Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
When I made my way back down, I caught a snippet of conversation about Valley’s new job at some prestigious private school. A place so fancy that it only had a four-day school week, which was why she was in my kitchen, drinking my coffee, on a weekday morning.
“There you are, oh, you look so handsome,” my mother said, giving me a fond smile. “Don’t you have a kiss for your mother?” she asked, arching her cheek up toward me. And I was quick to plant a kiss there.
“How are you, Ma?” I asked, grabbing a mug, and pouring myself a cup of coffee.
“Funny you ask,” she said and my eyes closed as I let out an exhale, knowing that tone. It was never good for me. “I was doing just wonderfully. Planning the birthday menu for your brother, August. When I was informed that my son, my firstborn child, was involved in a shooting.”
Christ.
Yeah.
That was a misstep for sure.
I’d been so distracted with thoughts of Savannah that I’d totally forgotten to update my mother personally.
Big mistake.
Huge.
“Ma…”
“No, you don’t get to Ma me like I’m the unreasonable one. You were shot at.”
“I was shoved to the ground by the woman who took two bullets meant for me,” I told her, watching as her face fell. “I’ve been trying to find ways to thank her,” I explained. “I was… distracted. I’m sorry.”
“How is she?” my mom asked, pressing a hand to her heart.
Giulia Grassi could go from hard-ass to soft-hearted in a blink. I figure it had to do with marrying into a mafia Family and then raising five sons who grew up to join the Family as well.
“She’s okay. Looks pale. I’m going to check on her again today after a meeting with Luca,” I told her.
“She saved your life?” my mom asked, hand downright clutching her heart then.
“She did. She saw the gun, and she shoved me to the ground.”
“What does she like? Lasagne? Baked ziti? Manicotti? What can I make her?” she asked. My mom, like all the moms in the family, showed their love with food.
“I don’t know, but I can ask.”
“Yes, ask. I will have all the aunts ready to do a meal train. We need her address too.”
I could object, claim it was too much.
But this was my mom.
She would find a way around me if I didn’t just get her what she wanted. And perhaps warn poor Savannah while I was at it.
“Okay, Mom. I’m sure she and her mom will really appreciate it.”
“Have you met her mother?” she asked, and that damn tone was back. The one I knew my mother well enough to know meant ‘Does this mean my perpetually single son is getting serious about a woman?’
“Over her daughter’s bleeding body, yes,” I said, trying to drive home that this wasn’t a meet-cute.
The mission was accomplished as her face went serious again. “That poor woman. Seeing your children hurt… there is nothing worse.”
“Sofia says we are going to all be frequenting their establishment when it reopens,” Valley said as she hopped off the counter.
Even though she had no work that day, she had on emerald green wide-leg slacks, a white blouse, and heels. Her light brown wavy hair was pulled back into a low bun, and she had mascara and liner around her light green eyes.
“Yeah. I think they could use the business,” I told her.
“Well, we can certainly give them that,” my mother said, nodding, having a new mission in life. Keeping the woman who’d saved her son in business. “Do you know when it will reopen?” she asked.
“I don’t. But it is just her and her mom. So I imagine it will be a while, as Savannah recovers.”
“Savannah. What a beautiful name,” my mom declared.
“It would go so well with Grassi, don’t you think?” Valley asked, smirking at the death glare I shot her.
“How’s the love life, Valley?” I asked. “Any men we should know about?” I asked, always happy to deflect. As bad as our mom was on all of us male children, she was even harder on Valley about settling down.
“Right. Like I would subject any man I was seeing to the likes of you all,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Your career is important,” our mother said as she started to plate the food. “But so is a family, if you still want one,” she added.
“I do,” Valley said. “But it’s normal for women not to have kids until after their mid-twenties now,” she reminded her.
The conversation turned mostly to family stuff over breakfast, as it always did when you had one as massive as ours. There was always something going on. Someone who got whacked with a spatula because they cussed out their mom or, worse yet, insulted the dinner she lovingly prepared for them. Someone dating someone unworthy. A birthday or anniversary coming up. Pregnancy announcements. New apartments.