I Saved the Man He Shot, So the Mob Boss Kept Me novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: Sunday Table

Yiayia's house was a narrow brick rowhouse in Greektown, and the whole street smelled of lamb.

She opened the door before we knocked.

She was four foot eleven, in a black cardigan with flour on both wrists, and she looked up at her grandson with open satisfaction.

Then she looked at me and frowned.

"Too thin," she said. "Come."

"Yiayia, this is Lena," Nikos said.

"I know who she is," Yiayia said. "Her sister has been in my kitchen since Saturday. I know everything."

Dot appeared behind her in the hall with a wooden spoon.

My sister is twenty-four, five foot six, and freckled, and she had on one of Yiayia's aprons.

She looked at me and mouthed, Help.

"Her name is Despina," Dot whispered, as I hugged her. "Nobody has used it since 1985. She's made enough lamb for the whole parish."

"Is she being nice to you?"

"She has asked me a dozen times if I have a boyfriend."

The table in the back room was already set for six.

Yiayia put Nikos at the head, which was too small for him, and me on his right.

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