Alessia (Casella Cousins #4) - Kathryn Shay Page 0,4
din of company around her. She spent too many hours alone. She stared at the material on the table, and sighed heavily. The task ahead of her was daunting. Focusing on that would make her forget Derek had asked Jane Carlin out. None of her business, though.
“Hey, Alessia. Mind if I join you?” He stood before her looking lethal in worn jeans and navy sweatshirt. “If you aren’t busy.”
“I’m busy, but I’ve been at this for two days and still don’t know the best way to organize it.” She held up a circular board made of index card material.
Taking that as a yes, he slid in the booth across from her. “What’s the wheel for?”
“I told you my cousin and brother are having a double wedding. Hayley put me in charge of the seating.”
“That sounds like fun. The wedding, I mean. When is it?”
“Saturday.” Again, she sighed
“Tell me why this is so hard.” He seemed interested, which boggled her mind.
“I can’t decide if I should mix and mingle the families or put them all together like tradition holds.”
“Mix and Mingle.”
“Why?”
“Are there people who don’t get along?”
“Yes. Mostly with Hayley’s mother, but I figured she could sit with Finn, her son, and his fiancée. No one wants to be near her.”
“Wouldn’t that ruin Finn’s night?”
“I guess it would. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“In any case, if they end up together, then so be it.”
“Paul’s parents probably want to sit together.”
“How do you know that? Tradition?”
“Hmm. I’ll try this your way.” She picked up the bag she’d brought all this in. I need to make out the names.”
“I’ll help. You do half.”
Alessia tore up some legal yellow paper and they wrote a name from the list on the twenty-four slips. She put them in the bag and shook it up. Held it out. “You pick.”
“Me? Why?”
“Because this was your idea.”
“How many tables?”
“Three.”
“Here goes.” He drew a name. “Matka. Who’s that?”
“Paul’s mother. He’s the groom.”
She laughed when she picked the next one. “Pa, her husband.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “That solves that.”
“Next, Carmella plus one?”
“Two seats.”
He picked more. “Jakub and his wife.”
Finn and Millie were next.
“Whew! We dodged the Bridget bullet.”
With an amused expression on his face, he said, “Alessia, you have control over this you know. If you’re unhappy with a draw, put the name back in.”
“Okay, table two. He drew another name. Anabelle. Then Gideon.
Oh, her brother was going to love being with his competitor for the sergeant’s job.
But she left it. The other tables fell into place nicely.
“Hmm,” Derek said taking out the last slip, which would be hers. “You’ve got a plus one.”
“I do. I thought about bringing my oldest son, but he didn’t want to come and kids aren’t invited anyway.”
“You should have a date, Alessia.”
“With who?”
“Somebody dashing, and good conversationalist, easy going.” His grin was wry.
Her heartbeat speeding up, she smiled broadly. “Derek, are you asking to be my plus one?”
“I accept the compliment. And, yes, that’s what I’m asking.”
She should ask about Jane, but shit, if Derek wanted to see her, too, she’d think about asking him to accompany her.
For about a minute. “Actually, I’d like that very much.”
“Yeah, I would, too.”
* * *
On Friday night, before he went out on his date with Jane, Derek dropped down on the couch with his laptop and typed in the name of the person who’d been up on her computer that day in her office. Stuart Breed.
He hacked into the school enrollment roles. Stuart’s application came up. He was 19. No next of kin. He gave a nearby house as his address. Derek jotted down the young man’s information. Before he went on, he checked out the location. It was a boarding house. He rented one room. Back in the school site, he read the kid’s essay.
I want to go to City College because I want to mean something to someone. To the world. So far, I have not. Even though I lived in a group home, I did as well as I could in high school. I have no family, no friends, but I’d like to make some. As far as choosing your school, I want to teach so I can instill confidence in young children so they don’t become me.
Stuart’s essay was the biography of a person ripe for trafficking.
No next of kin, aka no family, no friends, life in a group home, now a boarding house, mediocre student. Not one to be missed much. The traffickers preyed on the lonely and vulnerable.
His gaze traveled