Page 49 of Little Dove

“I’m sure I can handle you,dolcezza. I would put you in, what did you call it? Air jail. Yes, air jail.” He looks so pleased with himself that he’s remembered, that I can’t help but smile.

“Air jail doesn’t always work, and that would only piss me off more,” I warn him.

“Lucky for both of us, you’re adorable when you’re pissed.”

“I am not. I’m fearsome, and you should avoid pissing me off,” I sniff. Why is it that men always say women are ‘cute’ when they are pissed off? I heard a few women talking about that one night outside the salon, and I didn’t get it then, either. You’d think men would understand that pissed-off women are creative, no matter their size. And the bigger they are, the harder they fall.

He laughs outright. “You keep telling yourself that,dolcezza.”

“You would think he would listen, wouldn’t you, darling?” a feminine voice says, drawing my attention. I turn to see a strikingly beautiful woman walking in from a side door with a smile on her face, and I instantly know that this is Lazaro’s sister. “Especially considering all the times I made him hurt for that same reason. Mostly when we were growing up, but there are recent times when he stuck his nose in where it didn’t belong.”

“I’m going to pay you back for that,” Lazaro warns with a scowl.

Sofia dismisses that idea with a wave. Watching her, I try not to squirm in my seat. God, she really is beautiful, and even with these fancy clothes on, I feel frumpy in comparison. She has some of her father and brothers’ height; I put her at about five-ten, and despite her hair being up in a tousled bun, I can tell that it’s thick, lush, and the same dark brown-black color as Lazaro’s. Her eyes are dark like Lazaro’s too, though her face must be her mother’s because that’s where the similarities to her brother end. She’s wearing a simple pair of black pants that hug her curves and a white blouse with pearl buttons that show off her slim shoulders and full breasts.

She doesn’t look anything like a housekeeper, in my mind. This is a woman who is used to running things, and if shedecides she doesn’t like me, I’m going to have a much harder time here than with Gia or Sienna. I swallow down my nerves when she comes to a stop at the table between Lazaro and I.

“He thinks that because Papa isn’t here, he can get away with that,” she tells me with a conspiratorial wink. “But he knows that if he even dares to try, he’s going to end up on his ass or with something sharp sticking out of some vital part of him.”

I blink at that. “You’d stab him?” I blurt out, shocked. Wait, wouldn’t that get her into trouble? Brother or not, he’s the Underboss’s bodyguard, which I have to imagine is a prestigious position.

“Darling, I already have,” she laughs. “If there’s no knife available, I chuck things at their heads when they start to get too bossy. You’ll figure out soon enough that none of us are the type to back down from the other. And now that you’re here, and this one has decided to stick to you like glue, that extends to you. So if he pisses you off, just find something heavy or sharp and give it a throw. He’ll learn.”

“Sofia,” Lazaro says warningly, glaring at her.

Sofia ignores him and holds out her hand to me. “Sofia Cattaneo. I’m sorry I haven’t gotten to meet you until now, darling. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind getting this place back into shape from while I was gone. I go away for a few weeks, and the place falls apart.”

I take her hand and quickly shake it. “Amara Stanley. It’s nice to meet you, and it’s not a problem. I know you’re busy.”

“Speaking of which, I have a few complaints to make about the service,” Lazaro quips, then hisses from between clenched teeth when Sofia slaps him upside the head with barely a glance. My eyes are wide as saucers, and I’m trying to figure out what the hell is going to happen now. Is Lazaro going to lose his temper?

“He thinks he’s funny, when we both know he has nothing to complain about,” Sofia tells me mildly. “He’s just trying to piss me off.” She glances at our empty plates and smiles. “I see you liked the lasagna and rolls?”

“They were delicious. Please thank the chef for me.”

She winks at me. “You already did. It’s our mother’s recipe and a favorite. Even with this whole lot being a pain in my ass, a dish from home will help make things easier for them.” Another reason this woman is going to be tough to measure up to. She surprises me when she adds, “I’ll give you the recipe.”

“Oh no, I’m not a good cook,” I rush out. “Honestly. I haven’t had a lot of practice and there’s no way I could disgrace your mother’s recipe.”

Sofia waves that away. “I’ll teach you, don’t worry. And I’ve messed it up plenty, so there’s no worry there.”

“One time, it was nothing but mush.” Lazaro snickers. “Papa made us eat every last bite, but even he struggled. After that, he wouldn’t let her cook for a good month.”

Sofia shrugs. “I learned, and I did enjoy watching you struggle.” She grins.

“Pretty sure I was sick for like a week after,” Lazaro mutters. Sofia ignores him, but I know she heard, if the annoyance in her eyes is anything to go by.

“So I hear you’re opening a salon,” Sofia remarks to me, abandoning the subject of her previous cooking fail. She grins. “I hope you have some space for me because I really need to chop off a few inches, and I’d like to reshape it too. Spice it up.”

“I can do that. I think the others all want their hair done too, so I’ll make sure you guys get priority over the men. Men’s cuts are much easier and faster anyway. Are you?—”

“What do you mean, ‘over the men’?” Lazaro demands, interrupting me. “You’re going to be working on other men?”

I blink at him in surprise, and Sofia’s lips widen into a wicked grin. “I don’t know how to make that sentence any clearer,” I tell him drily. “Of course, I’m going to offer haircuts to the men. It’s stupid for them to create a space for me, only to use it on a few people and leave it empty the rest of the time. Did you hit your head this afternoon? Or is the New York City smog a little much for you up there?”

Sofia snorts out a laugh. “Oh, darling, yes, I’m going to like you immensely,” she beams, patting my shoulder.

Lazaro’s face is thunderous as he stares at me. It’s such an abrupt change that I’m not sure how to react. I’m not scared of him, but I’m also not sure what part of my statement he’s upset about. Is he really that upset that I’m going to be running my business here? That’s stupid, especially considering I told him I don’t want to sit around and do nothing. “No,” Lazaro grits out between clenched teeth. “I forbid it.”

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