Conviction of the Heart Read Free Page B

moment later, a group of curious faces popped up at the pass-through window from the kitchen.
    Great. An audience. Just what I need. Intent on his original purpose, he stood up to greet Suzanne. “Counselor. I thought perhaps you’d gotten lost. Or that your…admirer…had returned.”
    Her cheeks turned the faintest shade of pink. “No, Lieutenant, your directions were fine. I took the long way around so I could wind down a little.”
    As she sat down, he held her chair and carefully pushed it in. “I might have been here before. About a thousand times.”
    “A thousand? Really?”
    “Maybe.” He chuckled, feeling like he’d turned a police-issue flashlight on himself. “My dad was a cop, and my grandfather was a cop, and his father was right off the boat from Italy. So I practically grew up in this neighborhood.”
    She smiled, and the smile gave her whole face a warm glow, as if someone had lit a candle inside her.
    Concetta brought two menus and poured icy water into short, heavy glasses. “Vito made lasagna today,” she said.
    Nick glanced across the table at Suzanne. “You don’t want to pass up Vito’s lasagna.”
    Her gaze flicked across the menu, then she handed it back to Concetta. “Of course not.”
    “Two lasagna.” Concetta scribbled on her pad. “He’s got fresh bread in the oven. I’ll bring some out. Wine?”
    “Merlot?” he asked, and Suzanne nodded.
    “Got just the thing.” Concetta grinned and waddled back to the kitchen. Nick glanced in that direction and caught a glimpse of all the would-be mother hens clucking up a storm in the back. They’d fussed over him since he was a boy eating meals with his grandfather; Nick was sure he remained their topic of conversation. He and Suzanne.
    Fortunately, Suzanne seemed oblivious to the buzz. “So, a legacy cop,” she said. “Your family must be proud you’re a lieutenant.”
    Nick nodded. “Best day of my dad’s life, I think. Even better than the day I graduated from Pitt.”
    “You went to Pitt? My alma mater, too.”
    “Not in the same class, I’m sure.” Nick was forty-five; he’d always thought of Suzanne as at least ten years younger.
    The fingers of her left hand ran lightly over the fork, cushioned in the folded white napkin on the table. “Well, I went for law school. We wouldn’t have seen each other anyway.”
    “Probably not. It was twenty years ago, before I joined the force.”
    She looked up, surprised. “I was just finishing up. But I was sure you were older than I am.” She hesitated, bit her lip. “I just turned forty.”
    “Not so much. I’m forty-five.” There, he said it. He hated thinking about the passing of the years. So many of them, so many alone. An awkward silence between them preceded the arrival of the wine, as well as hot bread with the strong aroma of garlic and cheese. He uncorked the bottle with a well-practiced hand, then poured them each half a glass.
    He suppressed the urge to ask about her love life. “Where’d you go for undergrad?” he asked instead.
    “Penn State.” She took a sip of the wine, holding the cool edge of the glass against her lip for a moment.
    “Business major?” he guessed.
    “Oh, no! Sociology. Headed for a career involving ‘Would you like fries with that?’” She laughed. “Graduate school was pretty much a given.”
    “So you’ve been bent on saving the world all along.”
    She shrugged. “Some of it, at least.”
    He could understand the sentiment. “I believe that’s what I do, too. God knows there isn’t much other reason to be on the street some days. I want to know I’m making a difference for some man, woman or child every time I step out on the street.”
    He waited for her to mock him, as other women had over the years. Many women wanted to date a police officer. Some found it a ticket to an “E” ride, great benefits, good pay, the opportunity for them to hang out with the girls at the outlet malls all day and get their nails