Force of Habit: A Falcone & Driscoll Investigation (27 page)

“You’ll have to drink that tea, you know.” Frank grinned. “Be grateful she didn’t mention tofu.”

“I’ll offer it up.”

He laughed. “Spoken like a true Catholic.”

She walked upstairs, Frank hovering at her elbow.

“Frank, I’m not going to break. I’m just stiff and a little sore...” Giulia’s voice faded as they reached the office.

The lettering on the frosted glass was different.
Driscoll Investigations
still covered the center. But now the bottom left read
Frank Driscoll
, and the bottom right,
Giulia Falcone
.

“It’s a little premature, because you won’t get your license for three years. But I called the sign painter at six a.m. and paid him an extra fifty bucks to finish by eight.” Frank shifted from one foot to the other. “You’re staying, right?”

Giulia reached out to touch her name.

Frank caught her arm. “I’m not sure it’s dry yet.” He waited. “Well?”

Giulia bit her lip. How could she convey her unexpected, amazing sense of belonging?

Silly—it’s a job, not your life. Keep some perspective.

Frank cleared his throat. “Giulia?”

He wasn’t perfect. So what? Neither was she. All the ugly things they’d said to each other still festered, but they could get past them. Besides, she wouldn’t discourage a little groveling from this restored Frank.

Giulia raised one eyebrow. “I’m certainly not going to make you throw away good money. Think what it would cost to redo the lettering again.”

Frank started to pick her up, but her startled “My glue—” stopped him. He nodded and said, “So tell me how to erase everything we said to each other last week.”

She pictured a date—a real date with the Frank she thought had changed for good.
I could beg Mingmei to help me find a silk blouse to go with his Philo Vance suit
.

“Giulia?” Frank’s confident voice wavered.

“Dinner would be a start.”

“Great. Takeout in your hotel room it is.”

She spluttered, and he laughed.

“I’m just yanking your chain, partner.” Frank sketched a bow. “May I have the pleasure of your company for dinner this evening at... at...”

She grinned. “The Japanese place on Maple? I hear their wasabi is like a miniature flamethrower to the sinuses.”

His eyes widened. “You can eat that? All right, you’re on. I want to see you beg for water.”

“If I do, Sidney can feed me tofu for a week.”

The office door opened and papers rustled. “Of course you should be eating tofu, Ms. Falcone. You’ll need to replenish your antioxidants, too. I printed out these recipes—”

Giulia tried to scowl. “Sidney, if you don’t start calling me Giulia, I’ll replace your whole-wheat bagel and green tea with Twinkies and beer.”

Sidney’s mouth hung open for five full seconds. “Ms. Fal—Giulia, you don’t mean that!”

Then she ruined it by laughing. That pulled at her ribs. “Ow. Don’t make me laugh.”

“I didn’t—oh. Joke.” Sidney scowled at the printouts. “Giulia, you can’t cook with your hands all stitched up. Oh, this is great!”

Frank laughed.

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that.” Sidney tossed the papers on her desk and picked up her purse. “I’ll run to the co-op and pick up some silken tofu. Mingmei will let me use the blender to make you a chamomile smoothie.” She bounced down the stairs.

“You’ll love it!”

The End

Acknowledgments

Writing may be a solitary occupation, but this book had help from many people. At the top of the list, my agent, Kent D. Wolf, whose skill and experience made years of hard work pay off in the best possible way. Hard on his heels is my wonderful editor, Terri Bischoff, whose e-mails always make me smile. And Brett Fechheimer, my production editor, whose brain works eerily in the same ways as mine. Thank you for adding Giulia and Frank to Midnight Ink’s team of sleuths.

I’m also grateful to the people who made me much smarter than before: Susan Owens for her medical knowledge, Bryan Koczur for his MMORPG expertise, and Mary Kinahan and Danielle Greene for fixing my Irish. Marguerite Butler, Marge Fotheringham, and Jay Young, my beta readers. My husband, Phil, for support, encouragement, and helping me block the fight scenes. (Marry an actor! It has all kinds of benefits.)

And of course, Purgatory. *vamp dust* for all of you and a huge /bootay shake. You’ve been there through years of ups, downs, vents, and celebrations. You—and Absolute Write—helped
Force of Habit
find its place on bookshelves. I love you all. Especially those of you who agreed to “become” nuns in the next book. Mwahahaha!

© D. Steven Hodge

About the Author

Alice Loweecey is a former nun who went from the convent to playing prostitutes on stage to accepting her husband’s marriage proposal on the second date. A contributor to BuddyHollywood.com, she is a member of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime. She lives with her family in Western New York.
Force of Habit
is her first novel.

Please visit Alice’s website, at www.aliceloweecey.com.