Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
He doesn’t take his eyes off the document he’s reading and just nods.
Opening the door, I murmur, “Bye.” I quickly climb out of the SUV, and shutting the door behind me, I rush around the back of the vehicle and dart into the airconditioned store.
“Mother of God, Tori. Is that Mr. Rizzo’s car?” Rosa asks, her eyes wide on the vehicle still parked outside her store.
“Yes.” I shrug and try to play it off as nothing. “He just gave me a ride because it’s so hot outside.”
She lifts an eyebrow at me. “That man does nothing for free. Be careful of him.”
Nodding, I follow her to the back, where she spends most of her time making bouquets.
“Can we have roses for the Parish this week?” I ask while trying to do my best to ignore the fact that Angelo Rizzo is giving me way too much attention.
“Roses are expensive, but I can add baby’s breath and daisies.”
“That would be great.” I glance at all the buckets holding various fresh flowers. “I made pasta alla Norma for Father Parisi,” I inform her so we don’t accidentally prepare the same dish for him.
“Okay. I’ll make maccu for him later this week.”
Soup? In this heat?
Thankfully, Rosa doesn’t notice the surprise on my face because she’s busy cutting stems shorter.
“What are you baking for Mass?” she asks.
“Cannolis. It’s been a while since we had them for coffee hour.”
“Make extra in case there are more people again.”
Nodding, I say, “I will.” Taking a step toward the front section of the store, I add, “I should get going. I want to be home before lunch.”
Rosa holds a pink carnation out to me. “Yes, get out of this heat.”
Taking the flower, I offer her a friendly smile. “See you on Sunday.”
Leaving Rosa to her work, I notice the SUV is still parked out front.
Oh no!
I hesitate for a moment, but knowing I can’t hide here all day, I let out a groan as I leave the store.
The moment I step onto the sidewalk, the backdoor of the vehicle is shoved open.
God, help me.
When I cautiously glance inside, Angelo mutters, “Get in.”
Father, did I do something to upset you? It’s really starting to feel like you have forsaken me.
“Ah…why?” I ask, fear making my voice quiver.
Angelo’s eyes flick to me, annoyance tightening his handsome features. “It’s fucking hot, Vittoria. Get in.”
I feel like whining like a puppy as I carry out his order, and when I shut the door, Big Ricky asks, “Where to, Miss Romano?”
“Ahh…the grocery store just down the road.” I glance between the back of Big Ricky’s head and Angelo, who’s back to giving the document in his hand all his attention.
This is so freaking weird.
Between the volatile situation at home and having to deal with seeing Angelo Rizzo way more than I’d like, the tension in my body is reaching breaking point.
Chapter 6
Angelo
The tension coming off Vittoria makes the air tremble.
It’s too fucking hot outside for her to be walking around in what can only be described as winter clothes.
I have a million things to tend to before the poker game tonight, but knowing Vittoria would visit Father Parisi this morning, I ordered Big Ricky to drive past the cathedral.
Having her schedule puts me in a position to watch her.
But it wasn’t my intention to drive all over town like a fucking chauffeur.
She’s my future wife, and I might as well get used to taking care of her.
Once we’re married, she’ll have a driver and guard to take her wherever she needs to go.
Unable to focus on the contract in my hand, I give up and glance at the trembling beauty beside me. I notice the flower that’s being crushed in her tight grip and mutter, “You’re killing it.”
Vittoria’s eyes fly to my face as she gasps, “I’m what?”
I gesture at her hands. “You’re killing the flower.”
Her gaze flits to her lap, then she mutters. “Shoot.” She eases her grip on the wilting carnation, then adds, “Technically, it’s already dying.”
With my eyes locked on her exquisite face, I ask, “Why are you out and about on such a hot day?”
Her gaze darts to me again. “I had errands to run.” She fidgets with the carnation, and I don’t think she’s aware of what she’s doing as she starts to pull the petals off.
“And the errands couldn’t wait?” Now, I’m just asking questions to hear the soft tone of her voice.
“Ah…” Her fingers move faster, the petals falling one by one onto her lap. “I always meet with Father Parisi on Tuesdays to give him a cooked meal and to discuss the baked goods for after Mass.”
Of course, she provides meals for the holy man.
She pauses, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips before she continues to ramble, “I stopped by Rosa’s store to tell her what kind of flower arrangement to prepare for Sunday, and now I’m going to the store to get the ingredients for the cannolis we’ll serve after Mass.” Finally, she stops talking so she can suck in a desperate breath.