on the door. "Tony, I need to talk to you," she yelled through the door.
He swung open the door, rubbing his eyes, wearing only pajama bottoms.
Crossing her arms, she leaned in the doorway. "How retro of you."
"Do you know what time it is?" he rasped in his sleep-husky voice.
"It's time to end this, according to Mom." She put her hands on her hips. "I noticed that you told on me, by the way."
"I didn't tell on you. Our parents asked how you were, and I said bitchy." He frowned at her. "Finish harassing me so I can go back to bed."
"You're a jerk."
He rolled his eyes. "So you've told me."
"I'm sick of you being my manager. I don't want a manager if that's how you're going to be." She hugged herself, willing herself to keep it together. "I want my brother back, the guy who was my best friend, who would have sent me a goofy card for my birthday, not have his secretary send me flowers."
He gazed at her, his brow furrowed.
She pointed at him. "Don't be a guy."
"The last time I looked in my pants, that's what I was."
"I mean listen to what I'm saying. I'm telling you I miss you. Since Nonna died, you've abandoned me." Tears filled her eyes and slipped silently down her face.
"Aw, hell, Dani, don't cry." He reached out and pulled her against him, holding her tight. "Yell at me. Throw things at my head. But I can't stand it when you cry."
"I'm sad." She sniffled. "You've been treating me like I'm a client, but I'm not. I'm special, damn it."
"Yes, you are."
She looked up, glaring at him. "Are you laughing at me?"
"A little." He wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. "I'm sorry, Dani. I didn't mean to make you sad."
"Jerk." But she already felt better—lighter.
"I only want what's best for you, though, and you're making it difficult for me. I've been thinking about your soup kitchen."
Retracting, she looked at him warily. "What?"
"I'll help support your project, but on one condition. That you have someone manage the charity and you continue baking at least part-time." He crossed his arms and gazed at her steadily. "Before you get all bent out of shape, hear me out. You love baking. It's the core of you. You can't give it up, I just don't believe that'd make you happy. Think of what Nonna would say if you told her you were going to stop."
Nonna's voice popped in her head. You must be hungry to speak such nonsense, Dani. Sit. We'll eat penne a la arrabiata and then make tiramisu, okay, bella?
Tony tugged on one of her curls. "She wouldn't let you quit either. But you can have both."
She shook her head, deflating. "It doesn't matter. The building I wanted got taken out from under me."
"We'll find another building."
"There's nothing in the city that's affordable."
"Are you questioning my ability to make this happen?"
A smile flirted with her lips. "God forbid."
"Smart ass." He pushed her toward the door. "Get out of here. I need my beauty sleep."
"Yes, you do." She grinned as a pillow hit her in the back on her way out. She returned to her room and snuggled in her bed, feeling a little better. Maybe she'd make bocconotti for Tony in the morning, since it was his favorite, and he was hers.
Chapter Twenty-seven
With her head resting directly on top of the bar at Grounds for Thought, Marley could feel the vibrations from the espresso machine reverberate through her brain. She hoped it'd shake some sort of idea into her, but so far it hadn't done anything but give her a headache.
Valentine patted her shoulder. "You should have taken my matchmaking abilities more seriously. I'm always right about these things."
"You're not helping," she mumbled against her arm.
"What?"
She lifted her head and frowned at her friend. "I have plenty of guilt on my own right now. I don't need more."
Valentine smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."
"I need help figuring out how to win Brian Benedict back."
She shook her head. "That's not going to be easy. You're not his favorite person right now."
"You've talked to him?" Marley grabbed her arm. "Where is he? I've tried calling but his phone is off. I've even tried going to his apartment but he doesn't seem to be there."
"He went away to Mexico for a few days."
A sick feeling churned in her stomach, and she couldn't help asking, "By himself?"
"Of course, by himself." Valentine rolled her eyes. "Although it'd serve you right