By Any Other Name

  "Little Italy?"

  She scoffed. "Please, at least half of that neighborhood knows who we are."

  Her, anyway. Sure, they knew the Barsantis, but she wasn't yet sure how many people would be able to identify him. She couldn't risk it, though. All it would take was one person recognizing them together for all hell to break loose.

  He sat in silence for a moment. "Somewhere else, then."

  "There is nowhere else." Her eyes narrowed as she regarded him, still trying to figure out if this was some kind of ruse. "How do I know this isn't a trick? That you won't walk me straight into an ambush?"

  "You don't know. You just have to trust me."

  "I need some kind of guarantee," she said. "Some kind of security."

  "Then you pick the place. We'll go wherever you want."

  "I don't know anywhere."

  He sighed exasperatedly, running his hands through his hair. "We're getting nowhere here."

  He was wrong. They were most definitely getting somewhere. Little by little, he was breaking down her walls despite the voice in the back of her mind, screaming, crying, and warning her away. She wasn't an idiot, and despite what she had told her brother, she knew she was a good judge of character. It was something her father had instilled in her, teaching her how to spot a schemer a mile away, teaching her how to con a conman in return. And this guy sitting across from her was either as genuine as they came, or he deserved a fucking Academy Award.

  Wolf in sheep's clothing, maybe not, but he was undoubtedly Satan, tempting her to the dark side. Forgive me, Father, for I want nothing more than to sin and sin and sin again… "Can I ask you something?"

  Matty's brow furrowed. "Sure."

  "How do you fix your hair so your horns don't show?"

  He let out a loud laugh as he shoved his chair back. "Funny."

  "It was, wasn't it?"

  "Yeah, it was a good one," he said, standing up. "I'm surprised it came from your mind, to be honest."

  Genna smiled, amazed how easy the teasing came for them. Must be in our DNA.

  "I can't linger here too long," he said, gazing down at her. "My car's parked outside, and well, someone's bound to take notice eventually."

  She nodded. He was flirting with disaster coming here, even with her family preoccupied. Her father may not personally catch him, but someone else could. He had eyes and ears all over the city. "You were stupid to come here in the first place."

  "You pronounced fearless wrong," he said, reaching over and lightly grasping her chin, tilting her face slightly more toward him as he gazed at her. "Thanks for the chili, Genna. Best soup kitchen meal I've ever had."

  "You eat at soup kitchens often?" she asked as he started walking away.

  His footsteps faltered briefly as he glanced back at her, his lips turning into that condescending—yet damn sexy—smirk. "No, but I might start."

  Walking into the East Harlem soup kitchen was like stepping into the busy underground subway station. A continuous flow of people shuffled through, methodic yet still chaotic, and despite the fact that there seemed to be someone always cleaning, the place constantly remained filthy. An unpleasant odor hung in the air from an unknown source that Matty suspected might've been whatever concoctions they were brewing in the kitchen, strong enough to make him cringe when he inhaled.

  He strolled in toward the end of dinner service again, immediately seeing Genna behind the partition. Even wearing a filthy apron, dressed down in jeans and a t-shirt, she made him pause to take her in. A smile lit up her face, the kind of smile that could replace sunshine without you even noticing a drop in temperature. The girl was radiant. She laughed, and heads involuntarily turned toward her like a flower turning toward the light.

  Ice princess? Hardly. She was the opposite of cold.

  Christ, just the sight of her made Matty want to speak in fucking verse like he was Shakespeare incarnate.

  Genna glanced up as he approached, her expression dimming a bit, worry evident in her eyes as they darted all around, doing everything not to look at him. He got it… he did. She didn't trust him. He couldn't say he blamed her.

  After a moment, she skeptically met his gaze, her cheeks flushing. "What do you want now?"

  There was an edge of antagonism to her voice that made it hard not to laugh. Matty's thinly veiled amusement made her eyes narrow further as she glared at him, awaiting an answer.

  "Just stopping by," he said. "But don't worry, I'm not going to steal any of your food this time. I brought my own."

