Page 118 of The Angel


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“Oh, no! They’re moving you?—”

“I’m not going to some stinking house for the elderly!”

“I didn’t know this until recently, but wow, you’re so Sicilian.”

That, at least, made him shut up. “Huh?”

“They’re not throwing you out, Currau.” I clucked my tongue. “They’re bringing you to one of their homes and I’m going to head up the team of nurses who care for you.”

He gaped at me. Then, holy cheeseballs, wetness appeared in his eyes. When he sniffled and swiped at said wetness, I bowed my head and took a lot of interest in my lap.

“Really?” he eventually croaked once he’d regained his composure.

“Really.” Blindly, I squeezed his knotted fingers with my own. “Stan sent me?—”

“Stan, ehm?”

I rolled my eyes. “You gonna bring that up now when you’re about to go home?”

His smug smile was answer enough—wow, who knew that look would be inheritable. “I told you he’d be better for you than those finance morons.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“How did you meet?”

“The ambulance is coming?—”

“I don’t care about that,” he scoffed. “Come on. Tell me how right I was.”

“He’s insane.”

He pshawed. “Aren’t we all?”

“He’s built like a wall?—”

“Allora,in my day, that meant he was good for climbing?—”

“Currau!”

His eyes, thankfully lacking tears, twinkled. “What?!”

We shared a smirk.

“It’s… The feelings I have for him are crazy.”

He dismissed that with a distinctly European shrug. “Feelings are supposed to be crazy or where’d the fun be?”

“You have a point.”

“When you get to my age, you’re all points or dulled edges.” He patted his legs. “It’s either the brain or the body that goes first, but I’m glad to know my brain still works. Maybe I should start a matchmaking agency. There’s life in this old dog yet.”

“You barely know him,” I accused.

“Of course I do. He doesn’t know me. He wasn’t the one who barely talked.”

I cleared my throat. “Did he talk about…”

When I didn’t finish the question, Currau patted my hand. “Yes. He did. You’ve no fear there, Kitty. That girl was his sister. Dumb fool world we live in where a man can only think of a woman as family if he’s schtupping her.”