Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
“You realize Dad will hunt Santino down if he finds out there’s something going on between you.”
“Shut up. What are you talking about? There’s nothing going on between us.”
“Sure. I’ll ask you again in a few months.”
“Stay out of my love life.”
“You don’t have one.”
I glared. “Well, I have every intention of changing that.”
“Good luck with that.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “As my brother, you should tell me to stay away from men. You’re not doing a good job being the overprotective Made Man.”
“I’ll protect you from real dangers, don’t worry, but I sure as fuck won’t protect your hymen, sis.”
I grimaced. “Do me a favor and never say that word again.”
“I’m having fun, so why shouldn’t you? Clifford isn’t waiting for marriage either.”
“You know most people in the Outfit won’t see it that way. If they find out, I lost it to anyone but my husband there’ll be a scandal.”
“I’ll make sure to cause an even bigger scandal to distract them from you.”
I laughed. “I’m sure you’d succeed.”
The following weeks and months passed in a blink, and before I knew it, I’d attended my last two social events in January, Dad’s and Danilo’s birthdays. Wistfulness caught me by surprise when I closed my suitcase one day before I’d leave for Paris. This was it. Tomorrow I’d leave Chicago and my family behind for months, possibly years. If all went to plan, I’d be gone for three years.
My stomach flipped with nerves.
I’d never been separated from my family for that long. A weekend in our lake house had been the extent of it. Suddenly, I was terrified. I was used to having a tight-knit family and always someone to talk to. In the future, I’d have to pick up a phone, and that meant being careful what I said because you never knew who was listening. I swallowed. Of course, there would be Santino… but he and I weren’t really on speaking terms right now. I had every intention to change that in Paris, but I wasn’t sure if our relationship would ever reach a level that would make me feel comfortable sharing problems with him.
A soft knock rang out.
“Come in,” I called but nothing happened. Instead another soft knock sounded. I got up and went over to the door. I found Bea’s little face looking up at me when I opened the door. She held her favorite stuffed animal in her arms, a pink pig called Peppa. I’d watched too many episodes of the series with her to feel the same joy seeing the well-loved toy as Bea did.
“Can I come in?” Bea asked with a sweet smile. I opened the door wide. “Of course.”
Bea tiptoed in almost shyly, regarding my suitcases warily. She bit her lower lip, clutching Peppa Pig even closer.
“Is everything all right?” I asked, getting down on my haunches in front of my little sister.
“I don’t want you to go. I’ll miss you too much.”
Tears sprang into my eyes. I hugged her tightly. When I’d made plans to go to Paris, I hadn’t thought about what that would mean for Bea. She was only five. I’d miss so much of her growing up while I was gone. I pulled back and pushed her blonde hair out of her eyes. “I’ll come visit often. And maybe you can visit me in Paris as well. Then we can go to the Eiffel Tower and have hot chocolate in one of the artsy cafés near Montmartre.”
“What’s that?”
“A beautiful part of Paris up on a hill. You’ll love it.”
She nodded gravely, then held out her pig. “This is for you.”
I took it. “For me?”
“So you’ll remember me in Paris.”
“But it’s your favorite.”
She nodded again, looking even more serious. “I want you to have it so you won’t forget me.”
“Bea, I could never forget you. I’ll call often and I’ll send you pretty clothes so we can match even if we’re not in the same city.”
She beamed up at me. “Will you come back for my birthday?”
“I’ll come back even before that. I have a long list of events I’m still supposed to attend, so you’ll see me very often.”
“Okay,” she said, sounding slightly mollified. “Can we watch Peppa Pig together?”
It was almost seven-thirty, Bea’s bedtime, but I agreed anyway. We settled on the bed together, Bea snuggled up against my side. I opened an episode of Peppa Pig on my iPad. We had already watched it a while ago, but I doubted there was a single episode we hadn’t watched at least twice. Mom poked her head in a few minutes later, probably wanting to bring Bea to bed.
My little sister had fallen asleep beside me.
Mom smiled, her eyes glistening.
“Don’t get emotional,” I whispered.
She smiled apologetically as she crept closer to us and perched on the edge of the bed. “I’ll bring her to her room.”