Page 21 of Crow
Angie looked at the clock above the radio and saw it was after five o’clock. “No, why?”
“No reason. How’d it go at Madera?”
“That place is such a shithole. I wish we could knock that damn slumlord off of subsidized housing. Every time I go there, I just get so mad.”
“I agree. Copeland is one of the worst in town, but if we shut him down, then what happens to the residents?”
“We can help find them a better place to live. I know a lot of them don’t want to live in the projects, but the Santee housing project is nice. It’s new and clean.”
“And almost fully occupied. I’m having a hard enough time finding myself a place to live. I can’t imagine relocating a bunch of people on a fixed income.”
“I know. I just can’t stand that lowlife.”
“Me neither. Do you have any dinner plans?”
“I do, but I’m free tomorrow night,” she replied.
“I’m not. How about Saturday or Sunday?”
“Saturday works.”
“Cool. Have a good time tonight. See you tomorrow,” Joey said.
A warm feeling spread through Angie after the call ended. Joey didn’t fool her: he was checking up on her to make sure she was safe. A smile spread across her face when she thought of all the times Joey had come to her rescue—both in and out of work—during the past year. When she had a flat tire at three in the morning the month before, she’d called him instead of one of her brothers because she knew he’d come and change the tire without lecturing her. If she had called Nick or Dom, the first thing they would’ve asked was why she was out so late. No … Joey was a good friend, and she was happy to have him in her life.
As usual, the parking lot at Chianti’s was almost full, but Angie snagged a space not too far from the front entrance. Snow piles from the recent blizzard stood tall against the steel pillars of the lot’s lights and the chain link fence on its west side.
Angie refreshed her brownish pink lipstick then swiped some sheer pink gloss on top of it. After finger-combing her hair, she grabbed her purse and slipped out of the car.
A wide grin spread across Regina’s face when Angie walked into the restaurant.
“I thought you’d be running late,” Regina said.
“I didn’t go back to the office.”
“Are you all here?” the hostess asked.
“Yes,” Regina replied.
The young woman pulled two menus out from under the host desk and smiled at them. “Follow me,” she said.
The aroma of garlic, basil, and fresh-baked bread wafted through the air. Chianti’s was family-owned and had a homey feel to it. The restaurant’s walls were covered with watercolors of Italy. The bar had fancy bottles housing liqueurs and brandies from around the world.
Their table was near a stone fireplace, where flames crackled in vibrant shades of red, orange, and yellow. Its warmth filled the air, and Angie removed her coat and laid it on an empty chair before taking her seat.
“The heat feels good,” she said.
“It does. I wish spring would get here andstayhere,” Regina said as she opened the menu.
“Me too, but it never seems to take until the middle of May.” Angie snagged a breadstick and dipped it into the soft garlic butter before taking a bite. “I’m starving.”
“Did you skip lunch again?”
“Of course. I get so busy that I’d rather work through lunch than stay later to finish up. Guess who I ran into today.”
Regina looked up from the menu. “The biker,” she said with a hint of merriment in her brown gaze.
Angie nodded. “Is this getting weird or what?”
