Alex: sorry to cancel our plans at the last minute. I'll get in touch soon.

I stared down at the lifeless message from earlier, wondering where Alex's exuberant text voice had gone. And then, feeling bad that I didn't actually care. 

About the texts, that is. 

I did care that he'd canceled on me.

Considering I'd invited him over for dinner tonight, so I could tell him things weren't really working on my end, it was a little inconvenient that he wouldn't be here.

I stuffed my hands back into the mixing bowl, working my frustrations out on the ground beef that would soon become meatballs, thinking about my woes. Thinking about Spence and wishing I wasn't.

Ever since my visit to his house, my head was a bigger mess than usual. Cutting Alex loose would take one thing off my plate, but I needed to gather all my thoughts and feelings and figure out what the hell I was doing with my life.

Why did everything always have to be so confusing?

"Stai attento, Davina Grace," my mother scolded from the dining room table. "You are being too rough with the meat."

Ladies and gentlemen, my replacement dinner guest. She'd brought cheesecake for dessert and a handful of criticism along.

"You said to blend it all together," I sighed, pulling my hands from the mixing bowl. I never thought making meatballs would involve so many strict rules, even a tried-and-true family recipe that was supposedly one hundred years old.

"I said to just blend," she reminded me. "You're practically punching the ingredients together. The meatballs will come out too hard if you beat the meat like that."

Her choice of words had Dante snort laughing from his spot under my sink where he was fixing a leaky pipe, a task I'd been putting off far too long since I didn't feel right asking Spence to do it.

I shot my brother a look of disapproval, but he was right. Our sweet, innocent mother and her slight language barrier caused a little trouble now and then.

"Mother..." I cringed. "Don't say beat the meat. It doesn't mean what you think it does."

Her brows furrowed. "What does it mean?"

"Well, it kinda means what you said," I explained. "It just means...other things too."

"What other things?"

"Really not comfortable with where this conversation is heading," Dante muttered as he sat up, wrench in hand. "If you're going to elaborate further, I'm leaving."

"You will not," I told him firmly. Even though, once again, he was right.

Mom was big on asking questions for a full understanding, and if I wasn't careful, we would be having a chat not at all appropriate for family dinner.

And if Dante was serious about excusing himself, it was extra important to change the subject. I didn't want to spook him away when he was finally visiting Mom. He hadn't seen her in weeks, and it was months since the three of us shared a meal together.

I never expected him to show up when I texted him about having a last-minute family dinner at my house, so I was shocked when he walked through the door a little bit ago.

Mom on the other hand? Well, she was simply over the moon to see him. It was written all over her face anytime she glanced between us, her smile huge, and I was prepared to do whatever it took to keep it there.

"If you're done under the sink, you can help Mom with the garlic bread," I told Dante, tilting my head toward the Italian loaf on the counter.

He narrowed his eyes on me, all too aware of my schemes to keep him busy and useful and present. "You got it, sis."

For the next half hour, I rolled and cooked the meatballs, watched the sauce on the stove, and boiled the pasta.

I was happy to handle everything I could so as not to interrupt the flow of conversation at the table where Dante was discussing the latest James Bond film with Mom. One of her favorite actors would be portraying the famous character my brother had always admired, which made for some lovely common ground.

When everything was ready to go, I was bringing the dishes over to set around the table when Dante's phone went off.

In a mere half second, the movie talk came to an abrupt end, and he was all business as he checked the screen.

With caution in them, his eyes beamed over to me and then back to his phone. "I have to take this," he mumbled as he came to his feet.

He hadn't told us to go ahead and eat without him, so that was a good sign. But who knew how long this call would take? After all the trouble that went into making the meatballs, I wanted to enjoy them fresh. But whatever.

I set the dishes down on the table and plopped into the seat next to Mom. "He better not keep dinner waiting. Or worse, abandon it entirely for some stupid work mission."

Mom clicked her tongue a couple times and shook her head. "The most important thing is that he's safe. No matter where the call takes him."

It hurt my heart that her expectations had already given way to the greater chance of him not making it back in to eat. But who could blame her?

How many dinners had my father abandoned over the years? And how often had that poor example shown my brothers that it was perfectly fine to skip out in the name of business?

