Page 51 of Soulmate of the Mafia King
“I love you, too,” he replied.
CHAPTER 39
TOMMASO
Barely a week had passed before Paige gave the news to her staff at the shelter, hired a handful of new staff, and was ready to begin moving women into the redone Mansion. I’d barely seen her in the flurry of activity, other than when she dropped into bed next to me at night, but every time I’d seen her, she wore a wide smile. I pulled up the driveway of the new shelter in between meetings and grinned. The blue had actually been Mel’s idea, inspired by the other house’s colors, and it was a stroke of genius. In one step, it took the imposing old house from the place that held an auction every year to somewhere people could go to feel safe.
The banner I’d come up with at the last minute had disappeared from over the door. I wasn’t surprised. Writing with a paintbrush turned out to be a lot harder than a pen, and I’d used a random drop cloth as a base. Paige probably wanted something a little more professional. I climbed out of the car and headed up the stairs. The front door stood open, and Paige was in the eye of a storm of activity inside, holding a clipboard and spinning back and forth in the circular desk. I sidled through the bevy of women running this way and that and waited my turn.
“No, I know that bedroom is already set up, but I think we need a space for women with children,” Paige said to one of the army of volunteers Sera’s mom had showed up with. “Pull out two of the beds, put them in storage, and order a couple cribs that can change into toddler beds.” She bit the end of her pen. “And extra toddler beds. And kid beds. We don’t want to limit them.”
“Get a dozen of each,” I said with a smile.
Paige whipped around, and I’d like to imagine her smile grew, but in truth, it was already so wide that I was probably just imagining things. The volunteer nodded and walked away as Paige spun over to me and pressed a kiss to my lips.
“What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t get away,” she said.
“I found a few minutes.” I smiled at her. “I couldn’t resist seeing behind the scenes of Raphael’s Angel Haven Two’s grand opening.”
She shook her head. “That’s a terrible name.”
“I agree, the north one was better.” I leaned against the counter. “Or you could call it Riccardo Marino’s Angel Haven, really make that old fucker spin in his grave.”
She pushed my elbows off the counter. “I’m not calling it any of those.”
“Oh yeah?” I circled around as she tried to spin away from me. “Does that mean you have a name in mind?”
Caterina bustled up to the desk. “Sorry, dear, I know you’re organizing this circus, but we’re having a real problem in the second kitchen.”
Paige instantly abandoned me. “What’s up?”
“Your chef, Andi, insisted we needed some shelving in the kitchen itself, not just in the pantry.” She shook her head. “For spices or something. And as much as all these women mean the absolute best in the world, they’ve hung the damned thingcrooked three times, and if I had to pull another nail, I’m going to lose my mind.”
“I can hang it.” I flexed dramatically. “These muscles have to be useful for something.”
Paige chuckled. “Tom and I will handle it. They’re working on organization in the library group room. You want to go help?”
“Yes, I do.” Caterina patted Paige’s hand. “You’re a good woman.”
Paige laid her clipboard down and stood as Sera’s mom hustled away.
“Are you sure this place can run without you?” I asked.
“No.” She smiled. “But I really don’t want to see Caterina lose it.”
“Smart.” I escorted her toward the kitchen. “So, that name?”
Paige looked around at the chaos of women. “I was thinking I’d call this one Natalia’s, after Mom. It’s only fair.”
I grinned. “She’ll love that. Are you going to invite her to the grand opening?”
She laughed. “If I can actually separate her from Fred. Those two haven’t gone anywhere without each other since they left France, and I think between you and Killian, we’ve already hit our scary-mafia-man quotient for opening a women’s shelter.”
I laughed with her. “So she’s good, then?”
Paige nodded. “I told her I was going to start tallying how many times she said ‘Fred’ in our weekly calls, and she said that was fine if she got to do the same with your name.”
We arrived in the kitchen to see the scattered remains of an industrial spice shelf. Paige shook her head.
