucked a plate from the stack at the end of the buffet. “Too excited about those dunes to stay in bed too, huh?”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him, her gaze registering surprise for a moment before she lowered her lashes. She once again wore no makeup, and he knew it because there were huge purple bruises under her eyes. She clearly hadn’t slept well last night.

  Shit, now he felt guilty for asking her to join him.

  She shook her head and focused on piling blueberries and strawberries next to her eggs. “I had a nightmare and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

  She snagged a napkin wrapped around silverware and, instead of moving to the huge, antique table in the middle of the room where a smattering of other guests were seated, she stepped out onto the patio and sat at the same small table where he’d found her the day before.

  Leo hurried to fill his plate and follow. “Mind if I join you?”

  She nodded at the chair across from her, so he sat and placed his napkin on his lap. A young man who bore a strong resemblance to Maureen hurried over and offered them coffee, which they both accepted.

  “Want to talk about it?” Leo offered when the silence between them drifted into uncomfortable territory.

  “To be honest, I can’t believe I even told you I had one. I’ve never told a single person about the nightmares.”

  Nightmares, plural. Like it was a common occurrence. One she was either embarrassed about or that held some deeper meaning he likely didn’t want to know about. He wasn’t here to take care of this woman, to fix her problems. He’d sworn off taking care of others above himself, remember?

  He waved his fork at her coffee cup. “Well, drink up so you can wake up. We’re about to burn a whole lot of calories. And I expect you to be up to the challenge.”

  Her eyes widened. She’d probably expected him to ask questions, probe, but it was clear she didn’t want to talk about it. Hell, the woman didn’t talk much at all. Which was fine by him, because it helped ensure he didn’t get too close. He wouldn’t mind spending time with her while he was here vacationing this week, but when he left, he was leaving alone, and he wasn’t asking for her number or attempting to see her again. That wasn’t the objective of this little escape.

  She shook her head and the corners of her mouth quirked into s small smile as she focused on adding a dollop of cream to her coffee.

  Damn, she had amazing lips. He could see why she didn’t bother with makeup; she was a natural beauty, gorgeous without even trying.

  “I am definitely up to the challenge,” she finally said, a hard resolve to her voice that was completely unnecessary. They were just sand dunes, for Christ’s sake. If they didn’t make it to the top, so what?

  He wolfed down his breakfast, then excused himself to take his plate inside and hunt down Maureen to see if he could convince the proprietor to throw together a picnic basket for him and Shannon.

  He didn’t even have to lay on the charm.

  “Are you kidding? Of course. You two are perfect for each other,” she insisted. “Two lost souls, finding each other here, at my B&B. It’s like a fairy tale.”

  “Just friends,” Leo said because he did not need Maureen to make comments in front of Shannon, who, while she’d agreed to go with him today, was exhibiting no signs whatsoever that she was interested in anything romantic. Which was okay, because he wasn’t either.

  Okay, if she hit on him, he’d totally sleep with her. But that was it. There would be no fairy tale ending. They would part as acquaintances and go their separate ways at the end of the week. Shoot, he didn’t even know where the woman lived.

  And he was okay keeping it that way.

  Shannon appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, and her eyes were brighter, her face slightly flushed. The coffee had done wonders, apparently.

  “Ready?” she asked, placing her dishes in the sink even as Maureen scolded her because that was what Bennie was there for, to wait tables, and how was he supposed to do his job if the guests kept doing it for him?

  Shannon chuckled. “Is he your son? He looks just like you.”

  Maureen shook her head. “My nephew. Sometimes it feels like half my family works here. Or maybe more than half. My sister and her other two kids clean the rooms, my brother-in-law helps with the cooking, my husband takes care of the yard and repairs, and my oldest daughter handles the marketing.”

  A family business. Leo understood. This wasn’t unlike his own situation, although there didn’t seem to be all the unde
rlying tension that went along with his own family business. When he’d called off the wedding, Leo had informed his father in no uncertain terms that his life was now entirely in his own hands. No more arrangements, no more promises without his explicit say-so.

  That also included the future of the Beneventi family fortune, the management of which was slated to be passed to Leo upon his father’s death. God knew his younger brother Max wasn’t mature enough to handle such responsibility.