"How do you do that?" I asked her.

She gave me a look. "Do what?"

I thought about my words carefully. And not just because I was irritated at her constantly letting my brother off the hook.

Maybe, after that visit with Spencer, I was also thinking about my choices and wondering if they were worth all the pain I was causing my heart.

Maybe, somewhere, deep down, I think I was looking for pointers. For hope and guidance.

"How do you compartmentalize Dante's work to the concept of him just staying safe?" I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling a chill on my skin. "How do you ignore the actual danger he's in and pretend like he's not breaking the law?"

Mom shook her head. "It is what it is, Davina."

Her words grated on my patience. She used to say the same thing about Dad before he got put away. The same thing about Dalton before he died.

I let out a humorless laugh. "That can't possibly be your answer still. These people are criminals with possible ties to," my voice dropped to a whisper, "the mafia. This business is full of dirty cops and corrupt politicians, drug dealers. People who hurt other people or play a part in it. How do you handle that?"

Mom swallowed hard and her head tilted in thought as she stared back at me. "Do you really want to know, Davina Grace?"

I nodded. "Yes."

I didn't just want to know. I needed to know.

Her eyes left mine. She picked at the loose threads on the tablecloth and sighed. "It's really not hard when you think about it. All you do is love the person and hate the business."

"There's no way it's that simple," I argued. "This is a moral issue, Mom. These people do bad things. You can't just forgive that."

"Love forgives a lot." She shrugged. "It all comes down to what you're willing to live with and settle for."

I shook my head. There was probably no use in trying to reason with her. My father had kept her in the dark about many of the unsavory things he did for Amato. I often wondered how much she really knew about the business or the lies he'd told to keep her amiable.

As for me, I knew better, and there was only so much I'd tolerate. No matter how much I loved a person. Even someone like–

Nevermind.

"Davina," my brother's voice called from the entryway. "Come here."

I scoffed. "Why?"

"Now."

My wide eyes shot to Mom, seeking defense for the way her son was speaking to me, her daughter who just cooked dinner for everyone.

"Are you gonna let him talk to me like that?"

She just smirked and tipped her chin in the direction of the front door. "Go," she muttered. "I'll keep an eye on things in here."

I rolled my eyes. "Favorite child much?"

"You're still my favorite daughter," she sang out.

When I trudged around the corner and into the entryway, Dante was holding the screen door open for me, anger settled in his furrowed brow. "Let's go," he fired off.

"What's your deal?" I fired back as soon as the door slammed shut behind us.

Turning to face me, Danta crossed his arms over his chest and got right to the point. "Talk to me about your friend Alex."

His tone was so volatile, the question completely catching me off guard. I hadn't bothered telling him about Alex because I didn't feel like dealing with his shit. I knew he'd be worried about me hanging around with an outsider, and I'd gotten enough of that from Spence.

But I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that he found out anyway. That's a smalltown for ya.

"What about him?" I asked, playing it off like I hadn't been keeping anything from him.

"You heard me. Who the hell is he and why is he lying about his name?"

"What?" My stomach dropped. "He's not..."

"That was my PI on the phone," Dante elaborated. "He just finished looking up every possible variation of the name Alex Ryan and hasn't found a single one in the tri-state area that fits the bill of this stranger you've been seeing."

I threw a hand up. "Why the hell do you have a PI looking into him?"

"Who the hell is this guy, Davina?" he asked, ignoring my question entirely as he shook his head and paced the length of the porch. "How could you be so fucking careless? I told you to be careful."

"I am being careful," I insisted, feeling angry and defensive, but the words were frail as they came pouring out of my mouth on an anxious breath.

I felt my heartbeat pounding in my ears, my mind reeling with this new development. I didn't know where to put all my thoughts, how to sort through all the questions and confusion.

It wasn't simply the intel I'd just been given. That was a hard enough pill to swallow as my brain went into overdrive, trying to think of all the things I'd ever shared with him, and trying to remember what he had shared with me.

But I also couldn't ignore the invasion of privacy and the way Dante's accusation was sticking to my skin like a spider's web of intrusion. Who did he think he was?

Alex wasn't a stranger.

