Page 26 of Fury
Carrera spent the next few hours working with Gracie. They cleared out emails and followed up with any outstanding customer-related issues. She appeared responsible, but the gnawing in his gut wouldn’t go away. He wasn’t going to quit his job at the Bureau, but he couldn’t abandon his business either. He’d trial her while he figured out next steps.
Then, he checked in with the rest of the team. They’d sobered up and were taking care of business. At seven that evening, his employees left, and he locked up behind them.
On the way to Russell’s restaurant in Arlington, he remembered back to when he and Mara had first decided to open the business.
Just ten months apart, they’d been best buds as kids. Both went to the University of Pennsylvania. He studied criminal justice, she, business. After graduating, he accepted a position at the Bureau. She worked for a marketing firm until they came up with the idea for the tour boat cruise line. They pooled their savings, borrowed money from G-ma—which they repaid with interest—and grew it from an idea on a napkin to the area’s most popular boat excursions.
I miss you, Mara.
He knew it was wrong to compare his sisters. Jazz and Mara were completely different. Mara was all about being responsible. Jazz was a free spirit. Mara squirreled her money away while Jazz spent hers, then went in search of more.
He loved both his sisters, and he ached for his loss, for his family’s loss.
His thoughts were pulled back to the moment when he drove into the parking lot of Russell’s. Local news vans made it impossible to find a spot. Carrera drove around back and parked.
As he made his way around the building, he spotted Russell escorting G-ma toward the entrance while the camera crews captured their moment.
He dropped some pounds.
In addition to slimming down, Russell had cut his hair military-short. His dark suit, white shirt, and power-red tie were a change from the Khaki pants and golf shirts he used to wear.
Carrera had only seen Russell a few times in the six months since his friend had moved back. Between his tight schedule, and Russell’s new restaurant, they’d been keeping in touch through texts.
Before entering the eatery, Russell addressed the news crews. “Helping others is what gets me out of bed every single day.”
“Is that your Grandmom?” asked one of the reporters.
“Elsa is a close friend’s grandmother,” he replied, “but I’ve known her most of my life, so yeah, I think of her as my G-ma.”
“Russell Fitzpatrick is a hard-working, trustworthy, young man,” G-ma said before painting on a smile.
Carrera bit back a laugh. Russell had asked her to say that.
Russell kissed her cheek. “Aww, thanks G-ma.” He smiled at the television crews. “Come on in and we’ll get you set up with some incredible appetizers.”
With another ear-to-ear grin, Russell vanished inside with his grandmother.
Carrera held the door while everyone traipsed past. The restaurant was busy, but not filled to capacity. After Russellseated G-ma at a table, he started saying hello to the seated customers. Carrera made his way over, sat next to his grandmother at a four-top.
“Hey, G-ma. You look pretty.”
She smiled. “Thank you, dear. Russell wanted me to say that line. How’d I do?”
“You rocked it out,” he said, and she laughed.
A server delivered a tray of appetizers. Sliders, fried calamari, grilled peppers, and macaroni salad. Even though Carrera had been hungry for hours, the food didn’t look very appetizing.
G-ma leaned up and he put his ear next to her mouth. “The macaroni salad is bad. Don’t eat it.”
He raised his brows.
She nodded. “Rancid. I can smell it.”
He grimaced. “Have you eaten?”
“Homemade lasagna.”
His stomach growled. “I can wait.” Rather than dig into the sliders, which looked meh, he glanced around the room.
