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“Are you almost done?”
Viv jumped at her brother’s voice just over her shoulder. Nico had been tasked with babysitting her this afternoon, and he looked about as happy about it as she felt. It was Friday night, and the kid probably wanted to be halfway to wasted with his friends instead of waiting for her to finish decorating some cupcakes for a wedding tomorrow.
“Almost. It’ll go faster if you can load those bowls into the dishwasher for me.” She gestured with her chin at the stack of bowls she’d used to color the frosting. “And fold up four cupcake boxes.”
He grumbled but obeyed, packing the bowls into the empty spaces in the basket for the industrial-sized dishwasher and then grabbing flattened bakery boxes from one of the shelves and bending them into shape.
“How’s winter training going? Feeling good about the season?”
They didn’t have much in common, but Nico had taught her a love of baseball since he’d started playing little league when he was six. He was a natural with a baseball in his hand and a hell of a third baseman. He’d set the university record for recovering the most infield hits three years in a row and made the varsity team as a high school freshman before being scouted to his college team.
“It’s good. Coach says there will probably be MLB scouts checking me out all season. But…”
She put the final mound of frosting on the last cupcake and reached for the sprinkle mix she’d chosen. “But what?”
“Papa keeps talking like he won’t even consider it. With all the Mafia shit and everything. That we can’t afford to be under the spotlight.”
“That’s ridiculous. The Callahans are in the spotlight all the time, and they seem to be doing fine.”
“The Callahans aren’t constantly trying to kill each other.”
“Highly debatable.” Viv showered the final box of cupcakes with sprinkles and sealed the lids with tape. “They argue with each other plenty.”
“You know what I mean.”
She sighed. “I know. Do you want me to talk to him?”
“Maybe?" He took the boxes of cupcakes from her hands and set them in the fridge. “He can’t say no to both of us, right?”
“Probably not. I’m very cute.”
Nico snorted, waiting for her by the door while she set the dishwasher to run and turned off all the lights. The night air carried that late autumn bite to it. Winter would be here soon, blanketing the city in snow and ice and the angry screaming of drivers who hated the plows. She liked fall best with its crisp tang to the air and brilliant colors.
She didn’t know the way to Glenmore House by heart because she’d spent most of her time there being chauffeured, so they used GPS to follow the winding roads through the Main Line until they stopped outside the gate at the bottom of the driveway. They hit the button for guests because she couldn’t remember the passcode she was supposed to use either—she’d have to write that down—and waited for the gate to swing silently in.
“Fucking hell,” Nico whistled. “This is some place you got here, sis.”
“I don’t have any place. This is where I live for now.”
“For now?”
She shrugged. “Who knows where I’ll end up.”
“Do you like living here?" he asked as he pulled around the circular drive.
“It’s nice,” she assured him. “Lots of space and plenty of people coming and going so you don’t get bored. Almost like home.”
“This is absolutely nothing like home. Which is now very lame and quiet without you.”
“Aww, Nicky,” Viv said, using his childhood nickname. “Are you saying you miss me?”
She leaned over and gave him a loud, wet kiss on his cheek, and he made a big show of wiping it off with the back of his hand.
“I’m saying you are a very loud person, and now the house is not as loud.”
“Uh huh. Do you want to come in? The housekeeper let me use the kitchen long enough to make ham and cheese scones the other day. Never mind,” she added when his eyes drifted to the clock on the dash. “Go out and have fun. But if it's drunk fun, call someone to come get you.”
“Okay, mom.”
