Page 107 of Made in Love and Blood

“Everybody knows the plan, boss man,” Larkin replied.

“And the caterer is finishing up now setting the tables,” Sissy added.

The ones in the back stayed silent.

“There,” Carina stated, smiling brilliantly as she stepped back from Frankie. “You are not wearing it at the front. Why are you trying to hide that body, baby? Look at you.”

Salvatore cleared his throat and jerked his head toward the group. “Okay, get lost. Thank you, everybody. Regroup at the end, all right?”

Nods answered back.

Larkin lagged to say, “Nico’s a minute or so out, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

Another last-minute detail to handle.

“I’m not trying to hide it,” Frankie muttered after the kitchen emptied out, “but it hung a little looser when you first had me try it on.”

“Yeah, months ago. When you were ten or more pounds under weight and probably weren’t even getting your period given how hard you were exercising on top of soccer,” Carina replied, although not meanly.

“You don’t know that I wasn’t getting my period.”

“Were you?” Carina demanded.

Frankie didn’t answer.

“Are you now?” Carina questioned further.

At that one, Frankie admitted, “Not yet.”

Salvatore found Carina’s stare but said nothing. This had happened before, between the two of them dealing with their respective eating disorders. He’d been at the doctor appointments. It would come back, but their bodies kept the score. It took time.

Salvatore pretended like a button had come undone on his jacket, needing an out for this conversation as quickly as possible.

Where was Nico again?

“Well, it’ll be back soon enough,” Carina assured.

“Exactly, but not yet,” Frankie said. “And I already weigh—”

“You look beautiful,” Salvatore told his daughter.

On that, he would step in.

“Amazing, both of you.” Carina winked his way, but he kept his eyes on his daughter, adding, “And you’re to let me know if the cycle thing holds out for too long.”

“Please, don’t. Not today. I know, Daddy.”

He let it go because someone else came into the room.

In an all-black suit, including his shoes, vest, shirt, and tie, Nico strolled across the kitchen without as much as a hello to anyone. He beelined it for the only person who was already heading his way, too.

“Shit, look at you,” he told Sal’s daughter, arms outstretched to hold her. She let him, easily, like breathing. “You can wear anything, incredible.”

“I told you,” Carina said to no one in particular.

Again, Sal looked to Carina.