A/N: This takes place directly after Top Secret Twenty-One.

"There's a fine line between fishing and just standing on the shore like an idiot." Steven Wright

"I can't believe I have to say this, but that wasn't the most embarrassing situation I've had with my grandmother," I told my best friend Mary Lou Stankovich as we climbed out of her minivan.

"It was a first for me and my grandmother," Mary Lou replied. "I'm never going to recover."

Mary Lou's grandmother, Mary Jane, and my grandmother had become best friends in the last several months since Mary Jane had moved back to Trenton after twenty years in Florida. They had discovered a mutual love of bingo, chasing men, and Tony Bennett. Grandma had won four tickets to Tony Bennett's concert in Newark and had immediately asked Mary Jane to go with her. Because it was my grandmother, both my mother and Mary Lou's mother had asked us to go with them in order to supervise. I didn't mind going. I liked Tony Bennett, and it would be a nice trip to catch up with Mary Lou. We didn't see much of one another these days between my crazy job and her crazy, kid-filled life.

"Don't let her embarrass herself," my mother had said to me as we had prepared to leave the house.

"I won't let her embarrass herself," I promised.

As promised, Grandma didn't embarrass herself. She was actually very proud of what eventually happened at the concert. Like beauty, embarrassment is in the eye of the beholder. Or something like that.

Tony Bennett was due to start his show at seven that evening, so we had arrived by six to claim our front row seats. Grandma and Mary Jane excused themselves to the restroom once we'd found our seats and arrived back just in time for the house lights to go down and the crowd to start roaring. It promised to be an excellent show.

I wish I could have seen past the first two minutes.

That's how long it took for Grandma Mazur and Mary Jane to get us kicked out of the venue by security for throwing their bras and underwear on the stage at Tony. Mary Jane had an impressive arm because her C-cup, granny bra managed to land right on top of Tony's head.

"Tony, we love you!" Grandma and Mary Jane shouted simultaneously, like teenage girls at a Justin Bieber concert.

Security had physically escorted Grandma and Mary Jane out of the building with Mary Lou and me trailing behind. Mary Lou had put on sunglasses and kept her head down, not wanting to be associated with the lunatics who had interrupted the show. I avoided eye contact with everyone we passed, but didn't bother with a disguise. At least the building hadn't burnt down.

Since we had an entire evening to still be in Newark, and no one was interested in telling our families about the incident at the concert, we decided to go to one of Mary Jane's favorite restaurants in Newark, Esmerelda. It was a Cuban fusion restaurant that had received raves on Yelp and Urbanspoon. It was considered fine dining with valet parking, a full bar, and two large banquet rooms available for reservation. Mary Lou left her van with the valet and we headed into the ten-story building. We walked through a large, two-story lobby towards the restaurant entrance on the first floor. Mary Jane had called ahead and had reserved a table. Being it was a Tuesday night, it hadn't been as hard to manage.

The restaurant was a large, open room with round tables of various sizes scattered throughout. The bar area was separated by a half-wall along the far side of the room. Pillars were scattered throughout the room, each wrapped in strings of white lights. The house lights were low, but each table had additional lighting as a centerpiece. The décor ran towards sultry with deep reds, dark wood, and ivory tablecloths. Framed, impressionist art and mirrors hung on the walls. There was also a dance floor in the center of the room and several people were dancing to slow, Latin music.

We followed a pretty woman in her early twenties through the room and around the dance floor. The restaurant was nearly full, mixed with people of all ethnicities and ages. Apparently Cuban fusion wasn't just popular with the Latino crowd. As I was preparing to take my seat at the five-person round table, I caught a whiff of Bulgari Green shower gel and turned around to find Ranger standing behind me. He was dressed in a black suit with a black dress shirt open at the collar.

"Hello there, Ranger," Grandma Mazur said as she took her own seat. "It's a surprise to see you here. Would you like to join us?"

I wasn't sure how Ranger was feeling about coming face-to-face with Grandma after she had seen him naked in Atlantic City last month. I happened to know she had talked of nothing else with her friends for a week straight afterwards.

"Is he the one—," Mary Jane began, but I stood up quickly and blocked her view.

"So what are you doing here?" I asked loudly, covering up her conversation with Grandma.

I saw his lips twitch, though I couldn't tell if he was fighting a smile or a grimace.

"I'm having dinner with some of my family. They would like to meet you," he replied.

"Family?" I asked. "Your actual family? Like parents and siblings and stuff?"

"Yes, parents, three of my siblings and their spouses, and my grandmother."

I was momentarily stunned. Ranger was incredibly private about everything—the only things I'd known about his family had been that he had one brother, four sisters, and that his parents and a grandmother lived in Newark. I hadn't been sure if any of them actually existed. Ranger seemed like someone who could have appeared out of thin air one day. Now I had the chance to meet some of his family. I couldn't pass up the opportunity.