  “How many kids do you have?” Leo asked since she was still packing the picnic basket.

  “Two. My youngest daughter is still in college. She’s currently spending the summer touring Europe.”

  “How fun,” Shannon said, her eyes warming. “I would have loved to do that when I was younger.”

  Interesting that she hadn’t if she was from similar social circles as his own, which was the impression Leo had gotten yesterday. That was kind of a thing for rich kids—go off and sow their wild oats in another country, often multiple times, before coming home, finishing their degree, and doing right by the family business.

  “You still can, you know,” he said. She was young—he guessed mid, maybe late-twenties—and she didn’t appear to be married or have kids, so why the heck not?

  But then again, he was guessing. Weird how he felt like he knew her but honestly knew very little about her.

  A short time later, he loaded the unexpectedly heavy wicker basket into the back of his Yukon Denali, then opened the door so Shannon could hop into the passenger seat before he jogged around to his own side and cranked the engine. He headed west, toward Lake Michigan, and then south to the dunes.

  “Just for clarification’s sake,” he said, “you aren’t married, right? Not that it matters since we’re just friends, but I feel like a husband might not appreciate you spending so much time with me.”

  “Just friends?” she repeated, sounding a little dumbfounded, which was throwing him off because now he really wanted to know what the woman was thinking.

  “Husband?” he asked again.

  She shook her head. “No husband. No kids. No family whatsoever.”

  How come every time she gave him a tidbit, he suddenly had a million more questions?

  “Family’s overrated, trust me. Mine is annoying as hell. Being here, without any of them calling or texting, is like paradise. Makes me never want to go back.”

  “Are they really that bad?” she asked, totally serious.

  He shrugged. “My mom is a socialite, first and foremost. She was totally on board with my arranged marriage, mostly because Bridgette’s family has lots of clout in the Detroit high society scene.

  “My dad owns his own business, so yeah, he didn’t attend many of my rugby games when I was a kid. And then there’s my younger brother, who is currently caught up with the wrong crowd and not listening to any of us when we tell him he needs to make smarter choices. And I know that makes him sound like a teen, but he’s twenty-eight, which makes it even more pathetic.”

  “He’s my age,” Shannon said.

  Leo glanced at her. “Oh yeah? Remind me not to introduce you two.”

  She chuckled. “Trust me, he sounds exactly like the sort of guy I am definitely not into.”

  Leo liked the way she said that. With conviction.

  “You two must be close in age,” Shannon commented.

  “Yep. I’ll be thirty next month.”

  “That’s a milestone birthday. Do you have big plans?”

  “My ex-fiancée was planning a surprise party that I was fully aware of because she was using my credit card to pay for everything. So at the moment, I have no plans.”

  “Is that what you want? A lavish party?”

  “Nope. Not my scene. She was doing it because that’s what she wanted, and I let her because that’s what I do. Did.”

  “If it were your choice, which I guess it is now, what would you do?”

  Leo thought about it for a few moments. What would he like to do for his birthday? “Honestly? I think I’d like to go camping.”

  She laughed. “Really?”

  He shrugged. “Sure. Have you ever been camping?”

  “No.”

  “Me neither. But it seems like fun. Hanging out in the woods for the weekend, eating food cooked over an open fire, drinking beer and sharing ghost stories or funny stories. It seems so…”

  “Normal.”

  He glanced at her swiftly before turning back to the road. “Yes. Exactly.”

  This woman totally got him. They could be really great…friends.

  He turned into the drive leading into the Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes National Park, bought an annual pass because why the hell not, and then sought out a parking space in the shade.

  Maureen had given him a small backpack filled with bottles of water and granola bars, so he looped it over his shoulders, and he and Shannon set out for their day of adventures that did not include anything he’d ever do if he were home or vacationing with his friends or family.

  Translation? He had an amazing time.

  Hours later, they sat at a picnic table and devoured the food Maureen had packed for them. She’d also sent them a bottle of wine, which helped explain why the basket was so damn heavy.

  He poured wine into the glasses she’d also thoughtfully added, and raised his in toast.