  He held his bag of take-out up for her to see, to make his point, since she had given him grief for taking food from people who needed it. He expected maybe an eye roll at most, but the flare of anger caught him off guard. "You brought your own food? Are you stupid? You can't do that!"

  "Why?"

  "Why? It's rude! How dare you bring that in here and tease these people. What is it, anyway?" Before he could respond, she reached over the divider and snatched the bag straight out of his hand, opening it up to glance inside. She shifted the food around, surveying the contents. "French fries and what, a cheesesteak? Got onions and peppers on it?"

  "Of course."

  She snatched a fry, popping it in her mouth as she hastily closed the bag up tightly, her eyes darting beside him. "Hey, you. Yeah, you… guy with the green shirt. You like cheesesteaks?"

  Matty turned, looking at the guy beside him as the man's eyes widened. "Uh, yeah, sure."

  Genna thrust the bag over the divider, straight to him. "Here you go. Eat it. Enjoy yourself. My treat."

  The man grabbed the food, quickly saying his thanks, and darted away before anyone could take it from him. Matty turned back around, gaping at Genna as she grabbed a paper cup and dished out some kind of brown gunky stew into it.

  "Enjoy your dinner, Mr. Barsanti," she said, slamming it down on the tray before shoving it down the line. Matty stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, but she said nothing more, brusquely dismissing him with a wave of the hand before continuing to dish out more stew into cups.

  Not wanting to hold up the line or make a bigger scene, Matty walked away and grabbed a tray from the end. He headed across the room, straight to the same seat from last time. He stared down at the food, picking up the plastic spoon and shifting the stew around, the potatoes and carrots turning to mush at a simple touch. Beef stew, he assumed, although he barely found any beef at all.

  Hesitantly, he took a small bite, cringing as he swallowed it down. It tasted like nothing but water and salt. He couldn't fathom eating this crap every day.

  It took longer this time, but Genna eventually wandered over at a few minutes after seven, yanking the chair out across from him and plopping down. Crossing her arms over her chest, she stared at him pointedly. Unlike yesterday when she'd been on the defense, scrambling to comprehend his presence, this girl appeared entirely in control, an air of authority surrounding her. Confidence oozed from her pores, bordering on downright cocky.

  Matty knew it was an act, but damn if it didn't turn him on.

  "You owe me a dinner now," he said, matter-of-fact.

  "I gave you a dinner," she said, motioning toward the food in front of him. "Even cooked it myself."

  "Yeah, well, do me a favor?" he asked, taking another bite of the beef stew. "Never cook for me again, because this? This isn't your strong suit."

  She dramatically gasped, grabbing her chest with feigned hurt. "You mean I don’t live up to your expectations? How ever will I go on?"

  Without responding, he made a point to choke down every damn bite of the god-awful stew before washing it down with the milk, desperate to get the salty taste from his mouth. Sighing, he tossed the carton down on the tray and gazed at her. "So how about a drink, Genna?"

  Her self-assured expression wavered a bit, skepticism shining through. "Are we going to do this every day?"

  "Do what?"

  "Do this," she said, waving between the two of them. "This thing where you pretend like
there could actually ever be something between you and me."

  "There could be," he said. "There was."

  "That's the past."

  "And I told you I don't live in the past."

  "Then why are you here?"

  Christ, she was infuriatingly stubborn. Leaning forward, he shoved his tray aside. No words came from his mouth as he stared in her eyes, drinking in the pale blue hue, so unnaturally light they appeared almost gray, void of color. Like the iciest stone.

  "Don't look her in the eyes," he said quietly. "She's dangerous."

  She blanched. "What?"

  "That's what they say about you. I'm sure your family warned you about me, told you to stay away, but you're not the only one, Genna. I've heard it all, too. They have a lot of names for you… the Ice Princess… Medusa… they say you're the worst kind of monster, the kind that can bring a man to his knees, that can shatter his world with a simple stare."

  She blinked rapidly, looking away for a moment, before curiosity got the best of her. She turned right back to him. "I've heard Ice Princess before, but they seriously call me Medusa?"

