The Woman in the Wrong Place (Grassi Framily)

“No,” Smush said, drawing my attention. “That has been taken care of as well,” she said, chin jerking up in a way that made it clear who had taken care of it.

“Sof…”

“We do whatever it takes to protect Family. Always,” she said, nodding. “By the way, Josie, your dish was banging. We’ve been picking at it. It got a little crispy at the edges, but there was a lot going on tonight.”

“I brought some food,” Aunt Adrian said, pulling Josie into the kitchen. “I know your throat must not feel great now, but I did bring some homemade gelato for you if you want something soothing.”

“You make your own gelato?” Josie asked, a mix of impressed and incredulous.

“Of course I do!”

“She takes orders for custom gelato requests, too,” Smush said. “I get French vanilla with chocolate hazelnut Pirouette mixed in. It’s the best.”

“That sounds good,” Josie admitted as she let herself be pushed onto one of the kitchen stools.

I wanted to get her to bed, but I knew better than to try to get in the way of the fussing the women wanted to give Josie.

So I went ahead and boiled some water for Josie as I made coffee for myself.

“No, you have to think bigger,” Smush insisted a minute later as they discussed gelato additives. “Not just mint. But Thin Mint Girl Scout cookies.”

“Oh, that sounds really good,” Josie admitted.

“It’s done. I will get the cookies tomorrow,” Aunt Adrian said.

“What? No. No, that’s not necessary.”

“Necessary,” Aunt Adrian scoffed, absentmindedly wiping the island counter. “I want to. It’s done. We take care of family here,” she added, waving a hand like it was a done deal. Which, in her mind, it was.

“Here, baby,” I said, passing Josie the tea.

“Did you put honey in it?” Smush asked.

“You have to put honey in it,” Aunt Adrian insisted, waving an arm out like I’d lost my damn mind for not knowing that. “It’s soothing,” she added, patting my cheek, then going to get the honey herself.

“You don’t need to fuss over—“ Josie started, then cut off and jerked upright when the front door opened.

It was going to be a while before she didn’t jump at shadows and sudden sounds. I hated that, but I knew there was nothing I could do but be there for her, and assure her that she was safe.

But my gaze followed hers to the door where a towering man was standing.

You could see the family resemblance immediately.

Tall, fit, dark-haired, great bone structure, and a really distinctive gray-blue shade to his eyes.

One of Massimo’s many brothers.

Nino.

The oldest.

“You’re Josie?” he asked, pointing at her as he said it. I wasn’t surprised at the way she stiffened at his rough, gravel-filled voice. She didn’t know him well enough to know he wasn’t being gruff, that was just how he always sounded.

“I… ah… yeah?” she said, looking over at me, and I managed to give her a nod before Nino was moving across the space in a couple long-legged strides, dropping down into a squat in front of her, putting him in the position of looking up at her as he took both of her hands in his.

“I owe you,” he said, voice fierce, meaning it from the depths of his soul

“I..”

“This is Massimo’s older brother,” Smush explained. “Nino.”

“Oh!” Josie said, brightening. “Is he okay? I heard he was okay. But is he doing better?”

“He is. He’s awake and a pain in my fucking ass. Thanks to you,” Nino said, giving her hands a squeeze.

“No, really. I didn’t…”

“That fucker was going to shoot my brother when he was down,” Nino cut her off. “The way I hear it, you must have gone at him with a frying pan to stop him.”

“I couldn’t just let him kill Massimo,” Josie insisted.

“You could,” Nino said, shrugging. “You could have. Self-preservation would have made you stay hidden, protect yourself. But you didn’t do that. You saved my brother. And I am forever grateful to you for that. I owe you. Anytime you need anything, you call me, okay? Anything. Money, help moving, air in your fucking tires, you call me. Shit. What’d I do?” Nino asked, casting helpless eyes at me when Josie just burst out crying, body shaking and all.

“No. No. I’m sorry,” Josie said between sobs. “I just love this family so much,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m just so glad you are so nice to me,” she added, pulling her hands from Nino’s to press into her face, embarrassed at her outburst.

“That’s family,” Nino insisted, getting to his feet, wrapping an arm around her upper back and pulling her in for a side hug. “Even when we hate you, we love you. Get used to it.”

That made a laugh bubble up and burst out of Josie, a woman who never really got to experience anything like that. Her mother’s love, if it even existed, was highly conditional. Josie had no idea what it meant to be loved unconditionally.