"Sure," I said. I told Mary Lou to order me a white wine before Ranger took my hand and walked me through the room.

"Aren't you going to give your family the wrong idea about us by holding my hand?" I asked. I was half-joking, half-serious.

"Babe, I've told them about you. They won't think anything of me holding your hand."

What did that mean? I didn't have time to consider it too much as we approached a large, ten-person table. There was an empty seat that had its back to a mirror on the wall—undoubtedly Ranger's seat— but the rest of the seats were filled. Everyone at the table was Latino with the exception of a pretty redheaded woman seated next to a good-looking man in his thirties.

"Everyone, this is Stephanie Plum," Ranger said, putting a hand on my back. I smiled and gave a small wave, feeling slightly awkward.

"Welcome to Esmerelda," the redhead said brightly. "I'm Lucy, Emilio's wife. We own the restaurant. Have you been here before?"

I was momentarily surprised that Ranger's brother would be a restauranteur. I wasn't sure what I had expected. "No, I haven't. Our plans, um, fell through, and so my friend's grandmother had recommended we come here for dinner. She's a big fan."

"Forgive my son's poor manners," a middle-aged woman with shaggy brown hair said. "I'm Lola, Carlos's mother. This is his father, Javier, and his grandmother, Rosa. She doesn't speak English."

Ranger had inherited his smile and cheek bones from his mother, but dimples and eyes from his father. I saw the same eyes on his grandmother, who smiled back at me.

I heard Ranger emit the smallest sigh. "This is my sister Celia, and her husband Andres," he said, indicating the man and woman seated next to his father. The woman looked slightly older than Ranger, but I didn't think she was much over forty.

"And this is my sister Sofia, and her husband Tony," Ranger said, indicating a couple seated next to Emilio. The woman looked vaguely familiar. I suspected she may have once been a model. She certainly had the looks for it.

"I'm his brother, in case you were wondering," Emilio said with a grin. "Obviously the better-looking of the Manoso brothers."

His wife snorted and covered it up with a cough, taking a sip of red wine when he looked in her direction.

"What were your plans for this evening?" Lola asked.

"We were supposed to be at the Tony Bennett concert, but there was an issue," I said, hoping to get away without having to explain further.

"A friend of mine is there right now," Celia said. "She sent me a text message earlier to say the concert had been interrupted for a minute because some older women in the front row had thrown their bras and panties at Tony during the first song. Apparently it was hilarious."

I caught sight of Ranger in the mirror and he started laughing. I shook my head and looked down at my feet.

"Yeah, that was my grandmother and her friend," I said, which caused the table to break out into laughter. "My mother is going to kill me. She made me chaperone so that they wouldn't do anything embarrassing."

"Well, what woman hasn't wanted to throw her panties at Tony Bennett at least one point in her life," Lola said, making everyone at the table look at her with surprise. Ranger immediately stopped laughing.

"That's what you get," I whispered in his ear.

"I'll never be able to listen to Tony Bennett again."

"I should probably get back to them before they do something else," I said, looking over their direction. All three women were breaking their necks to see what I was doing. "And allow you to get back to your dinner. It was great to meet all of you and see that you actually exist."

"And this isn't even the whole crew," Celia said. "We have two more sisters and their husbands. And there are fourteen grandchildren. So far. We can only hope to keep growing."

That comment had been aimed very pointedly at Ranger, who ignored her.

"I'll talk to you later," I said, intending to leave Ranger with his family, but he held onto me and escorted me back to my table. I noticed that Grandma Mazur and Mary Jane were missing.

"Where did they go?" I asked Mary Lou. She pointed to the dance floor, where Grandma and Mary Jane were each dancing with a couple of men I'd seen at the bar as we had walked through the restaurant. Both were Latino and in their seventies.

"I've been keeping an eye on them," she said while Ranger pulled out my chair.

"Wow, trying to show your mother that you do have manners?" I joked as I sat down. Ranger pushed my chair in and leaned down to kiss my cheek. "Later, babe."

So now he had held my hand and kissed me in front of his family. Granted, it was on the cheek, but it still seemed important. This was a man who kept a very low profile, and I imagined that included with his family.

"God, I could bang him like a screen door," Mary Lou said dreamily, staring after Ranger with her wine glass dangling lazily in one hand. "How on earth do you manage to resist him?"

"Simple—he doesn't want a relationship beyond sex," I said, tasting my own wine. "I know he cares about me some, but he won't get too involved."

"Why do you need a heavy involvement?" Mary Lou asked. "You and Morelli aren't exclusive, and he's dating someone else. Why not you?"

I nearly spit out my next sip of wine. "What?! Joe's dating someone else?"

