"Joey, where did this come from?" Linda Genova said, sitting across from Joey Viglucci. Linda had been dating Joey seriously for the last six months. He was one of the most handsome men she'd ever met. He kept his silky black hair all one length and wore it pulled back in a ponytail. He had thick, dark brows that framed piercing, intense blue eyes. His skin was dark with a Mediterranean olive tint that made him look all that much more exotic.

Using the cloth napkin to dab at spaghetti sauce around the corner of his mouth, Joey shrugged. "Linda, we've been together a long time." He spoke with confidence, in a slow calculated way.

It wasn't a ring, but that was his point, wasn't it. "I don't know about this," Linda said. "Moving in together?" She wasn't sure how she felt about it. She loved being with Joey. They didn't just go to restaurants; they went to the restaurants. People everywhere seemed to know Joey. They never waited in any lines.

"You want time to think about it?" Joey asked. "You can take time to think about it." Calm and cool. Linda admired that about him. He never seemed to get anxious or ruffled.

Working as a paralegal in a large law firm, Linda thought getting anxious and struggling to keep her cool seemed like part of the written job expectations. Linda knew better than to make a knee-jerk decision. He was offering her time to think about it. She would be foolish not to use that time to sift through the pros and cons. She already knew Joey made her feel special. Not to mention, anywhere they went women stared at him, but he never acknowledged them. Linda knew he saw them, too. He'd have to be blind to miss the blatant ogling. But even though his attention never wavered, she still had to ask herself if she loved him.

He made it sound as if their six-month relationship was a long time to be together, but she knew it wasn't. Linda had been in relationships that lasted years before going sour. Perhaps they had gone sour because they needed to extend to the next level, a greater commitment level, but instead fell flat at a stagnate dead-end.

"Yes, I think I would like to think about it," Linda said finally. She immediately saw the hurt look in his expression, but also noted how quickly he recovered.

"Certainly," Joey said, setting down his napkin. "Care for dessert?"

She no longer felt hungry. The thoughts in her mind spun out of control in a mental whirlwind. "I'm stuffed from the meal. That was fantastic veal."

"What did I tell you? I don't know how they prepare their sauce, but it's something special here," Joey said. He held a finger in the air. A waiter appeared. "I would like a cappuccino. Linda?"

The waiter looked at Linda and she nodded. "Sounds good."

"What's wrong, Linda?" Joey asked. He sounded concerned. "Are you upset?"

"Upset? No. You just invited me to move in with you and now we're going to drink cappuccino. I just feel a bit confused," Linda said, laughing. She did not want Joey to think she was confused in a bad way. She just felt strange going from having to make a serious decision to what she will now drink.

As if reading her mind, he said, "We can talk a little about it now if you'd like." Joey leaned back so the waiter could remove his empty dinner plate. "Please, Vincent, let Chef Andrea know how much the meal was enjoyed."

"I will, Mr. Viglucci. Thank you." The waiter removed the empty plate from in front of Linda. "Ma'am."

"Thank you." Linda folded her hands in her lap.

Oftentimes Linda felt the way Joey treated people was odd, but more often she thought it odd how people treated Joey. There was a respect thing that always reminded Linda of those old Godfather films. People catered to Joey, and he tipped nearly everyone he came in contact with.

Joey ran the family construction company, which was passed down after his father was killed in a freak accident at a construction site nearly ten years ago. She also knew, aside from the strange way Joey's father died that it was hard to find a building in Rochester not built by Viglucci Construction. And although Linda knew the Mafia didn't exist anymore, she felt pretty confident that if investigated, Joey's family tree would branch back to mob ties. That thought did not bother her. Every family has a history. Why should she worry that his grandfather and great uncles might have been in the, as she has heard it referred to, Family Business. What mattered was that Joey was not involved in any criminal activity now.

"What are you thinking," Joey asked.

Whenever she was silent too long he always wanted to know what she was thinking. He never made the question sound as if he were being nosey. He always seems to sound sincere, Linda thought. He seems like an all around great guy. So why am I having trouble deciding whether or not to live with him? "I was thinking about us."

"About my proposition?" Joey said coolly.

Maybe she thought that was part of the problem she had. He was too cool all of the time. In the six months they had been dating she has seen him display three different emotions: cool, horny and tired. Could that be real? Could that be all there was to Joey? If it were, was it really a problem or was it hard to admit that she liked all three images?