  He cracked a smile at the incredulous tone to her voice. "They do."

  She remained quiet for a moment, contemplatively chewing on her bottom lip, her gaze leaving his once more. This time it didn't return. "If they warned you about me, why don't you just… stay away? It would be so much easier."

  "I don't do things just because they're easy. Despite what you might think, I don't have sinister intentions. I risk coming here, because one of us has to take that risk. One of us has to be willing to take the chance. But if you want me to stay away, if you want nothing to do with me, fine. Just tell me. I'll stay away. You'll never see me again." Pushing his chair back, he stood up and leaned across the table. She tensed, her eyes closing as he brought his face close to hers, his cheek brushing against hers as he whispered in her ear. "It's too late for me, though. I already looked the soul-stealer in the eyes."

  Grabbing the tray, he started to walk away when the sound of her voice stalled his footsteps.

  "Matty?"

  Turning, he raised his eyebrows questioningly.

  She stared at him for a moment, frowning, as she let her hair loose from beneath her ball cap and ran her fingers through the wavy strands. "It's not, uh… it's not because my hair looks stringy like snakes, right? Because I promise it's usually better than this."

  He burst into laughter, shaking his head. This damn girl… "You're beautiful, Genna. The prettiest little car thief I've ever seen."

  Matty stepped out of the community center, keeping his head down and walking swiftly up the block and around the corner, to where he'd parked the Lotus in a dark alley. Pulling out his keys, he pressed the button to unlock the car doors and hit the remote start, the engine roaring to life down the block. His phone buzzed in his pocket—his personal line, not the Blackberry, which was locked in the car's glove box. It had been vibrating constantly for the past few minutes, but he hadn't wanted anything to interrupt his conversation with Genna. Opening his car door, he slipped inside, out of sight, as he pulled his phone out.

  Enzo.

  "Yeah?" he said, answering it as he shifted the car into gear, wanting to get out of East Harlem. Lingering could easily get him killed. He had come tonight without confirmation that the Galantes were busy. For all he knew, they could be watching him.

  "Jesus, Matty," Enzo said, voice frantic. "Where the hell are you?"

  "Near Central Park." Close enough, anyway. "Why? What's up?"

  "It's Ma," he said. "She's been taken to the hospital."

  Coldness washed through him as he gripped the gearshift tightly. "Which one?"

  "NewYork-Presbyterian."

  She'd had a seizure, he said. They found her unresponsive. Matty drove straight up north to Presbyterian, meeting his family in the waiting room twenty minutes later. They didn't question where he'd been or why it took him so long to answer his phone, and for that he was grateful.

  He had no idea what he'd say if they did.

  They ran some tests and decided to keep her for observation. Life didn't stop for Enzo and his father, who were in and out constantly, but Matty didn't leave her side for two days. He could do his part anywhere. When they kicked him out of her room, he took up residence in the hospital lobby, eating food from the cafeteria that rivaled the crap Genna made and fielding phone calls for bets out of The Place.

  It was Thursday night, well past visiting hours, when he lounged in the small uncomfortable chair, the muted television giving him enough light to sort through the figures in his notebook. His mother was sleeping soundly, her soft snores filling the quiet air, the sound nearly lulling Matty to sleep along with her.

  He felt like he hadn't slept in forever.

  The door opened and he glanced across the room, expecting it to be a nurse coming to eject him, but was surprised to meet his father's gaze. He hadn't been around since earlier that morning.

  Roberto quietly approached, smoothing Matty's mother's hair and gazing down at her as he spoke softly, although his words were clearly meant for Matty. "I'm surprised you're still here."

  "I'm not leaving her if I can help it."

  "I didn't mean at the hospital."

  "I knew what you meant."

  He was surprised Matty was still in New York.

  Slowly, his gaze shifted to Matty, expression stern. "I take it you haven't changed your mind about my offer?"

  Matty shook my head. "That other stuff's not for me."

  He'd agreed to take on the books, but that was as far as he went in the family business. If he had to be involved, if he had to lend a hand, he'd stick with staying behind the scenes. He wanted nothing to do with the violence and hatred, nothing to do with the rivalry.

