The Redemption of Rico D'Angelo. Michelle Douglas
as if they’ll be okay once they’re cleaned up.’ She opened a cupboard door and grimaced as a cockroach scuttled away. ‘It’s far too dark in here, and that’s going to be a real issue. We’ll need strip lighting all the way along here. We need to see properly. I can’t risk anyone’s safety around hot stoves and sharp knives. I wouldn’t risk fully-trained, experienced staff, let alone novices.’
‘The boys will learn!’
‘Of course they will.’ She wiped a finger along a bench and inspected her finger with a grimace. ‘But they’ll learn much quicker and more safely with proper lighting.’
He blew out a breath. ‘That’ll cost a fortune.’
She eased back and folded her arms. ‘Did you ask me here for my honest opinion or to pat you on the back and tell you what a fabulous job you’re doing?’
He stuck out his jaw and glared. She could see that behind the glare he was frantically calculating the budget he had to work with. ‘That peanut rent suddenly makes a lot of sense,’ he growled.
‘How much are you paying?’
He told her and she shrugged. ‘We’re smack-bang in the middle of Hobart’s tourist hub. You’re still getting a great deal.’
He didn’t say anything. She wasn’t even sure he’d heard her.
‘What’s out that way?’
He shook himself. ‘Storeroom, staff bathroom and the back door.’
He led the way, throwing open the storeroom door as he passed. Something furry brushed past her ankles. She let out a little scream.
Rico swung to her. ‘Wha—?’
‘Out the back door. Now!’
She pushed him all the way out into the cement courtyard, then stamped her feet up and down three times and shuddered twice. ‘Yuck!’
Rico stared at her as if she’d lost her senses. ‘What on earth are you doing?’
She stabbed a finger at him. ‘I can deal with mice, and I’m even prepared to take a shoe to a cockroach, but I absolutely and utterly draw the line at rats!’
His face darkened. ‘There aren’t any rats.’
‘Oh, no?’ She pointed behind him. ‘Then what do you call that thing creeping down the back steps?’
CHAPTER THREE
RICO SWORE ONCE, violently. The rodent scuttled down the steps and slunk behind some garbage bins.
A rat. A goddamn rat! The Health Department would have a field day with that. For a moment his vision of a thriving chain of charity cafés blurred and threatened to slip out of reach. Unless...
He glanced at Neen. Unless he could convince her to keep her pretty mouth shut about the incident. Unless he could—
He broke off his thoughts to drag a hand down his face. What on earth was he thinking? He couldn’t put the public’s health at risk like that. Besides, that kind of scandal would scupper all his plans. But...
His head dropped. His shoulders sagged. He was so darn tired of fighting for every allowance, for every penny of government money, for every—
He stiffened. Get over yourself, D’Angelo! You have nothing to complain about.
All-too-familiar bile filled his mouth. He lifted his head and pushed his shoulders back to find Neen surveying him with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.
His gut clenched. Then a car backfired and she jumped and whirled around. She turned back, patting her chest. ‘Rodents make me jumpy,’ she said with a weak smile.
His lip curled. Rodents of the ex-boyfriend variety.
‘Are you up to date on your tetanus shots?’
That threw him. ‘Yes.’
She pointed at the door. ‘Then you can go back through there, switch off the lights and lock up. I’ll meet you out the front.’ She headed for the gate. ‘Oh, and grab my handbag, please? It’s on the counter in the kitchen.’
And then she disappeared.
Scowling, he did as she’d asked and met her on the footpath in front of the café. He handed over her handbag and tried to think of something encouraging to say but couldn’t think of a single thing. Her eyes were too bright, too perceptive. She’d witnessed his moment of despair and it didn’t matter how much he wished she hadn’t. It was too late now—he didn’t have the energy to make light of rats or cockroaches or dodgy wiring.
He went to unlock the car, but she shook her head and took his arm. ‘C’mon.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘We’re having an emergency meeting.’
‘A...? Where?’
‘At the pub around the corner.’
‘But...’
She stopped and kinked an eyebrow at him. ‘But what?’
He didn’t know. Just...but.
She let go of his arm and kept walking, but he noticed the way she scanned the surroundings. As if waiting for something unpleasant to jump out at her.
He hesitated for a fraction of a moment before setting off after her. ‘I have work to do.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Ain’t that the truth?’
A weight fell onto his shoulders so heavy he thought it might flatten him into the ground.
‘And excuse me if I correct you, Rico, but we have work to do.’
The weight eased a fraction. He moved forward to open the pub door for her. ‘What would you like to drink?’
She lifted her chin, her eyes almost daring him to contradict her. ‘It’s been a hell of a week, and I’m thirsty.’
He couldn’t have explained why, but his lips started to twitch. ‘A schooner of their finest?’
She smiled. ‘You better make it a light. I don’t want to go all giggly and stupid. And a packet of crisps—salt and vinegar. I’ll be over there.’ She pointed to a table in the corner.
When he returned, he found her seated with a pen and pad in front of her. She sipped the beer he handed her. She tore open the packet of crisps and crunched one.
‘Okay, we need to make a list of what needs doing and prioritise it.’
He set his lemon squash on the table with a thump. Rather than despair, he should have started troubleshooting—like Neen. He should have been proactive. He was usually so—
Louis’s birthday. He fell into a chair. Today should have been Louis’s birthday, and the knowledge had taunted him from the moment he’d opened his eyes that morning, surrounding him in darkness and a morass of self-loathing.
He jerked in his seat when he found himself the subject of Neen’s scrutiny again.
‘When was the last time you had a decent night’s sleep?’ she asked.
Ten years ago.
The unbidden answer made him flinch. He stared back at her and ferociously cut off that line of thought. ‘I could ask the same of you,’ he said, noting the dark circles under her eyes.
A shadow flitted across her face and he immediately wished the words unsaid. Some jerk was harassing her. Of course that would be playing havoc with her peace of mind. Then there was that dinner of hers last night, which obviously hadn’t gone well. The last thing she needed was to be reminded of her troubles.
‘What happened at dinner last night?’
He couldn’t believe