Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
I smirked as I gave her a kiss on each cheek. “You know he does it out of love.”
Her gold bangles rattled as she gave my arm a squeeze. “Where is the bar? I need a drink.”
I crossed to the black marble-topped bar at the other end of the deck lounge and reached for the sterling silver cocktail shaker. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, but what the fuck are you doing here?”
After slipping her silk scarf, on point with its gold anchors floating on nautical navy blue, from around her throat, she gestured to the liquor bottles. “Vodka, dear. I never drink gin after noon. Make me a dirty martini. You know how I like it. Seriously shaken and absolutely filthy.”
I hid a smile as I reached for the Belvedere bottle. We all knew how Aunt Gabbie preferred her cocktails. It was one of the first things she taught me and my cousins the moment we were old enough to be trusted not to drop the glass liquor bottles.
As I shook the cocktail shaker, I repeated. “Aunt Gabbie? Why are you here?”
Before she could respond, Dr. Pantona came huffing up the deck stairs. He took a barstool, reaching into his linen blazer for a handkerchief and mopping his brow while he glared at Gabriella. “You could have waited for me!”
She patted his hand. “My apologies, darling. I was eager to see my nephew.”
Strictly speaking, I was her nephew-in-law. Typically, the sister of an uncle’s dead wife didn’t have a close relationship with the extended family, but that was not the case with Aunt Gabbie.
I placed the dirty martini in front of her with a clink, then nodded at the good doctor. “What’s your poison?”
It seemed playing bartender was the only way I was going to get answers.
Dr. Pantona stuffed his handkerchief in his blazer front pocket and said, “I’ll take a Tarocco Spritz.”
I leaned on the bar top. “Do I look like I have blood orange juice behind here?”
A light flick of her wrist sent Aunt Gabbie's bracelets jangling as she reached for her cocktail. “He’ll take an Amarena Spritz instead.”
Dr. Pantona frowned. “What is in that?”
She raised her martini glass to her lips and paused. “You’ll like it. It’s not a proper drink. It has cherries in it.”
After measuring the balsamic vinegar and spiking the brandied cherries on a cocktail pick, I measured out the Carpano Bianco and Punt E Mes. I tossed them both over ice and finished with prosecco and soda water before sliding the glass in front of him.
I then refreshed my simple drink of ridiculously expensive whiskey and followed them to the lounge chairs overlooking Palermo's harbor.
Before I could sit, Alfonso appeared.
“For fuck's sake, Aunt Gabbie! How many more do you have in your entourage?”
Aunt Gabbie pressed her hand to her chest. “It’s not my fault! He insisted!”
Alfonso headed straight to the bar and grabbed himself a beer. Twisting off the top, he tossed it in the trash can as he took a swig before smiling. “I did. She wasn’t going anywhere near this place without me.”
Aunt Gabbie rolled her eyes again. “Stuff and nonsense, Palermo is perfectly safe… now. It’s not the eighties anymore.” She swept her arm over the harbor. “There are pasty tourists walking all about.”
I hooked my foot around the leg of the nearest lounger and pulled it closer to her before sitting on the end. “Aunt Gabbie, I need you to listen closely. Sicily is not safe for you right now.”
She patted my cheek. “Darling, I’m a rich and beautiful woman. Everywhere is safe for me.”
Alfonso choked on the sip of beer he had been taking when she spoke. While I rolled my neck to ease the tension from the fast-moving migraine her incredibly naïve words were causing.
I tried again. “Our family is in a very dangerous position between two powerful factions of the Agnello syndicate. If Dante doesn’t hold on to his power, there is a risk of retaliation against us for Salvatore's assassination.”
She pinched the metal cocktail pick between her fingers and tapped it against the rim of her glass before pulling the plump olive off it with her teeth. “And what has that to do with me? I’m a De Luca, if you recall.”
She may not share our name, but she was a Cavalieri through and through and the de facto matriarch of our unruly clan.
“Nice try.”
She shrugged. “I had to come and save you from a terrible mistake.”
The burn from the swallow of whiskey I took was not enough to deal with this. “The only way Dante stays in power is with Antonius’s support, and we don’t get that without this… favor.”
“Favor? Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?”
“Aunt Gabbie…”
“Fine. If you are determined to ruin your life, the least you can do is make sure it’s a long one.”