Page 68 of Angel
He pushed open the gate halfway up the walkway. Taking a breath, I mustered up enough courage to follow.
Before he had a chance to touch the front door it flew open. A pretty haired woman in her fifties or sixties smiled up at him.
“My sweet boy!” she cooed.
Angelo bent to kiss both her checks. “Mariel, how are you?”
“So good,” she gushed, her eyes flicking over his shoulder. “You have two girlfriends, huh?”
My cheeks heated up. Angelo and Sophia just laughed.
“I’m just joking honey,” Mariel told me, stepping forward to pat my shoulder.
She was nice, but her apology put me on the spot even more. “It’s all right,” I mumbled.
“Holy Moly,” she declared, taking two of Sophia’s bags. “Let’s get you inside. Angelo, your mother and father are in the great room.”
“Thanks Mariel.”
Sophia strode across the threshold, already confident in her new surroundings. I went a little slower. As I passed Angelo he put his hand against the small of my back. The touch helped me breathe easier, helped me realize there truly wasn’t anything to be worried about.
The foyer, wide and airy, went up to the second floor. A winding staircase matched the iron gates outside. Four large, arched doorways went off from the spot we stood, giving away little sneak peaks of the rest of the house.
Mariel smiled at me. “Just leave your suitcase here. I will put everything away.”
I released my tight grip and followed Angelo and Soph through one of the doorways and down a wide hall. More doors opened into various rooms. A library. Something that looked like a mini movie theater. At the end of the hall several steps took us down into what had to be the great room.
With one wall covered in windows overlooking the side yard, comfortably arranged furniture took up the rest of the space. Fire crackled in a large fireplace, stockings lining up its mantel.
“Here they are!” boomed a familiar voice. Angelo's father rose from one of the armchairs and came forward to kiss all three of us.
“How are you Mr. Salvatore?” I asked as he released me.
He cocked his head and playfully narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have to call me that. You know that.”
“Okay,” I said, just to appease him.
“This place rocks, Pops,” Sophia chirped, using the name Angelo did for his father.
Mr. Salvatore chuckled and pinched her cheek. “You girls look so beautiful. Even with all that bad city air. How can that be?”
“Good Italian genes, I guess,” she replied.
I nodded, wishing I had just an ounce of Sophia’s charisma.
When Angelo wrapped his arm around me I felt infinitely better. His touch had a way of working magic no matter what the circumstances.
“Angelo!”
We all looked around. Mrs. Salvatore hurried through the doorway. With her white turtle neck, tight jeans, and high heel boots, she gave any supermodel a run for her money. It was impossible to tell just how old she was, what with her face nearly free of wrinkles. I’d been with her out in public before and watched as men as young as eighteen stopped what they were doing to ogle as she passed by.
“Mom,” Angelo grinned.
She gave him a quick hug and then wrapped both me and Sophia up at the same time. Sandwiched between the two of them, a little bit of tension left me.
I didn’t know why I’d been nervous. Mr. and Mrs. Salvatore were amazing.
Just as she released us, a stampede of feet echoed in the hall. Into the great room came Dominic, Franko, and Tre.