Mary Lou's eyes got wide. "You didn't know?"

"Does it look like I knew?" I asked. "Who is it? How long have they been going out?"

Mary Lou looked torn. "Are you sure you want to know? You're looking a little crazy right now."

I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down. "Yes, I want to know. I'll be fine."

"It's Karen Jones from high school. Remember her? Brunette, about your size, dated Louie Giano most senior year?"

I remembered her. She had been a nice girl in high school. Everyone had liked her, but she hadn't been part of the popular crowd. Neither had I.

"Didn't she and Louie get married right after graduation? I'd heard she was pregnant."

"Yep, they had a son, Matthew. He's a teenager now. And I think they have a daughter that's about four. They got divorced about two years ago. She's the manager of the Chili's in Hamilton Township," Mary Lou said, draining the last of her wine. "I think they started dating a couple of months ago, but I can't swear to it."

I took a few more deep breaths, trying to push the lump in my throat back down. Morelli had the right to date someone else. We'd reached that agreement a while ago in order to help keep our relationship in the on position more often than it had been in the past. Though to my knowledge neither of us had really pursued anything else until now. I'd had a couple of run-ins with Ranger, but it had been short-lived. My conscience had gotten the better of me.

"Are you okay?" Mary Lou asked.

"I'm fine," I said. "It's okay. He's allowed to see other women. I'm allowed to see other men. I'm a little surprised he didn't tell me, but I'm okay."

"So back to my original question," Mary Lou continued, clearly hoping to steer me away from unpleasant thoughts about Morelli's relationship with Karen. "Why won't you get involved with Ranger? If he isn't interested in anything too serious, then why can't that be okay? Morelli's seeing two people at the same time. Why can't you?"

I considered my response as we ordered our meals. Grandma Mazur and Mary Jane had left notes with what they wanted so that they could stay out on the dance floor until the meals were served. I kept discreetly glancing in Ranger's direction while Mary Lou read out the orders. He was talking to his mother, occasionally taking a sip of red wine. I saw him laugh about something and he glanced my way. I immediately turned my gaze back to my menu and ordered some sort of chicken and rice dish. I gave my menu to the waiter and managed another quick look. He had his cell phone out and was typing someone on it. A few seconds later, I heard my own phone ding with a text message.

Looking good tonight, babe. Tony missed out.

I fought a smile. I was wearing a purple cocktail dress with cap sleeves. We'd all agreed that we wanted to get dressed up for the concert, since Tony was a classy sort of man. I finished my wine and the waiter approached to ask if I'd like another. I said yes.

"I keep myself cut off from Ranger because I'm afraid that if I was physically involved with him my feelings would get even more complicated than they already are," I said to Mary Lou. "I have a hard time getting my feelings straightened out after getting physical with Ranger. I love him, but I think I'd just be setting myself up to get hurt if I spent any more time around him."

"What about Morelli?" she asked.

"I love him too," I said, defensively.

Mary Lou looked at me expectantly. "I'm sensing a but in there somewhere."

"I don't know that I could love Morelli any more than I already do," I admitted. "If we became exclusive, even if Ranger were out of the picture completely, I don't think my feelings would become any stronger."

"Where do they measure up in terms of your feelings for Ranger?"

I was saved from having to respond by the return of Grandma Mazur and Mary Jane. They were slightly breathless and in need of a drink before returning to the dance floor.

"Those two men are just wonderful," Mary Jane said after taking a sip of water. "They're real gentlemen. You girls will have to meet them later."

Mary Lou decided to take a moment to check in on Lenny and the kids, so I was left alone at the table with my thoughts. I glanced over at Ranger again and considered Mary Lou's last question. At the moment, my feelings for both men were about the same. On the surface, that didn't seem too bad, but when I examined it more I realized it was terrible. My relationship with Morelli had been far more involved, emotionally and physically, than my relationship with Ranger, but they had someone managed to come out even. And as I'd told Mary Lou, my feelings for Morelli felt maxed out, whereas I was pretty sure I could fall deeper in love with Ranger if things ever got more serious between us. Another reason I'd never been able to let myself get involved with Ranger was because I had always been sure he would never allow the relationship to develop into anything more than sex and non-committal love. He had made some interesting comments in the past year since our time in Hawaii together, but he always back-peddled or diminished them in some way.

I was startled by the ding of another text message on my phone. Trying to picture me naked?

I hadn't realized I'd been so zoned out that I'm failed to notice him looking my way again. I tapped out a reply. I was zoned out for a minute. Tell Lucy they have great wine.

Mary Lou returned a minute later. "I've made the obligatory check-in call on the kids. No one's dead, so it should be a good night. But back to you and your man problem," she said. "I think you should seriously consider talking to Ranger about having a semi-committed—or whatever you want to call it—relationship with you. Maybe he has been waiting for you to approach him about it."

