Happy Ever After by Nora Roberts

her world as well. “And now that you provide your own wheels?”
    “Doesn’t apply. A deal’s a deal for the duration.”
    “Did you decide what you want to order?” Kaylee set the Coke in front of Malcolm, and managed to place the carafe and wineglass in front of Parker without making eye contact.
    “Not yet.” He started to pull one of the laminated menus out of its holder.
    “What’s your usual?” Parker asked.
    “Pepperoni, black olives, hot peppers.”
    “Sounds good.”
    “Okay. Have Luigi toss us a large, will you, Kaylee?”
    “Sure, Mal. We’ve got those zucchini fritters you like tonight, if you want a starter.”
    “That’d be great.We’ll share an order.”
    Parker waited until the girl walked away. “Does she get her heart broken every time you come in here with a woman?”
    “I don’t generally bring women here. I tend to go for something a little more on the quiet side on a date.”
    “This isn’t a date,” she reminded him. “It’s a deal.”
    “Right.” He reached over for the carafe, poured her a glass.
    She sipped the wine, nodded approval. “It’s good, and hopefully contains no arsenic. So.Your father was military.”
    “Yeah. I was an army brat until I was eight, and he was killed in El Salvador.”
    “It’s hard to lose a parent, and so young.”
    His eyes met hers in a moment of shared loss. “Hard anytime, I’d say.”
    “Yes, anytime.Your mother moved back here, to Greenwich.”
    “You get a pension, a flag, and some medals. They do what they can do, but she had to work. Her brother has a restaurant.You probably know that.”
    “Some. I don’t know your uncle or his wife particularly well.”
    “You’re not missing much, from my point of view. He worked her like a dog, and she was supposed to be grateful for the roof he put over our heads. And she was. She . . .”
    When he trailed off, Parker gave him a moment of silence. “How’s your mother doing on the computer?”
    “Coming along. Thanks, Kaylee,” he added when the girl set the appetizer and two small plates on the table.
    “Luigi says to say hi before you go.”
    “Will do.”
    “The first time I met your mother,” Parker continued,“she was cursing the computer, and not very happy with you for making her use one.”
    “That was before she figured out how to play computer Scrabble. She just bought a laptop so she can play at home.”
    Parker sampled the zucchini. “These are good.” She took another bite. “Excellent, in fact.”
    “It’s a little low-market for your clients,” Malcolm commented when she scanned the restaurant.
    “Not necessarily. It could be a fun, casual location for a smaller, more laid-back rehearsal dinner.Also a nice suggestion for out-of-town wedding guests looking for local flavor and good, casual food. Family owned is always a nice touch.”
    “How do you know it’s family owned?”
    “It has that feel, plus it says so right on the front of the menu.”
    “Talk to Luigi. He owns the place.”
    “I might do that. So, how did you go from doing stunt work in LA to owning a garage in Greenwich?”
    “Is this small talk, or are you interested?”
    “It can be both.”
    “Okay. A gag went south, messed me up. Some bean counter cut corners, and the equipment was faulty, so they paid me off.”
    “How messed up?”
    “Broke a lot of bones, bruised a few organs, sliced some skin.” He shrugged, but Parker didn’t buy it had been that simple, that casual.
    “It sounds serious. How long were you in the hospital?”
    “Put me out for a while,” he continued in that same careless tone. “By the time I got back on my feet, the lawyers had duked it out. I had a nice chunk of change, and decided I’d had enough of jumping off buildings and crashing into walls. I had enough for my own place, and that was always the goal anyway.”
    “And you don’t miss it? Hollywood, the movie business?”
    He gestured with a zucchini before eating it. “It ain’t what it