Page 48 of Kiss Away Your Pain (Wounded Hearts 2)

At five twenty-eight, there’s a knock on my door. I smile inside and open the door.

“Hi. Did I give you enough time? I told Anastasia I’d let her know if you needed more time.”

“Nope. I’m good.”

We go down to his Jeep, he opens my door, and then we’re off.

“Thank you for being flexible. This came out of the blue.”

“Of course, no problem. I know the business. It can be demanding.”

“Yeah, I worked my ass off to get it straightened out. My client changed their mind and I had to scramble through pictures and make some adjustments in order to fulfill what they wanted. It was tight, but I managed to get it done and be on time for you.”

“Aw, I feel bad. We could’ve canceled with my sister. That must’ve felt like a lot of pressure.”

“Nah. I’m used to it. Besides, I’m looking forward to tonight.”

“Yeah? It’s not too much, dinner with my sister?”

“Not at all. Now I’ll get some real scoop on you.” I raise my eyebrows and grin.

“Why do I suddenly feel nervous?” He laughs that husky laugh of his.

We arrive at his sister’s house and he hands a bottle of red wine to Gino as Anastasia wraps her arms around me in a hug like we’ve been friends for years.

“Hi. Welcome. Come on in,” she says brightly.

As I step further into their home, the air entering my nostrils is coated in butter, garlic, and parmesan cheese. My stomach starts preparing for what smells like a delicious meal. The décor is shabby chic which suits her personality.

“Enzo said you got some last-minute work plopped in your lap. Did you get it all done?” she asks, leading us toward the kitchen.

“I did. I wasn’t expecting it, but it’s also not unusual in my line of work. Thankfully it doesn’t happen too frequently to me. But when it does, I jump on it. I’ve built myself a solid reputation and I work hard to keep it that way. I never want my clients disappointed.”

“So, you’re available to them all the time? You don’t take any time for yourself?” she asks, getting dinner plates out of the cabinets.

“I haven’t had much in my life other than work for quite a while.” I glance over at Enzo. “I could probably set better boundaries, like on weekends. I just love my work.”

“It’s important to love what you do.” She smiles and gets out four wine glasses.

Gino opens the wine and pours it into the four glasses.

“What do you do?” I ask her.

“I’m a teacher.” She beams. “I teach third-grade math and I have the best students.” She sips her wine. “Are you guys hungry? I made spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread.”

“My stomach’s been ready since we walked in and I took a whiff,” I say.

“Here, grab a plate and load up what you want. I’ll put the bread on the table.” She hands each of us a plate and puts the garlic bread on the natural-wood top of the dining table.

Enzo extends his arm for me to go first. Using the pasta fork, I scoop out my spaghetti from the bowl and take a few meatballs. Then I sprinkle on some grated parmesan cheese from the vintage-looking silver bowl and spoon set and head to the table.

“Sit anywhere,” Gino says.

I pull out a chippy, light blue chalk-painted chair and wait for them. Enzo’s not far behind me and takes the seat next to me at the round table. Anastasia and Gino join us and Gino goes back to the kitchen, returning with another bottle of wine.

“I like your parmesan dish. My mom loved vintage things,” I say.

“Thank you. It was our grandmother’s. She was an amazing cook,” Anastasia says with a reminiscent smile.

---