The rest of the evening began to blur as I continued to consume more wine. I had managed to get Mary Lou off of the Morelli versus Ranger discussion, but I continued to sneak glances at Ranger and his family throughout the evening. It didn't take an insider to realize that these were people who loved each other and got along well. I couldn't remember a time when I'd seen Ranger smile or laugh more, except for possibly when we were in Hawaii. I couldn't hear their conversation, I could see him talking, again more than I had ever seen him talk in a single setting. Something about the whole situation made me feel incredibly sad.

The dinner was phenomenal and the two men that Grandma Mazur and Mary Jane had met were sweet old men who had been best friends since their childhood in Cuba. They had left the country together, had gone to college and medical school together, and had even continued to be neighbors long after they'd each married and started a family. Both were now widowed. By eleven o'clock that night, Mary Lou and I had both had too much to drink to drive safely back to Trenton.

"We could ride the train, and come back for your car in the morning," I suggested.

"It would probably be on its way to a chop shop by then," Mary Lou said.

"I could drive us," Grandma offered. She'd had almost as much wine as we had, and she was the world's worst driver. I was contemplating whether those two negatives would make a positive when I saw Ranger headed towards our table. All of his family, except for his brother and sister-in-law, were headed towards the exit.

"I have someone outside who can drive Mary Lou home in her car," Ranger said. "They can drop your grandmother and Mary Jane off as well."

"What about me?" I asked as everyone stood up to leave. I was feeling a little light-headed, but not seriously enough to stagger.

"You're coming with me," he replied, grabbing my hand and pulling me behind him. I suppressed a snort of laughter.

"Is that a promise?"

I saw him grin. "It's a guarantee."

I heard Mary Lou chuckle behind me. "Like a screen door in a hurricane," she whispered in my ear, and we exchanged high-fives.

We saw Mary Lou, Grandma Mazur, and Mary Jane off while we waited for the valet to bring around Ranger's Turbo. Now that I was alone with him, I was considering what Mary Lou said. Why shouldn't I be able to manage two semi-serious relationships at the same time? Morelli was doing it, and I didn't hear anyone saying anything bad about him. But considering I'd only heard about the relationship two hours ago, it was possible that people did say those things about him, just not to me.

I spent the first fifteen minutes of the drive jiggling my foot and trying to figure out how to approach the conversation with Ranger without immediately turning him off.

"Spit it out, babe," he said as we passed the exit for Elizabeth.

"What?"

"Whatever it is that you've been wanting to say. I can feel the car jerking with the movement of your foot and you've been mumbling to yourself."

I took a deep breath and held it for a beat. "How would describe our relationship?" I asked.

Ranger glanced over at me. "Why?"

"I'm curious. You told me you've mentioned me to your family before, so they wouldn't be surprised that you were holding my hand. What did that mean? What have you told them about me, or us?"

"They know you helped to find Julie when she was kidnapped, and that I was shot in your apartment," he said. "They know I helped you learn the ropes in bond enforcement and that you work for me occasionally. They know you're important to me because people who want to get to me keep targeting you."

"Seriously, that's it?" I asked, feeling deflated. "I work for you, helped you find your missing daughter, and I'm important to you?"

"What did you expect?"

What had I been expecting? I leaned my head back against the seat and looked out the window. I wasn't sure what I had been expecting, but I had a feeling I had gotten what I was looking for—one more reason not to get involved with Ranger. While my feelings for both him and Morelli were about even, and I believed Morelli's feelings for me where about even with my feelings for him, it was becoming more painfully obvious that Ranger's feelings were not even with mine. I was the more invested one, and it felt awful to realize it. But it also made sense why I'd felt sad watching Ranger with his family. They seemed like really nice people, people I would get along with and who would probably like me, unlike Morelli's family. But I had the feeling that I would probably never see them again. Ranger would never bring me around unless there was some purpose, like a job, and if they asked to see me, I'm sure he would have a million excuses made up. The gap between our feelings felt as wide as the Grand Canyon.

The ride home should have felt romantic and cozy. We were both dressed for a nice evening out and were riding in the warm luxury of Ranger's sexy sports car. I tried to imagine what people who could have seen us would have thought about us. We were a couple headed home from date night. They would assume that we would go back to our shared home and probably have sex after an enjoyable evening out. That we would cuddle afterwards and that he would get up the next morning in order to make our breakfast. I guess they could have possibly assumed I was a mid-class escort headed to his place for the second part of the paid evening, but I thought that was unlikely. I doubted anyone would assume we were these friends, for lack of a better term, who had spent the last three-and-a-half years blurring the lines of friendship and love, neither of us doing much of anything in an attempt to better define the relationship.