Then her thought went to the word "proposition." It was close to proposal, but not close enough. Joey made this sound like a business deal. Would I need to sign a contract, she wondered. He was forcing her to examine and scrutinize the relationship. "What about my house?"

"You can do with it what you like. Rent it out, or sell it." Joey took a sip from his cup. His little pinkie was raised just enough in the air to give him a literary, artsy-fartsy look. "You can play landlord. You know I own some property and I love being a landlord."

"That's you, Joey. And you don't just own some property, you own most of the double houses in the city," Linda said. "What if I get a poor family, some young couple with a few kids and they have trouble coming up with the rent?"

"There is a term that comes to mind for that kind of situation," Joey said, taking another sip of his cappuccino. "Eviction. You have it as a clause in the contract. You have it say something like, if rent is paid later than 30 days from the day it is due then gather your belongings and pack your bags and start looking for another place." Joey smiled. "I'll let my attorney draw up papers. I'm not good with all that legal mumbo-jumbo."

"You're rotten," Linda said. She knew Joey was kidding around. "I'm serious. Have you ever run into that type of situation?"

"A few times," Joey said.

This was another thing Linda wondered about. Joey rarely talked about his work. Sometimes he would call her from work and they'd meet for lunch. They discussed her job, or she did, anyway, but whenever she asked him about his job, he'd shrug, or vaguely respond with something generic, like how busy he was, or that one guy who's always giving him crap about one thing or another. Expertly, Joey always managed to change the subject, or reroute the conversation back to Linda.

Why am I so critically analyzing everything about this man now? Linda wondered. It's because Joey is getting serious and wants to move the relationship along, she tried to tell herself. In a way she was comforted by her ability to think a situation through thoroughly before reacting.

"So what did you do?"

Joey was silent for a moment. He looked uncomfortable. The attention was on him. This was perhaps the most she had ever pressed him about his job before. It seemed oddly clear that he did not like it. "I had to evict them, Linda."

Linda tried not to gasp. She knew her facial expression had to be giving away the shock she felt. "You evicted people before?"

"Only a few times," Joey said. He quickly continued on. "Once around Christmas, this guy and his family were stringing me along. The guy kept telling me he'd pay. I knew he was out of a job. He was working for the city as a pipe fitter. It snowed in early October that year, and there wasn't much work and his unemployment checks were not even a quarter of what he'd been bringing in so he went through those checks buying groceries and stuff. He was three months behind in rent though, you know?"

"Christmastime?" Linda asked. She studied Joey's face. He didn't look upset, and only appeared slightly embarrassed. Having trouble making eye contact, Joey kept looking down at his miniature coffee cup. His finger traced the edge of the saucer. "Joey, you didn't? Did you? How?" Linda asked.

"Look Linda, it's a business," Joey said, his voice strong and commanding. He had no trouble staring at her now, but more than that, he appeared to be staring her down. She felt challenged, but accepted it and did not look away.

"You evicted people at Christmastime, sending a family out into the streets?"

"Linda, I was there, in his house. He had a tree with presents under it. Where was he getting the money for presents, huh?" Joey asked. A new side of him was coming out, his shell, cool and calm, was cracking.

"He had children, Joey? How many?"

"I don't know. Three, four?" Joey said. Linda watched him clench his teeth and grind them, his jaw muscles looked like rippling waves of skin along his cheeks. "Linda, this is crazy. What are we doing here? Huh? Why are we doing this?"

"We're talking Joey. And this is not crazy. I want to know more about this eviction. Why couldn't you give the guy a job with one of your construction crews?" Linda asked. "You're always saying how you don't have enough good employees."

"This guy was a bum, Linda. He was milking the system and getting a free ride at my expense," Joey said. He had started to raise his voice, but brought it back under control. There was something different in those piercing and intense blue eyes that Linda was seeing for the first time. Ice.

Linda could not believe the way the events of the date were unfolding. She suddenly felt as if she might be sharing a meal with a stranger. "At your expense? Joey, it seems like you have more money than anyone else in Rochester," Linda said.

"That has nothing to do with running a business and running it properly," Joey argued. He spoke through clenched teeth, again. He was clearly agitated and perhaps angry. "Linda..."

"Don't you think there has to be some kind of line between running a business and just being human and compassionate toward others?" Linda said.

