Fair Play Read Online Free PDF Page B

gone to school with, boys who were just like their fathers and their brothers and their uncles. And they all lived within ten minutes of their parents and siblings. Their whole life revolved around la famiglia —which was fine, if that’s what you wanted.
    But Theresa never had.
    When she was in high school, she’d take the subway into Manhattan every chance she could and just walk around, exploring. Bookstores were her favorite: the Strand and Partners & Crime in the Village, where she could gorge on mysteries. And the Public Library on Forty-second Street. God, she loved that place—still did—with its reverential silence and implicit promise of transformation. Those trips to Manhattan were what helped her realize she wanted to go to college and major in English. Her family actively encouraged her dream. So why was it, now that she’d carved out a successful life for herself, they held it against her, accusing her of getting too big for her britches and forgetting about her roots? She didn’t get it. Didn’t parents want their children to spread their wings and fly? Why were her folks always trying to drag her back down into the nest?
    She suspected part of it was because she was still single. So what if she ran her own business, lived in the city, and occasionally brushed elbows with the rich and famous in the course of her work? In her family, what mattered was getting married and having babies. Her mother and sister-in-law were constantly on her case, offering to set her up with friends of cousins and neighbors, always wanting to know if she’d met anyone “nice”—a polite code word for “Italian.” Too bad I don’t like Michael Dante, she mused. He’d be right up their alley.
    Michael Dante . . .
    Thankfully, the meeting hadn’t been as uncomfortable as she’d expected, though she was displeased she’d let her guard down even momentarily, and the bizarro older brother was a little unnerving. She tried to recall if she’d met Anthony at Ty and Janna’s wedding or any Blades functions, but came up blank. He must have been hiding in the kitchen the whole time. Pondering the Dante account, her gaze was drawn to the small Miro lithograph hanging across the room, which led her to thinking about the artwork—if you could call it that—at the restaurant. God, was it awful. How could she tactfully suggest a new look? Yawning, she glanced up at the clock. Quarter to five. Resignedly, she picked up the phone to call Lou Capesi, when a knock sounded at her door and Janna stuck her head inside.
    â€œGot a minute?”
    â€œOf course.” Theresa put the phone back in the cradle. “How did it go with Piazza?”
    Janna gave a big thumbs-up, smiling broadly. “I think he’s going to have us work for his charitable foundation.”
    â€œThat’s great! ” Theresa hadn’t realized how tense she had been. Hearing Janna’s good news, she could feel her hunched shoulders slowly lowering.
    â€œHow’d it go at Dante’s?”
    â€œWell, the good news is he committed to a year, not a month-by-month.”
    Janna perched on the edge of the desk. “That’s fantastic.”
    â€œThe bad news is the brother, who’s the head chef and runs the place, had a total conniption about my being there and wants nothing to do with any of it.”
    â€œYou’ll just have to work around him.”
    â€œI hope I can work it, period,” said Theresa uneasily. “I’ve never handled a restaurant account before. I think I might be in over my head.”
    â€œYou’ll be fine.”
    â€œWhat if I’m not?”
    â€œTer, we don’t have a choice,” Janna said grimly. “We need the money.”
    â€œRight.”
    Janna gazed thoughtfully into space. “I think I might know someone at the Food Network.”
    â€œThat would be great. Maybe we could get them on