Page 4 of Code Name: Dante

“Don’t rush on my account,” Pershing called back, his voice warm with affection. “Take all the time you need.”

I caught Alice’s smile in the mirror and quickly looked away. That kind of love seemed like something from another world—one I’d given up on when I moved back to Gloversville. Taking care of Gram and running her little coffee shop didn’t leave time for romance, which was fine by me.

I helped her into a simpler but colorful floral dress, one that would let her dance without worrying about stepping on her train. The fabric whispered against her skin as I zipped it up, reminding me of how Alessandro’s voice had lowered when he’d asked me to call him Dante.

Over Alice’s shoulder, I caught my reflection in the antique mirror. The bridesmaid’s dress was beautiful, but I felt like I was playing dress-up. Give me my jeans and a T-shirt any day, and I’d be perfectly comfortable.

“You’re overthinking it,” Alice said softly, reading my expression.

“I’m thinking exactly the right amount,” I countered, smoothing an invisible wrinkle from my dress. “And today, of all days, someone should be.” I winked.

“You look gorgeous. No wonder Alessandro can’t take his eyes off you.”

“Stop.” My voice was harsher than I’d intended, but the woman was being relentless. “You know what Gram would say if she knew a Castellano was even looking my way. She still blames them for everything that happened to her family.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but I did first. “I mean it, Alice. I’m happy for you and Pershing, and I’m honored to be part of your day. But I don’t need you playing matchmaker.”

“I’m not. I’m just stating facts.” She adjusted one of her crystals on the dresser. “The same way it’s a fact that Alessandro will be working with K19 now—as time permits, given his brother’s trial at least. And when he can, he’ll be helping build cases against corrupt officials. I’ll also never forget how he risked his life to protect me and Pershing.” Her eyes met mine in the mirror. “He’s looking out for you too, Lark.”

“What do you mean?”

“K19 operatives have been keeping an eye on your grandmother’s house and her coffee shop.”

I whirled around. “Say what?”

“It’s just a precaution,” she added quickly, but I was already pacing the room. I couldn’t believe this.

“There are still threats of retaliation. Alessandro wanted to make sure you were protected. Since you’re my best friend and all.” She winked.

“And you didn’t think to tell me this before?” My hands clenched into fists. “How long have strange men been watching my house? Watching Gram? God, Alice, I’ve told you how she gets about strangers since her memory started slipping.” Again, my voice came out sharper than I meant it to. “I don’t need his protection. And I definitely don’t need a mobster thinking he has any right to involve himself in my life.”

“Former mobster,” Alice corrected gently. “Who was never really one, to begin with.”

“A distinction that won’t matter to Gram if she spots unfamiliar men watching the house,” I said.

For the second time, I thought of my grandmother’s stories and about what the mob had done to our family decades ago. The protection rackets, the threats, how they’d driven my great-grandfather’s business into the ground. “They burned down our factory,” I said quietly. “Did you know that? Generations of craftsmanship gone in one night because we wouldn’t pay them off. Gram was just a little girl, but she still remembers the smoke and the sirens. The firefighters couldn’t save anything but the sign my great-great-grandfather had hand-carved when he first opened the place,” I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. “Not the machines or the patterns. All that history, up in smoke because some mob boss decided to make an example of him.”

Now, generations later, another Castellano thought he could insert himself into our lives? No way I’d let that happen.

“I should head back to Gloversville,” I said, changing the subject. “Gram is probably beside herself.”

“She’ll be fine with Mrs. Swenson. You know how they get wrapped up in their stories together.” Alice’s attempt at lightness fell flat. “Plus, you’re staying here tonight, remember? We already arranged for her to stay with your grandmother.” She grabbed my hands. “Please don’t let this spoil today.”

Guilt flooded me. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” I squeezed her hands. “This is your day. I’m just being paranoid.”

“You’re being protective. Of your heart as much as your grandmother.” She hugged me. “But sometimes, the best things in life come from taking chances on people.”

“Like you did with Pershing?”

“Exactly.” She pulled back and grinned. “Now, come on. I believe you promised to teach everyone how to make proper Matcha at the reception.”

I groaned. “Who wants to learn how to make tea at a wedding reception?” I added an eye roll for effect. “Why did I agree to that again?”

“Because you love me. And because, deep down, you’re curious about a certain Italian who specifically requested to learn.”

“Alice…”

“I’m just saying the way to a barista’s heart might be through her tea ceremony.”

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