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Nico nodded. He was proud of the family business. “Yes, ma’am. My papà is the fourth generation to run the bakery.”
“I love sfogliatelle. Are yours any good?”
Nico smiled at her eager interest in the pastry. “I’d stack ours up against any in the city. My sister is coming next weekend; I’ll have her bring you a sampler tin.”
Mrs. Randazzo half-heartedly attempted to decline, and Nico held back a knowing grin. He knew this game. Nonna had taught him well.
“I insist. It’s the least I can do, given how wonderfully accommodating you’ve been to Luca and me.”
“Aw.” She grabbed his cheek and pinched, and Nico smiled through the sting. “You’re a good boy.”
Luke chuckled softly, drawing the landlady’s and Nico’s attention. He had his thumb hooked under his bag straps at his shoulder, and on his lips played a soft smile. His eyes whipped away from Nico and settled on Mrs. Randazzo, who hummed with narrowed eyes.
“And you play baseball for your school.” She waved them inside, and Nico and Luke squeezed past her into a brown tiled foyer. “You ain’t no Richie Ashburn, but your stats look good.”
“Richie who?” Nico asked in Luke’s ear, not immune to the block of heat blasting him as Luke leaned toward him.
“Fuck if I know,” Luke whispered back. He cleared his throat and fixed a wide smile on Mrs. Randazzo. “I’m impressed you found that out, ma’am.”
“My granddaughter might have helped.” Her lips quirked. “She’s disappointed you two are a couple.”
Nico swung his head toward Luke, meeting equally surprised eyes. Luke frowned and palmed his nape, and Nico shifted from foot to foot. Awkward anyone? “Ah, we’re not a couple. Just friends.”
“Oh. Ohhh.” She waved them into a sitting room.
The formal furniture looked like things Nico had seen in his great-aunts’ and -uncles’ homes. The couch was covered in thick plastic, and the pair of formal wing chairs sat across from it, separated by a glass-covered coffee table. Luke started for a chair, and Nico snagged his elbow and guided him toward the couch.
Luke shot him a look, and Nico pointedly looked at the plastic-covered sofa. “We’ve been driving a while. Best not to get dirt on the nice furniture.” The plastic creaked under them.
Mrs. Randazzo used one of the chairs. “I thought he”—she gestured to Nico—“was the new boyfriend.”
“No,” Luke said quickly. Too quickly.
Nico kept the grin on his face from wobbling. “I’m overseeing the plans for my sister’s wedding. Her planner cancelled on short notice. She needed a replacement, and I needed a roof over my head, and that’s where Luke comes in.”
“I see. Your sister lives here?”
“Not yet. Her fiancé is from here and just got an offer from a big law firm. She’s moving down before the wedding.”
“You know anything about planning a wedding?” she asked skeptically. Right into their business. She definitely took a page from his nonna’s book. “Where are they having this?”
“The Union League.” He smiled as her eyebrow shot up. “And I’ve planned a few events in my time. Mostly things are settled, but I’m making sure everything stays that way.”
“You’re a good brother.” She clapped her hands together. “Well . . . the apartment only has one bedroom. Quinton and his girlfriend live together.”
Nico wasn’t sure where this talk of the last tenants was going, but his skin prickled. He glanced at Luke palming the plastic on either side of him.
“Right,” Luke said. “He told me that when I contacted him.”
“Did he tell you they recently bought a giant king-size bed that takes up most of the bedroom?” Her dark eyebrow arched.
Luke gave Nico a panicked look. “He said they had two twins that they used a bed bridge to make into a king.”
Mrs. Randazzo shook her head. “They had it delivered before they left for the summer. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I assumed you two were . . . you know.”
“Right,” Nico said. Not the best start to the summer. “No worries. We’ll figure something out.”
Luke stared at his knees, strong jaw ticking. “May we see the apartment now?
Mrs. Randazzo procured a key ring. “These two work on the apartment doors—front, and back. The small ones are for the gate next to the garage. Don’t leave that open. I don’t want any crazies camping in the back yard.”
“How do we get to the garage?” Nico asked.
“This is Pine.” She pointed to the front of the house. “There’s an alley that runs behind the house. The address is painted on the garage. I’ll open the door before you get back. Push the button by the door into the yard to close it behind you.”
“Alley behind, number on, shut when I leave. Got it.” Nico gave her a broad smile. “Shouldn’t be hard at all.”
“Don’t think so.” She reclined in her chair. “Let me know when you’re back, and I’ll give you a remote for the garage. And if you need any suggestions on where to eat or go out, let me know.”
