Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
My phone dinged. I swiped it up and pressed it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Tessa.” My sister’s voice came across the line low and tight.
“Tess?” I stopped mid-step. “What’s wrong?”
She cleared her throat. “Nana O’Shea called me and asked if I’d open early for her tomorrow morning—for breakfast.” Tessa owned two restaurants, one of them in Silverville.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “Why?”
“She and Nonna Albertini want to meet privately.”
What in all that was holy? I fought the very real urge to cross myself. “What is going on?”
“I don’t know. Please tell me you’ll be there.”
What was happening? “Oh, you bet I’ll be there,” I said quickly, my mind absolutely spinning. “Who else knows about this?”
“Only us. I don’t think we should tell anybody else yet.”
I chewed my lip. “All right. What time are you opening? You normally don’t open until six.”
“Yes. I told her I’d open at five. Honestly, I feel like we’re living in an alternate universe.”
Should I warn the rest of the family? Or wait until I figured out what my grandmothers were doing? “Me either, but I’ll meet you at five.”
“Okay. Thanks.” She ended the call.
I set the phone down and stared at the dark window, my reflection faint in the glass. The rain had eased, but a strange feeling stayed in my chest. Something was definitely off.
Chapter 4
Aiden returned home sometime after midnight. I half-woke when the mattress dipped and his arm slid around my waist. The warmth of him and the steady rhythm of his breathing pulled me right back under. When I opened my eyes again, he was already gone.
By the time I drove over the pass, rain had returned, light but steady, slicking the road in thick sheets. The town slept as I pulled into Silverville and parked in front of Silver Sadie’s, Tessa’s converted bar turned diner.
I grabbed my bag and dashed through the drizzle, boots splashing across puddles.
Inside, the place was dim except for the soft glow from the string lights Tessa had hung for St. Patrick’s Day. Green shamrocks dotted the windows, paper chains looped across the ceiling, and a cardboard leprechaun leaned over the cash register like a cheerful bouncer. Yellow-checked curtains brightened the windows, and the thick wooden floors gleamed under the warm light.
For a moment I just breathed it in, the scent of coffee, butter, and lemon oil settling over me. Silver Sadie’s felt like home. The grandmothers sat at a booth against the far wall, facing each other across a polished wooden table.
Tessa stood behind the bar and leaned over the counter, hair in a messy knot and eyes wide. “They got here before me,” she whispered.
“Of course they did.” I slid onto a stool. “You talk to them yet?”
She rubbed her forehead. “Tried. They ran me off after grilling me about my finances. Our grandmothers could bankrupt a banker.”
I blinked. “They talked about money?”
“Oh yeah. Stocks, savings, retirement plans. I made a break for it after they started discussing compound interest.”
I laughed, more out of nerves than amusement. “So I’m next.”
“Probably.” She pushed a warm blueberry muffin toward me. “Eat first. You’ll need the carbs.”
I broke off a piece and eyed the booth in the back. “How bad could it be?”
Tessa snorted softly. “You’re about to find out.”
Nonna Albertini and Nana O’Shea sat across from each other, twin cups of steaming coffee between them. Neither looked tense, but the quiet between them could have peeled paint.
Nana petite and elegant, had her blondish-red hair swept back, streaked with soft gray that shimmered in the café light. She wore a flowing green wrap sprinkled with gold threads and enough sparkly jewelry to look magical.
Nonna, taller and commanding, had her dark hair pulled up, silver streaks bright at her temples. Her tan trench coat was buttoned neatly, and beside her sat a monstrous black purse large enough to hold a magnifying glass, handcuffs, and a wooden spoon—just in case.
I walked over, doing my best impression of calm. “Morning.”
“Anna, dear,” Nana said with her sweet Irish lilt. “You look tired. Late night?”
I tried for casual. “Sort of.”
Nonna’s smile deepened. “Aiden came back after midnight again?”
“He was working,” I said quickly. “You know, ATF business.”
Nana’s green eyes twinkled. “Such a devoted man. When are you two getting married?”
I blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
Nonna leaned in, resting her chin on her hand. “You’ve been together for quite some time now. Don’t you think it’s time to make it official?”
“Oh, I think about the future all the time,” I said, forcing a laugh that came out more like a squeak. “Just not…wedding registries and color palettes.”
Nana appeared dreamy. “You’d look lovely in cream.”
Nonna nodded, pretending to ponder. “Or something classic. Lace suits you.”
My brain scrambled. “We haven’t even talked about that. We’re happy.”
“Of course you are,” Nonna said smoothly. “But happiness is even better with commitment.”