He’d seen the way Bernie had reacted when he described his life to her. She’d said she could cope, that it wouldn’t matter. It would matter.
“Please don’t tell Bernie I said anything to you,” she said softly. “I’d hate to have her mad at me now that we’re getting along so well.”
“I won’t mention it to her,” he said absently, and he was thinking that there was no way he could discuss it with Bernie without putting her on the defensive, making her ashamed of her feelings. He couldn’t blame her. His lifestyle would be hard for any woman unless she came from a similar background. He’d been living in a dream. It was a sweet dream. But it wasn’t real.
“I’d better get Billie’s lunch to her. Nice seeing you.” She walked away with a smile. It wouldn’t do to lay it on with a trowel.
Paul came out of the probate judge’s office with a worried look. He fell in beside Mikey and they walked outside. “Harvey,” he said, referring to his contact inside, “told me that Billie and Jessie at Sari’s office came down here at the same time. It’s a little too cozy for coincidence.”
“You think they’re Cotillo’s?” Mikey asked.
“They could be. We’re going to do a thorough background search on all of them. What about that car that barely missed Bernie? Did she tell you anything about it?”
He shook his head and stuck his hands in his slacks pockets. “Only that it was a dark sedan. It happened too fast.” He glanced at Paul. “Do you know about Bernie’s grandfather and what he did?”
Paul nodded. “Tragic thing to happen to a child. There was a serious attempt on her father’s life not long after it happened, by a member of a victim’s family. He’s doing time.”
“She said it might have been somebody like that, trying to scare her.” Mikey frowned. “It’s not Cotillo’s style, you know? He has people hit if he has a problem with them, like he tried to hit Tony and me. He doesn’t make threats.”
“Neither do you,” Paul mused.
“Hey, I am what I am.” He strolled along beside Paul. “I’ve been having second thoughts about this engagement,” he confessed.
“What?” Paul stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “But you’re crazy about Bernie. She’s crazy about you!”
Mikey took a breath and smiled cynically. “She likes small towns and band concerts, Paulie. She’s never been in trouble with the law in her life. How’s she going to like jetsetting, mixing with celebrities and crooks, wearing designer clothes, traveling around the world with me when I’ve got people to meet? How’s she going to feel if I ever get arrested for something?”
Paul took a deep breath of his own. “I don’t know. I don’t live in that world. I never did.”
“Well, I do. I have to.” He grimaced. “And there’s her health to consider. I remember our grandmother. She got twisted like a tree in a hurricane. She was in bed most of the time at the end. She got upset and she had flares, remember that? Bernie would be stressed-out all the time. It would affect her health.”
“You’ve done a lot of thinking,” Paul said. He wasn’t saying anything, but his tone was full of curiosity and suspicion.
“Yeah. She’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever known. I’d like her to stay that way. Involved with me for life? It would...kill something in her.”
Paul didn’t speak. He knew that Mikey’s lifestyle involved stress. But he’d never seen Mikey involved with any woman to the extent he was involved with Bernie. He thought that love would resolve all those issues. Mikey clearly didn’t.
“What are you going to do?” Paul asked.
“Ease off. Just a little at a time, so it doesn’t look like I’m shooting her out of my life.” He smiled sadly. “I want her to be happy. I can’t give her the sort of life she deserves.”
“You, being unselfish. Call the journalists,” Paul drawled.
Mikey chuckled. “Out of character, isn’t it?” he agreed.
Paul threw an arm around him. “Not anymore, it isn’t, cuz,” he said quietly. “But I’m sorry for both of you.”
“Me, too,” Mikey said. His eyes were solemn. “Me, too.”
* * *
Mikey and Bernie were subdued at supper at Mrs. Brown’s. Neither spoke much although they went through the motions of participating in the conversation.
But afterward, when Bernie started toward her room, Mikey stopped her.
“Listen,” he began quietly, “I’ve been thinking—”
“Me, too,” she interrupted.
She looked as uncomfortable as he did.
He shoved his hands into his pockets