Chapter 11: The Hotel Man

Donovan's POV

I had parked a block down from the yellow house, with the engine off and the radio off, and I had told myself I was only there in case.

A man who sits outside a woman's family lunch for two hours is not in case of anything.

At ten past three the front door opened.

The first one out was Sergio Caruso's mother in her red coat, walking fast.

She looked down the street, saw my car, and tapped on my window with one knuckle.

"You're the hotel man," she said.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Don't let her take the ferry alone."

She walked on before I could ask which her she meant.

Justine came out ten minutes later.

She stopped on the porch steps and stood there with her hands in her coat pockets.

She did not look angry.

She looked tired, and very still.

I got out of the car.

She saw me, and some of the stiffness went out of her shoulders.

"You came."

"You said you wouldn't need a ride."

"I said a lot of things."

Behind her the screen door banged, and Dario came down the steps two at a time.

"Justine. Wait. Please."

She didn't turn around.

I stayed where I was, with one hand on the car door.

It was none of my business, and I have spent eleven years learning when that is true.

"I'll fix it," Dario said. "I'll tell everyone the truth. I'll redo the whole seating chart. We can move the date."

"You're still talking about the seating chart."

"It's the thing you were upset about."

"I was upset about a chair," Justine said, and now she turned. "At the time. Do you want to know what I'm upset about now?"

He stood on the walk, with his hands half raised.

Keep reading free with an account. Start No Matter, You Don't Have to Wait for Me from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.