Page 16 of Hooked

Not to mention the effect that image has on my body.

“Are you sure, Vinny?” Oscar asks. “I hate to impose. But she told me her work stuff is in here, and I’d feel bad if my arrogance hurt her bottom line.”

Bottom line. Her ass in those tight pants.

“Let’s move them into my place.”

“Could it be a surprise?” Oscar asks, hopefully. “Danny told me her birthday is on Christmas.”

Interesting. She hadn’t mentioned anything about that. Wouldn’t someone obsessed with things and parties be shouting that from the rooftops? Well, the ones that weren’t missing shingles anyway.

“Sure,” I say. The timing doesn’t matter to me either way. We’ll get her stuff patched up and sent back with her to Boston after the holidays are blessedly over.

Kristi’s stare bores into me. I don’t want any part of the assumptions she’s making here.

Sia’s accusations around my own assumptions bubble up, and I don’t like it. Time for a distraction. I’ll throw Kristi off and get back in control of the situation.

“Sven—are you still bartending at the Dockside tonight?”

“I am,” he replies. His voice is slightly accented, picked up from his parents. “There’s music tonight. I know you’re not one for going out, but you should come.” His face turns a delightful shade of red as his gaze shifts to Kristi. Something Sia could match to her poinsettias.

“Now that’s an idea,” Kristi muses. She doesn’t seem flustered at all. God, I should know when I’m outmatched. “I’ll go too. Meet there at nine?”

I’d intended to distract her, but now if I didn’t go it’d seem strange, even for me.

“Time to make one of your rare public appearances, Esposito,” she says, slapping me on the back. “Now let’s get these bags in the ol’ fish shack before we all freeze out here.”

“It’s not that cold,” Sven says.

No game at all, that one.

“Maybe not with your Norse blood,” she says. “But my people are from Honduras. My blood hasn’t thickened up yet.”

I take the bags from him. He could put his arm around her right now and solve this problem, but he’s hopeless. Instead he asks her about the knots Oscar used, and he and Oscar get into a spirited debate about that.

Kristi rolls her eyes and catches up with me. We drag Sia’s bags behind us, and she helps me take them into the kitchen unseen.

“Cold in here too,” she says, hugging herself.

“My power was out until this morning, and with part of the roof gone.” I shrug. “It’ll heat up. Hopefully I’ll be able to dry out the Christmas Queen’s stash.”

Kristi levels me with another of her stares. “Sure. See ya at 9 P.M., Esposito.”

Once she leaves, I unzip the first bag. It’s mostly clothing. Fancy brand name stuff. I turn a black, high-heeled shoe over in my hand. The sole is red. This shoe probably costs more than my truck.

I told Oscar I’d help him, though.

The shoes she brought did seem to hold up to water damage better than most would because of the quality of leather, I have to admit. Everything is briney, though, so I’d take the shoes to the town cobbler for repair, and the clothes to the dry cleaner’s.

They could always use off-season business.

I’d get paid by the Guard for the rescue, and that money would be better invested in the community anyway. What do I need beyond the summer revenue from my takeout business, anyway?

Next, I find a small cloth bag which is stiff from salt. Inside is a zip-top plastic bag full of expensive-looking jewelry.

Glad even someone as fancy as Sia could see the practicality of a simple zip-top plastic bag.

Putting that aside, I spot a larger cloth bag. Jesus, how much jewelry does one woman need? Sighing, I open it up and it’s not jewelry.

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