When I said as much out loud, Dante laughed at me. "Do you even know the guy?"

Yes, was my first immediate thought, I know him.

He helped me out when I had car trouble in Renlow Park, told me about his brother who worked at a restaurant up the road, shared things about his childhood in upstate New York. He loved the snow and fantasy-action movies. Enjoyed old episodes of Law & Order.

I jogged my mind for everything else, some of the more important things, knowing I must've been missing a few details that could help my case.

But nothing else came to mind.

Oh fuck.

Our conversations were always generic. I kept it that way for a reason. We were taking things slow.

And that's when the real answer actually hit me.

No. I didn't know Alex. At least not very well.

It was mostly my fault. I'd been calling those shots, keeping the deep conversations at bay, steering things to stay casual. It was how I wanted it, but that didn't matter to my brother.

It wouldn't matter to him that I was about to cut things off with Alex either. All that mattered was I'd gotten myself into a situation that didn't look good.

"Listen," I said to Dante, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "Alex Ryan is probably a pretty common name. This has to be a misunderstanding. Maybe he spells his full name differently or something. Or his last name is–"

Hang on...

My words trailed off as my thoughts took flight. Dante was shaking his head again, but all I could think about was Alex's name and the fact that I hadn't told anyone except Leann what his last name was.

"Wait a minute." I narrowed my eyes on Dante. "How do you know his last name? Did you talk to Leann?"

He scoffed at that. "Leann wouldn't tell me shit."

"Then how did you find out his last name?"

"I promised I wouldn't tell," he smirked.

"Oh, like your promises are worth anything." I rolled my eyes and shoved his arm. "Who told you?"

A heavy silence passed between us. Dante gave me a blank stare before his eyes darted across the street for a split second and then came back. "Who do you think?"

I didn't have to work hard for the answer. It presented itself in the distant rumble of a motorcycle, and the reminder of who lived in the house he'd just glanced at across the street.

"That insufferable asshole," I mumbled under my breath as I looked over at Spencer's house. "I told him not to run Alex's name."

Dante laughed. "Don't be too hard on him. His detective work might've just saved your life."

"That's a bit dramatic."

Just then, that distant motorcycle got closer and closer as Spence appeared at one end of the street, zipping past the other houses before pulling into his driveway with speed and finesse.

The moment he hopped off the bike, I charged over there to confront him.

"Hey, jerk-wad!"

Spence yanked his helmet off and turned to face me, amusement abounding in his multi-colored eyes. "You can do better than that."

"King of the jerk squad?" I tried again. "Nosy shit?"

He laughed. "We really need to work on your insults, Diva Davina."

Diva Davina, ugh.

"And you really need to work on your terms of endearment."

While I normally didn't mind it, his little nickname for me was officially testing my patience as I made my way up the driveway, Dante long forgotten on my porch. Our mother long forgotten in my kitchen.

Crap. I'd completely forgotten about dinner.

Spence strutted toward me, and we met in the middle. "What would you rather I called you?" he asked, his voice rolling out all deep and gravelly. "Princess? Sweetheart?" He bounced his eyebrows at me and dropped to a whisper, "Baby?"

Oh boy. Any of those would work.

No, they wouldn't.

Focus.

"Cut the shit, John."

That got his attention.

Spence straightened his spine, his lip curling with distaste at the first name he'd been given but hated. "Don't call me that."

"Don't tell me what to do," I fired back.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Spencer sighed. His eyes took a small trip across the street to my house, acknowledging Dante with a nod before coming back to me. "I assume your brother filled you in on the bad news about your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend," I clarified quickly before getting to the point. "Why are you looking into him? Who told you his last name?"

"I have my sources." He shrugged. "And it's a good thing, too. Considering he fucking lied to you."

"You don't know that. There could be a million reasons why his name didn't come up in a database." I couldn't think of a single good one at the moment, but I wasn't going to mention that out loud. "I specifically said I didn't want you looking him up. What is your problem, Spencer?"

"Did Dante tell you he drives a rental car?" 

"What?" I gasped, his question felt like a sucker punch to my gut. 

The hits just kept on coming, didn't they? 

Seeing my obvious shock, Spence nodded. "Nebraska plates. There's an Enterprise sticker on the back window. You didn't notice?"