  "You're wrong, Matteo. It's all for you. I built this entire empire for you, and it saddens me that you want very little to do with it."

  "Saddens?" he asked. "Or maddens?"

  "Both," his father admitted. "You're my oldest, and it upsets me to see you snub the family legacy."

  Hell of a legacy, Matty thought, but he said nothing. It would only cause a fight—a fight they needn't have there, of all places. Roberto seemed to realize that also, his gaze turning from Matty back to the hospital bed.

  "Go on home, Matteo. She's being released in the morning. There's nothing more you can do here."

  He hadn't wanted to leave, but he knew his father wouldn't take a refusal lightly. Roberto was used to people following his every word, which was what caused the rift between them in the first place. Matty wasn't very good about being submissive.

  Glancing at his watch, he saw it was nearing seven o'clock. "Yeah, you're right."

  He started to leave, striding past his father, when the man reached out and grabbed his arm, stalling him. "I know you don't want to get involved, but certain things are unavoidable. You're a Barsanti, and unless you find a way to stop being one, there will forever be a target on your back after what's happened. So be careful, you know. Stay where we can protect you."

  The message was loud and clear: stay out of Galante territory. Matty nodded, acknowledging those words, but he didn't heed them.

  As soon as he was in his car, he drove straight to East Harlem.

  It was a few minutes past seven when he made it to that side of town. He approached the community center and was about to swing the car into a parking spot along the curb when he caught sight of Dante lurking out front.

  Cursing, he sped right past, hoping like hell the Galante boy hadn't noticed him.

  Genna had a crappy day at home, followed by a crappy night at the community center, topped off with the crappiest of crappy: her babysitter-slash-bodyguard was waiting for her outside when her shift was over.

  That never boded well.

  Dante stood along the curb, hands shoved in his pockets, his brow furrowed as he stared down the street. Slowly, Genna approached, grabbing his arm and proceeding to startle the fuck
out of him. He jumped, immediately glaring at her. "Dammit, Genna, you scared me!"

  "Sorry," she said, glancing past him. "What are you looking at?"

  "Nothing, I just thought I saw..." He paused as he eyed her peculiarly. "You haven't seen any Barsantis lurking around here, have you?"

  Her eyes widened. Oh, shit. "Of course not."

  "I must've been seeing things," he said. "It almost looked like that car from Little Italy, but even they're not that stupid, right?"

  "Right." Too bad they were. Stupid, stupid boy. He hadn't shown up at all in days. She had shrugged it off, scoffing, telling herself it was for the best, that she shouldn't be surprised since he was one of them… they were flakey, and she shouldn't want him anywhere near her. But yet… she'd missed him. She'd found herself waiting for him, watching the door, disappointed when her shift was over and he was nowhere to be found. She'd even worried. God, what the hell's wrong with me, stressing about one of them? "Had to have been someone else. It wouldn't be them. Not here."

  "Yeah," he agreed. "You'll tell me if you see any of them, right?"

  "Of course," she said, frowning. She hated lying to Dante. He was her person, but he wouldn't understand this. How could he? She scarcely did. "We should go before we're late for dinner."

  "Ah, yeah, that's why I'm here," he said. "Dad needed to leave town for a few days, so it's just you and me."

  "Oh?"

  "Yeah, I have plans this weekend, but I thought you and I could do something tonight."

  "Aw, you get a bit of freedom and there's nobody else you'd rather spend it with?"

  "Of course there is," he said, "but you'll do, anyway."

  She rolled her eyes, nudging him as she strode to the passenger side of his car while he climbed behind the wheel.

  "So where do you want to go?"

  "Doesn't matter to me," she said.

  He raised his eyebrows. "Genna, with no opinion? I'm starting to like the new you."

  She laughed as he started up the car and swung out into traffic, speeding down the busy street. "I'm still the same me."

  "No, you're not," he said. "Come on, the Genna I grew up with would've flounced community service by now and forced Dad's hand to pay off whoever he needed to pay off to get her out of the mess. You've been way too accepting of this all."