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)
“What?” I asked, brows pinching.
“You are going to go all ‘I owe you’ on her, and become her servant from now until eternity.”
I hadn’t even given it much thought, but, yes, absolutely.
“Which is fine. I think Matteo and Josie are getting sick of your ass anyway,” she said. “You said it was The Brunch Bar?” she asked, reaching for her phone.
“Yeah. But I imagine it won’t be open for a few days now. I think they were the only two working there.”
“That’s okay. I just want it on all the moms’ and cousins’ radars, so everyone knows to pop in if they see it is open again. But, yeah, get her flowers. If she seems like a sweets person, chocolate is never a bad idea. And socks. Soft socks. Maybe a soft blanket too. Hospitals are cold. Comfort items are a must. Do you want me to pick them up?” she asked as she texted.
“No, thanks, Smu… Sofia,” I said. “I’ll handle it.”
Normally, I would relinquish the task to someone who clearly knew more about it than I did. But, somehow, it felt important to me to be the one doing the shopping. “Oh, can you do me a favor, though?” I asked.
“Sure.”
“Figure out her last name for me, so I know who to ask for at the hospital.”
“Yeah, sure. If I’m not still here when you come down from your shower, I will leave it on a note.”
“Thanks, Sof. I appreciate it,” I told her, meaning it.
“Anytime. And if you need any more girl advice, you know where to find me.”
“Shopping for my brothers?” I asked, smirking.
“Do you have any idea how much food Dante and Santo go through?” she asked, rolling her eyes as she started to unpack my groceries.
“I can do that.”
“Shut up. It’s part of the service fee. Go get showered. You have shit to do.”
You had to appreciate how Smush handled herself.
With that, I made my way upstairs, taking a long, hot shower, feeling like I couldn’t quite wash the blood off, like it was a permanent stain on me, like it was a mark on my fucking soul.
Eventually, though, I made my way out, putting myself together, getting into a suit like I wore daily. By the time I made my way downstairs, Smush was long gone. But she’d made me a pot of coffee, and had put out a cup with a sticky note beside it.
Savannah Vanjoy.
Mom = Sunshine Vanjoy (Yes, really.)
I wasn’t even fazed by her mother’s name. Everything about her in her patchwork floor-length skirt and her beach-wavy hair and her collection of gemstone necklaces screamed hippie to me. Of course she had a name like that.
I forced down a cup of coffee before making my way out.
The florist was the first stop, even though I wasn’t going to head to the hospital until the next day. I had no idea what kind of surgery or anything like that Savannah might need, or how much pain meds they’d jack her up on. She needed to be able to rest for one day.
“Hey! What are you looking for? An anniversary bouquet?” the florist asked, her gaze moving over me.
“No, a friend of mine is in the hospital,” I told her.
“Oh, no. I’m sorry to hear that. Well, what kind of woman is your friend? Roses are always traditional, classic.”
“That’s not her,” I said, shaking my head.
“Okay. Well, peonies are always a crowd-pleaser. Very feminine and delicate.”
Feminine, yes.
Delicate?
I didn’t think so, not with the whole knocking a grown-ass man onto the floor to save him from a bullet thing.
“Don’t think that’s it, either.”
“What is she like?”
“Like the sun,” I said, surprising even myself. “She’s… bright and upbeat and friendly.”
“How about wildflowers then? Maybe with some sunflowers thrown in to really make a statement?”
“Yes,” I decided, realizing that was exactly the kind of thing Savannah would appreciate.
“Perfect. Do you want a vase?” she asked, waving toward the wall of them.
Most of them were plain glass in all different shapes and sizes. But there were a few colored options.
And when my gaze landed on the big yellow one, I knew that was it.
Reaching for it, I set it on the counter.
“That is a lovely selection. It’s been driving me nuts that no one has chosen it,” she told me as she started writing out a slip. “When do you want to pick these up?”
“Tomorrow morning. Around ten,” I said, knowing visiting hours started around then.
“Perfect. It will be ready for you, Mr… Grassi,” she said as she took my credit card to swipe.
From there, I hit the fancy boutique shop in Navesink Bank that I knew my sister Valentina—Valley—liked to shop at on occasion. She had fancy taste, so I figured everything in it would be of good quality.
I got the throw blanket and the socks, both of them being the softest fucking things I’d ever touched in my life.