Her father slung an arm around her shoulders, pulled her close. “You ready to go home?”

Home. Where was that? Angie didn’t know anymore. “Yeah.” She took one last look at Sasha’s rendition of Sal’s Market. The miniatures she’d created had been on display for the town to see but now it was time to pack them up and ship them off to the owner. Miriam had the address, one that was not to be shared according to the agreement with the New York eccentric. Fine, New York could keep his or her identity secret, but Angie wasn’t leaving her work behind until she made sure it was bubble-wrapped, taped, and secured. She’d ship the unfinished projects to her shop where she would work on them without Sasha’s companionship or Nate Desantro’s comments and Cash Casherdon’s wisecracks...and she would miss all of them.

It was time to leave Magdalena but before she did, she had to confess the truth to the town: Roman wasn’t the one responsible for their breakup—she was. Roman Ventori was an honorable man who shouldered the blame when it was not his to bear. That’s what needed said and Angie planned to say it, starting at the top with the Godfather of Magdalena who would make sure the truth filtered through the rest of the town. Once she talked to Pop, she’d finish packing the miniatures, say her good-byes, and leave the town and the man that had changed her life.

Chapter 4

The Future Godfather

A Family Affair: The Wish

Bonus Scene

“Harry, when I’m gone, I want you to take over as the Godfather of Magdalena.”

“Stop talking like that. You aren’t going anywhere.”

Pop’s lips curved into the slightest smile. “One day I’ll join my Lucy.”

He didn’t sound sad about it at all; actually, if Harry had to choose a word to describe his friend right now, he’d say peaceful. Was this what happened when you’d led a good life and knew you were close to the end? Harry didn’t know because he hadn’t exactly led a good life and he sure as hell hoped he wasn’t at the end of it. “Too many people need you, Pop. Hell, I need you. What would we do if we woke up one morning and you weren’t here?” He tried to work up a smile but the awful possibility that this could happen sooner rather than later squeezed his gut, pulled his lips into a frown.

“I expect you’d carry on, same as before.” Pop tapped the side of his head with a bony finger. “This noggin holds a lot of ideas, but none that haven’t been thought of before, and certainly none you can’t come up with if you think on it.”

Harry’s laugh skittered between them, fizzled when it reached Pop. “You’re kidding, right? I’m the reformed, rich playboy-turned-husband who pissed away more time, money, and good intentions than I like to think about. Nobody in this town’s going to come to a guy like that, especially one who spends more on dry cleaning than they do on a week of groceries.”