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  Tony grinned. “And since you’re the strangest attractor in the room, I followed the trajectory of my stress right to you.”

  “That’s not what you followed to me.” Liza turned so that her back was against the bar, her shoulder blocking him. “Give me something better than that, or I’ll find somebody else to amuse myself with.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw the other guy, the vacant-looking blond, lean down to Bonnie. “Is she always like this?” he said to Bonnie, and Liza turned to size him up. Big. Husky. Boring.

  “Well, your friend isn’t exactly Prince Charming,” Bonnie said, giving him her best fluttery smile.

  He beamed back down at her. “Neither am I. Is that okay?”

  Oh, come on, Liza thought, and caught Tony-the-bullethead’s eye.

  “He means it,” Tony said. “Roger has no line.”

  “After the chaos theory debacle, that’s a plus,” Liza said.

  “Poor baby,” Bonnie was saying as she put her hand on Roger’s sleeve. “Of course, that’s okay. I’m Bonnie.”

  Roger looked down at her with naked adoration. “I’m Roger, and you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  Bonnie’s smile widened, and she moved closer to him.

  “Which doesn’t mean he’s bad with women,” Tony said, sounding bemused.

  “I begin to see his appeal.” Liza turned back to Tony. “What’s yours?”

  “I’m great in bed,” Tony said.

  “Right,” Liza said. “You’re hopeless, but you can buy me a drink and tell me all about yourself. And your friends.”

  “Anything you want,” Tony said, and waved to the curly-headed bartender. When she came down the bar, he said, “Hey, Shanna, you playing on my side of the street yet?”

  The bartender shook her head. “No, but when I do, you’ll be the last to know.”

  “Just so I’m somewhere on the list,” Tony said. “Shanna, this is Liza. We need refills all around here.”

  “You know him?” Liza said to Shanna.

  “He hangs out with my next-door neighbor,” Shanna said. “I get him by default because of Cal.”

  “Cal?” Liza said, and thought, Damn, I could have just asked the bartender about him without picking up this yahoo. Well, later for her.

  “You don’t want to know about Cal,” Tony was saying. “He’s no good. Women should stay far away from him.”

  Shanna rolled her eyes and moved away.

  “That’s interesting,” Liza said, smiling at him. “Tell me all about Cal and why he’s no good.”

  “I lied. He’s great,” Tony said. “We met in summer school—”

  “You went to high school together?” Liza said, taken aback.

  “We went to third grade together,” Tony said. “Although why you think this is interesting—”

  “I want to know everything about you, sugar,” Liza said. “I find you fascinating.”

  Tony nodded, accepting this as fact. “I was born—”

  “You and your friends,” Liza said. “So you and Roger and Cal—”

  Tony began to talk, while behind her, she heard Bonnie say, “You know my mama would like you,” and Roger answer, “I’d love to meet your mother.”

  Liza jerked her head toward Roger. “Does he say that to every woman?”

  “What?” Tony said, startled out of his story about being a football star in the third grade.

  “Never mind,” Liza said. “Let’s fast forward to puberty. You and Roger and Cal . . .”

  Cal watched the shock on Min’s face as she caught the full force of Emilio’s for the first time, seeing his favorite restaurant in all its funky glory, the wrought-iron chandeliers with the amber flame bulbs, the old black and white photos on the walls, the red and white checked tablecloths on the square tables, the candles in the beat-up Chianti bottles, the hand-lettered menus and mismatched silver. He waited for her lip to curl and then realized it couldn’t because her mouth had fallen open. Well, she deserved it for being such a pain in the—

  “This is great,” she said, and started to laugh. “My God, how did somebody like you ever find this place?”

  “What do you mean, somebody like me?” Cal said.

  She walked over to look at the photos of Emilio’s family for the past eighty years. “Where did they get this stuff?” She smiled, her soft lips parted and her dark eyes alight, and then Emilio came up behind him.

  “Ah, Mr. Morrisey,” Emilio said, and Cal turned to meet his old roommate’s glare. “How excellent to see you again.”

  “Emilio,” Cal said. “This is Min Dobbs.” He turned back to Min. “Emilio makes the best bread in town.”

  “I’m sure you make the best everything, Emilio,” Min said, offering him her hand. She looked up at him from under her lashes, and her wide smile quirked wickedly.

  Emilio cheered up, and Cal thought, Hey, why didn’t I get that?

  Emilio clasped her hand. “For you, my bread is poetry. I will bring my bread as a gift to your beauty, a poem to your lovely smile.” He kissed the back of her hand, and Min beamed at him and did not pull her hand away.

  “Emilio, Min is my date,” Cal said. “Enough kissing already.”

  Min shook her head at him, with no beam whatsoever. “I’m not anybody’s date. We don’t even like each other.” She turned back to Emilio, smiling again. “Separate checks, please, Emilio.”

  “Not separate checks, Emilio,” Cal said, exasperated beyond politeness. “But a table would be good.”

  “For you, anything,” Emilio said to Min and kissed her hand again.

  Unbelievable, Cal thought, and kicked Emilio on the ankle when Min turned to look at the restaurant again. The guy was married, for Christ’s sake.

  “Right this way,” Emilio said, wincing. He showed them to the best table by the window, slid Min into a bentwood chair, and then stopped by Cal long enough to say under his breath, “I sent the servers home half an hour ago, you bastard.”

  “You’re welcome,” Cal said loudly, nodding to him.

  Emilio gave up and went back to the kitchen, while Cal watched Min examine the room in detail.

  “It’s like an Italian restaurant in the movies,” she told Cal. “Except not. I love it. I love Emilio, too.”

  “I noticed,” he said. “You’re the first woman I ever brought here who was on a kissing basis with him before we sat down.”

  “Well, he’s going to feed me.” She picked up her napkin. “That’s always a good sign in a man.” She spread the napkin in her lap, and then her smile faded and she looked tense again. “Except . . .”

  Cal braced himself for her next shot.

  She leaned forward. “I can’t eat the bread or pasta, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings. Can you order something else?”

  “Sure,” Cal said, surprised. “Salad. Chicken marsala, there’s no pasta with that.”

  “Thank you.” Min smiled at him. “I wouldn’t want to ruin his evening.”

  “I think you just made his evening,” Cal said. Her lips were full and soft, and when she smiled her gratitude at him, her face changed from grim prison warden to warm baby doll, but the wicked glint she’d had in her eyes when she’d flirted with Emilio was gone, which was a real shame.

  Emilio brought the bread, and Min leaned forward to see it. “Oh, that smells good. I missed lunch so this is wonderful.”

  “It is good,” Cal said. “Emilio, we’ll have the house salad to start and then the chicken marsala.”

  “Excellent choice, Mr. Morrisey,” Emilio said, and Cal knew it was because everything was simple to make. “And a nice red wine to accompany?”

  “Excellent,” Cal said, knowing they were going to get whatever Emilio had left over and open in the kitchen.

  “Ice water for me,” Min said with a sigh, still looking at the bread.

  When Emilio was gone, Cal said, “The bread’s excellent. He makes it here.”

  “Carbs,” M