  “To the most unexpected and most fun vacation I’ve had to date.”

  Shannon touched the rim of her glass to his and softly said, “Me too,” before taking a delicate sip.

  He cocked his head and told himself not to ask, but then said, “Where are you from, Shannon?”

  Her gaze dropped to her glass, and after a pregnant pause, she said, “I live in Chicago.”

  “Oh yeah? Beautiful city. Love to visit but I don’t think I’d want to live there.”

  “No? Why not?”

  He shrugged one shoulder and took another drink. “To be honest, I want to live in a place like this. Well, not on the sand dunes. Seems like it would be annoying, constantly tracking sand everywhere. Plus, how do you avoid getting sand in your eyes and mouth when it’s windy?” He pretended to shudder, and Shannon laughed.

  “Like Traverse City, I mean. Or, even better, up on one of the peninsulas, north of town. Someplace small, far away from all the drama of the big city.”

  She swirled her wine, another cab franc, which he suspected Maureen had packed on purpose since that had been Shannon’s drink of choice yesterday.

  “Do you have a favorite wine?” he blurted, suddenly craving information about her. Not the big stuff, like what she did for a living or who her family was, but the little nuances that made her who she was. “Are you normally a wine drinker?” he added.

  She sipped. “I used to be. For the last year I’ve been more of a vodka girl.”

  He had the sense he was delving into territory she wasn’t keen to talk about, but he asked anyway. “Was there a reason for the shift?”

  She nodded slowly while staring off into the distance, over his shoulder, where the dunes separated them from Lake Michigan. “A year ago I sort of overhauled my life. Once I made the first change, I obsessively started changing a whole bunch of things, just because I could, because I had that sort of control, for the first time in my life.”

  Holy shit, she really was just like him, except he hadn’t started making the changes yet.

  She touched her hair. “I used to be blond. Bleached blond. I hated it.”

  Leo nodded. “Definitely like you better as a brunette.”

  She smirked. “You’ve never seen me as a blond.”

  “No, but this color suits you. Like you chose it yourself and made it your own.”

  She blinked owlishly and then cleared her throat. “Thanks.”

  “What else?” he prompted. “What other little but significant changes did you make?”

  She raised her wineglass. “The switch to vodka.”

  He winced. “Sorry. I’ll let Maureen know that
you don’t want any more wine.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s fine. It’s really quite delicious, and…and the circumstances are very different. So it’s okay.”

  “There’s a distillery not too far from where we’re staying. The Jack Pine gin is my favorite, but they have some seriously smooth vodka too. I can take you there tomorrow, if you want. Or hell, we can swing by today. Unless you have other plans for this afternoon.”

  She snickered. “Until you showed up, my plans consisted of sitting around that bed and breakfast all week, watching Maureen to figure out how she runs the place. Remember my dream to possess her someday?”

  He chuckled. “I have a better plan if you’re interested.”

  “What’s that?” She leaned forward.

  “Accompany me on all my touristy excursions, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know about the hotel industry. B&Bs are a little different in how they market, but the general concept is the same: provide a clean, comfortable space for guests to use as a base of activity when they are away from home.”

  He shrugged, as if admitting what he did for a living were of no consequence. And, truthfully, that in itself wasn’t an issue; it was his original determination not to let work—or his family, and the two were very much entwined—intrude on this brief respite.

  But this was different. He was helping Shannon, and not because she’d asked but because he wanted to.

  Her eyes widened. “You work in hotels? Where?”

  “Our flagship hotel, which is where my office is located, is in downtown Detroit. But our hotels are all over. The family business is a hotel management company. Which my dad took over from my grandfather when I was a toddler, so I pretty much grew up in and around hotels.”

  “Wow,” she said, but then she shook her head. “I don’t want you to talk business while you’re on vacation. That totally defeats the purpose.”

  “Aren’t you on vacation? And isn’t your vacation to study a business you intend to start someday?”

  “It’s different,” she insisted. “I made these plans with that purpose in mind. You expected to come here to get away from business. So no, we are not talking hotels while we are here. But if you want to take me to that distillery, I will not object.” Her tone went from serious to playful in an instant, and, suddenly, he wanted to keep the playful edge.