"Uh, no," I answered, trying to give off more confidence than I felt. How did I fucking miss that? "Whenever I'm sliding into his passenger seat, the last thing on my mind is wondering if his car is a rental. What does that even matter anyway?"

Dante came up behind me and chimed in on that one. "Why does he drive a rental?"

I spun around to face him. "Why can't he drive a rental?"

"Why would he drive a rental?" Spencer asked.

As the two of them ganged up on me, I felt completely helpless. With no warning at all, they'd managed to shift my entire view on Alex within a fifteen-minute timeframe, and I hated them for that.

Things between me and Alex were fizzling out anyway. I'd accepted that my feelings for him just weren't there, but now I felt the intense need to defend him regardless. It didn't feel right to let him get thrown under the bus.

"I told you, he's not from here," I reminded Spence. "He's from New York, only here to visit his brother."

A brother I had yet to meet...

A brother who owned a restaurant I'd never been to, despite the many opportunities Alex and I had to grab dinner there.

Oh my god. What is happening?

"And he'd rather rent a car than drive his own? From a state over in New York?" Spence interrupted my dire thoughts, raising a skeptical brow. "Not very economical."

"That's none of my business and it's certainly not yours!" I ran a frustrated hand through my hair.

"We're waiting on a call to find out the name it's registered to," Dante added. "Bet it's not the one he gave you."

"Geez, you two are really grasping for straws here. Remember when you guys hated each other? Now you're out here swapping intel like you're on some undercover mission."

Dante rolled his eyes at me. "Look, we're just presenting evidence. If you're too naive to see the facts, that's fine. But you're not just putting yourself at risk here." He looked between me and Spence, eyes wary. "I told you, weeks ago, to stay aware of your surroundings and be cautious of newcomers around town. That we don't know who–"

He stopped himself from finishing that thought, not wanting to overshare in front of Spencer, but I knew exactly where he was going with it.

I was supposed to be careful because a bunch of assholes from Chicago were coming in and we couldn't trust them. I hadn't forgotten.

But I also didn't think I'd been outright careless either. Alex and I hadn't met around town, and he seemed like a nice guy. Even if I felt nothing for him.

Sure, I had a few good questions for him now, but did the answers even matter if our time together was coming to an end anyway?

I looked up at the sky, breathing slowly through the disappointment and trying to think of my next move. Should I cut things off over text? Ghost him? Ask him why his name didn't come up when my brother had a private investigator look into him?

Good grief.

As my head kept spinning, my phone buzzed in my back pocket, making me jump.

Alex: can we grab dinner tomorrow? I can pick you up at seven

Well, look at that. It was already time to start making decisions.

Spence and Dante stared at me as I stared at my phone.

"It's Alex," I muttered to neither of them in particular. "He wants to get dinner tomorrow."

The dynamic duo pulled in close, checking the screen over my shoulder.

"Don't answer," Spence said. "You shouldn't text or see him until we have more information."

Dante scoffed and challenged that with, "Tell him yes. We need to do some recon."

I glanced between the two of them and shook my head. "Very helpful, boys. If you're going to be a team now, you should probably jump on the same side."

"We're not a team," Spence quickly interjected, giving Dante a pointed look before coming back to me. "Clearly, we have two very different ideas of how to go about this. I happen to like the one that keeps you out of harm's way."

"And I prefer the one where we get answers," Dante said with an eye roll. "But I suppose the choice is yours, sis."

"You guys sound stupid," I mumbled as I stared at the screen. "We don't even know for sure if Alex is a threat."

"Better safe than sorry," they said at the same time.

I studied the expression on each of their faces, noting the concern in Spencer's brow and the way Dante kept working his jaw, eyes busy with anxiety.

It was the most intense I'd seen my brother get in a matter that didn't directly involve Amato business, knowing that this one was more about Dalton and the potential threat of his killer being nearby.

It was nice to see him so concerned about a family matter for once. And I decided right then that I'd help him get the answers he wanted. Maybe in the process, we could clear Alex's name. And then I could politely let him know I didn't want to see him anymore.

A win on all sides, right?

Davina: Sounds good! see you then!