"Yes. And that was exactly where I drew the line." He spoke in a matter of fact tone. It sounded like he wanted to end the conversation. As far as Linda was concerned, all he accomplished was planting his foot firmly in his mouth.

Linda did not appreciate the way Joey thought he could control the conversation, as if he could just brush aside her concerns. "You know what? I don't agree with what you did. Right now, I'm not too thrilled to be with you. I honestly had no idea you could be so cold."

"Me cold? What about you? You work at a big law firm, surrounded by bloodthirsty, ambulance chasing sharks," Joey said, trying to punch below the belt.

Linda knew the blow stung, but she found it easy to shake off. "The people I work with try to help people. My job is to investigate complaints from people who think big companies aren't treating them properly." Linda's approach to an investigation was to never assume that a company is right, but rather to ensure every complainant receives an impartial and complete review of the situation. "It might sound idealistic..."

Joey sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Some speech, Linda. It means nothing to me. To me, what you're saying is that you sold out to the man. You work for some big law firm, representing big companies who concentrate on squashing the little person. Am I close on that one, Lin?"

Those words stung. She said, "You couldn't be any further from the truth!"

How could what she had just said mean nothing to him? Her job was more than a job. It was part of the way in which she defined herself. Linda believed everything she just said. She spent close to sixty hours a week helping those less fortunate. Or was she wrong? Could he have been very close to the truth? Was this fight about the eviction at all? It could be over something more basic. How could she move in with a man she did not love?

All at once, Linda stood up. "You know what? Not only do I not want to move in with you, I don't think we should see each other anymore, either."

"Linda, sit down and stop raising your voice." Joey was commanding her to do as he ordered, and she did not like it at all. "Linda, please, sit."

"This side of you, this part of you, it came out of nowhere tonight. I never saw it before," Linda said, shaking her head. She stood rigidly with her hands balled into fists and her arms stiff at her sides. "It's like you are two different people, and I don't like the one I am seeing now."

"Linda, sit down," Joey said. He was trying to smile. It was obvious he did not like the attention Linda was drawing. "Now."

That did it. Now? Who does he think he is? Linda wondered. In all her life, she had never done what she was about to do. She picked up her wine and splashed it into Joey's face. "Don't you ever tell me what to do. You don't own me," Linda said in a stern whisper. She had not intended to create such a scene, or any scene for that matter.

As she turned to leave, she felt him grab her arm with a strong hand. He was on his feet, digging his fingers into her flesh. "You're hurting me," she said. As he dug his fingers in he seemed to be squashing the meat under her skin against her bones. She felt tears coming, but fought back the urge to cry. "Stop it."

Joey was standing right next to her. His face was in front of hers and the way he looked at her made Linda think that he might be possessed. She was shocked by everything that had taken place, but was most of all taken aback by his exhibition of violence. "Let go of me right now," Linda said, demanding a courage and strength of herself that she did not know existed.

Instinctively, Linda felt eyes on them. Everyone in the restaurant had to be watching them.

"Ma'am, are you all right?" Two guys stood next to Linda. She looked over at them. They were men smaller than Joey, but she respected their desire to help. Joey let go of her arm and hissed. "There's no problem, gentlemen. I was just leaving."

"Good," one of the men said. Linda was not sure which one.

Linda watched Joey throw a large bill on the table. "That should cover the meal and tip. Have a nice, lonely and pathetic life." His sneer reminded Linda of a wolf, a rabid wolf. She almost flinched at his words. Almost. He wasn't about to hurt her, not anymore, not in front of all these people. Not ever.

When Joey Viglucci left the restaurant, the two men helped Linda sit back down. "Are you all right?" they both asked.

"I'm fine." Linda knew she was not fine. Her mind was in a panic mode. The fight, as it replayed itself back in her memory, seemed frivolous and insignificant. Joey was a landlord. He had a job to do and collecting rent was the most essential function of that job. Why did I let things get out of control like that? she wondered.

"Do you need anything? A ride home?"

"No. I'm going to call a friend. I appreciate what both of you did. Thank you," Linda said, dismissing her saviors. Did the argument make sense? Did I pick a fight because I was disappointed when he asked me to move in and not to get married?

Linda pulled out her cell phone. She hated to call for a ride, but it was that, or pay for a cab. "Patty?" she said when her friend answered. "Are you busy right now?"