The immediate thought that I wanted to show him what to do to me flashed through my brain. A tidal wave of heat swelled up from my chest and floated to my hair follicles at all the naughty things I drummed up.
Good God. I was on a fast track to Hell for sure.
This had to stop. There was no way I could function and perform my managerial duties if I kept picturing the two of us naked and busy every time he looked at, or spoke to, me.
I cleared my throat then tried to block the erotic images swirling about in my head.
“Lunch deliveries are our busiest,” I said, rising again from my chair. “Come on. I’ll show you where the orders are kept. It takes planning the route from place to place to ensure we’re not late. People don’t want to wait until almost the end of the day for a lunch order.”
When he opened the door to my office and then waited until I stepped out into the hallway before joining me, it was on the tip of my tongue to make a snarky remark about his manners as I’d done to Angelo days ago. Blessedly, my mouth stayed shut. Annoying Ange, who’d been a fixture at our dinner table for years and was almost considered an adopted brother, felt normal to me. I didn’t care what he thought of me and that’s the honest truth.
I didn’t want Tony to see me as a sassy, annoying, almost-sister the way Angelo did. Deep down, and even though I knew he never would, I wanted Tony to see me as something…more.
And wasn’t that a kick in the keister?
Having a shadow everywhere I went was, at the best of times, annoying. I much preferred working alone and moving from task to task without having to explain myself or give details at every turn. Having a six-foot-plus hunk of badass gorgeousness glued to my side all morning was distracting on every level.
After showing him where the orders were placed, I then moved on to getting them ready. On a normal day this took me anywhere from an hour to ninety minutes. I knew where every item in the deli was located and had developed a streamlined system for putting orders together. Today it took much longer because I had to constantly stop and explain everything. In addition, because it was our first day back, my employees and several customers kept stopping me and peppering me with questions.
By the time I looked down at my watch it was time to pack everything up and get going.
“Here are the keys to the van.” I handed them to Tony. “It’s better if you drive because you need to get a feel for how the van handles, plus you need to be able to plan your route.”
We lugged the boxes filled with lunch orders and the daily meals we delivered to our shut-in customers out to the back parking lot. Tony plugged the first address into the GPS then pulled us into traffic.
“How come you don’t deliver to the regular, neighborhood customers until last?” he asked as he navigated onto the West Side Highway.
“Most days our delivery guy is the only person they might see. Some of them can be chatty. I encouraged Chico to spend a few extra minutes with them because they’re lonely. Saving them until last ensures the business deliveries get done in a timely fashion and the extra time spent with the older folks makes their day a little brighter.”
“That’s really sweet,” he said. “I bet they appreciate it.”
“They do. Chico was well liked. I got a bunch of calls about him over the months he worked for us, telling me how pleasant he was and how accommodating. He’s gonna be missed.”
“Have you told people he’s dead?”
“Yeah. Since daddy and I have been delivering to the shut-ins while the store’s been closed, we’ve spoken to them in person.”
“Did you tell them how he died? I need to know so we have the same story.”
I nodded. “Makes sense. I explained it was sudden and unexpected. That’s it. No details. A couple asked if there was some place they could send a mass card or donate to a fund for his family. I didn’t know what to tell them. Do you?”
He didn’t answer right away because he was concentrating on merging into the heavy mid-morning New York traffic. Once he was in the lane he wanted, he flicked a quick glance at me and said, “His body hasn’t been released yet. It’s still at the city morgue because his death is an open investigation.”
“So, no mass or memorial?”
“Not yet.”
Which was just sad.
In my family, whenever someone died, be it family, friend, or even foe, we found such comfort and solace in a big splashy, emotion-laden wake, funeral mass, and burial. Of course the comfort and solace involved wailing and screeching like our limbs were being dismembered as we stood over the casket, bedecked in black from head to toe, including underwear, shoes and stockings. My nonna Constanza had lost her husband when she was in her mid-thirties, a still young and vibrant woman. She wore black every day, from top to bottom, until she died of natural causes at a still healthy ninety-six.
Think about that. She wore nothing but black for the next sixty-plus years. Commitment like that is rare. Of course, it makes getting dressed every day pretty easy from a selection and color standpoint.
We came to the first business delivery on the West Side a few minutes later. Tony had been silent for the most part as he concentrated on driving.
“They already paid, so all you have to do is stop at the reception desk and leave the bag there with the receipt and a menu flyer. If the receptionist asks about Chico tell them you’re taking over his delivery route. That’s it.”
One corner of his mouth twitched up. “No small talk?”
“No. You’ve got other customers waiting. Don’t stop and flirt.”
“I don’t flirt. People just like to talk to me.”
I waved my hand in the air. “Call it whatever you want, but don’t linger.”
He saluted me and said, “Yes, boss,” before he went into the building. Less than five minutes later he came back.
“You get any questions?”
His smile took its time growing across his mouth. “No questions.”
“Why are you grinning like that?”
“I didn’t get asked any questions, but the cute blonde at the reception desk gave me her number.”
“Why am I not surprised?” I mumbled and shook my head.
Tony’s grin went up a few notches.
Two hours later we finished with the businesses.
“These same places get lunch deliveries every day?” Tony asked as he pulled back into traffic.
“Mostly. Why?”
“I think the link to finding Chico’s murderer is through them. Half the places had receptionists who wouldn’t let me go anywhere above the lobby. The other half didn’t and I delivered straight to the person who ordered. Contact like that makes me think someone along his route is in with Track.”
“The businesses we deliver to are all respectable, legit ones,” I said. “I can’t see any of them involved with drug dealers.”
Tony shook his head. “You live in a very insulated world, Donna. Just because your family and your business are on the up and up, well, except for Sonny, doesn’t mean all places are the same. There are a few things all these places have in common. They’re successful and comprised of mostly younger workers. Expendable cash and a clientele who likes to indulge are ready made for drug use.”