a strangled voice, "Actually, I gave him my real name… and your real name, too."
He expected her to shriek in dismay but she laughed instead. "You should be sneakier if you're going to go undercover," she pointed out. "You mean to tell me that after this is over, we're going to have to dodge this producer begging us for money?"
"But you do that already with dozens and dozens of people. I'm sure you've had more experience than me," he pointed out weakly.
"So I have. Well, I suppose the old Cheswick name is essential for hooking our fish," she admitted without a hint of rancor.
"I'm afraid it is," T.S. confessed. "And I hope you'll forgive me one day."
"Well," said Lilah, "that depends."
"Depends on what?"
"Depends on what one day brings."
T.S. was too tongue-tied to manage a reply. She rang off quickly, after promising to pick him up in the limo just before eight.
T.S. sat by the phone enjoying the wave of relief that washed through him. He had actually made a mistake and nothing horrible had happened to him. She had not slammed down the phone. The ceiling had not fallen. The sky had not parted nor had lightning split him in two. True, he had been mildly embarrassed. But that had gone away in an instant. Perhaps he was too hard on himself, he thought vaguely. Perhaps there was such a thing as being too correct. And though he hated to admit it, maybe Auntie Lil was right. He could afford to loosen up a little.
Billy Finnegan need not have worried about his daughter coming in contact with Little Pete. By the time Little Pete showed up at the Delicious Deli, Auntie Lil had run through two cups of coffee, another cappuccino and a large slice of cheesecake. And Megan had long since been collected by her mother, fed a large meal, scrubbed in a clean bathtub, and dressed in fresh pajamas.
The little boy who stood outside the windows of the deli, peering in through the oncoming twilight, would have found such caring treatment by a mother completely foreign.
He was small, even for his young age, and his skinny frame could not have been even five feet tall. His face was twisted in a hardened imitation of a cynical adult, but a small tremor of fear made his chin wobble a little as he stood beside the door, staring in at Auntie Lil. She knew that, despite his toughness, he was afraid to come inside and risk the rancor of the owner who had no doubt thrown him out many times before. She stared back at him, trying to decide what would be the best thing to do to win his trust. Wait until he gathered his courage and came inside? Or wave him in enthusiastically, as if he really were just a normal little boy coming to meet his grandmother.
But Little Pete was not a normal little boy. That much was clear even in shadow. He stood, pelvis thrust forward, hands curled in fists and arms bent slightly in a menacing pose that belied his familiarity with the streets.
Maybe Auntie Lil had been wrong when she told T.S. not to worry, that she had seen it all. Because she wasn't sure she had seen this exactly before—this defiant posturing and aggressive adult manner in such a small body. He did not seem to use his small size to his advantage at all. And he could have. It would have provoked pity even in the street. No, this child did not want pity in any form, that much was immediately apparent.
"Think he's coming in?" Billy asked idly. He was leaning against the counter picking his teeth and staring out into the twilight. The deli was quiet and would remain so for much of the night.
"I think he might be afraid of you," Auntie Lil told him, wondering if Little Pete had reasons of his own that she did not know about.
"I can take care of that," Billy decided. He tossed his toothpick into the trash can and flipped up part of the countertop, advancing on the door with a wide smile on his face.
Little Pete coiled, waiting for the verbal lashing that was sure to come. When, instead, Billy motioned him inside, the young boy refused to act surprised. Suspicion had long since replaced surprise in his repertoire of emotions. Instead, he strutted arrogantly past the deli owner as if he owned the place. But he watched Billy out of the