Page 72 of Safe and Sound

“Good minty or bad minty.”

“Okay minty.”

Her brows creased. “So, that’s a no for the Dolmedes.”

“It’s not bad. I like the stew thing better.”

“Hmm, let’s try the Pastitsio. It’s kinda like Shepherd’s Pie except there’s sauce topping instead of potatoes.”

As I took in the bite Ava spooned me, I asked, “Since when do you know Irish food?”

Instead of chastising me for talking with my mouth full again, she replied, “My ex and I went to the UK the first summer we were married.”

“Which part of Ireland did you visit?” I motioned for more of the Pastitsio.

“Just the southern part.”

“You missed the best city in the world. Belfast.”

She smiled. “If I ever make it overseas again, I’ll make sure to go there.”

“Don’t you ever go back to Greece?”

“Nope. I’ve never been.”

“Seriously?” At her nod, I couldn’t help asking, “Why not?”

“My parents won’t go back because they’re afraid of the mafia there.”

Her comment sent me once again choking. Quickly, she thrust a glass of water at me. After downing half of it, I then wheezed, “The Greek mafia?”

“Yeah,” she replied nonchalantly.

I hadn’t gotten any type of vibe of being a made man from her father, so I couldn’t imagine what connection they would have with one of the mafia families. “Did they have some kind of altercation with the mafia?”

After taking a bite of the pastitsio, Ava chewed thoughtfully. “They’ve never come right out and said. Just whenever I asked about going back to Greece, they would say that they were afraid of organized crime.”

Glancing around, Ava then leaned closer to me. “Sometimes I wonder if their fear comes from the fact that my sister’s boyfriend was in the mafia, and maybe it had something to do with their accident.”

“Do you know his last name?”

She shook her head. “I don’t even know his first name.”

Without names to tie to a certain family, it was a dead end. Ava pushed off my lap. “Where are you going?”

“I want something sweet. Would you like baklava or loukoumades?

“I’ll go with baklava since I’ve had it before.”

“I’ll bring some loukoumades too.” With a wink, she replied, “They’re sweet honey balls.”

“Dribble some honey on my balls, and you can have them instead,” I teased.

Instead of chiding me on talking about balls within earshot of others, Ava replied. “Very tempting.”

I groaned as I watched her sashay over to where the desserts were being prepared. When she returned, she had a large slice of baklava on her plate and what must’ve been the honey balls she had mentioned earlier.

“Let me guess. You’re going to force me to eat one of the balls.”

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