He looked from the tile he’d just laid to me. “You get a new kitchen. Why do you wanna know why I’m givin’ it to you?”

“Because I don’t have a stove right now and I like havin’ a stove.”

Ben looked back to what he was doing, saying, “You’ll have a stove in about a week.”

“A week is a long time,” I noted.

“A week is a week,” he replied.

“True enough,” I muttered, smiling. “A week is a week.”

“You done bustin’ my chops?” Benny asked, setting in another tile.

“Maybe.”

“Whatever,” he murmured, grinning at the tile, being my awesome Benny because I was a woman who busted her man’s chops and he was a man who liked it.

“You wanna know what Tandy said?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“The board officially promoted Travis Berger from acting CEO to just plain CEO, seein’ as he did so well with all that crap that went down after Tenrix bein’ bad was outed.”

“And I give a shit about that because…?” Ben queried.

I grinned at the lip of my can and replied, “Just an FYI,” before I took a sip.

“What did Tandy say about the job?”

“Seein’ as it pays ten grand more a year and I told her I talked my new bosses into payin’ her moving expenses because she was that good of an assistant, she said she’d take it.”

Benny’s eyes came to me and I found, not for the first time, that I was right: I wasn’t used to their beauty. I’d never get used to their beauty. Especially not when they looked like that—happy in a way that I knew he was happy for me.

“Good news, baby,” he said softly.

“Yeah,” I replied just as softly. “Team Frankie and Tandy are gonna kick ass at our new jobs in Chicago.”

He smiled at me.

No. I’d never get used to getting all that goodness from Benny Bianchi.

“We’ll celebrate tonight. Come in and keep me company in the kitchen,” he invited on an order.

“That I can do,” I told him, but only because I liked keeping him company in his kitchen. “Now, what I’m gonna do is leave you to do what you seem to have to do. I’m goin’ over to bug Mrs. Zambino.”

“Take Gus with you. He’s makin’ me feel guilty.”

I looked down at Gus, who did indeed look like he was pining for his daddy, even if his daddy was only six feet away.

I looked back at Benny. “You got it, capo.”

Ben gave me a look, but he did it with his lips twitching.

I gave him a grin and informed him, “You can turn the music back up now.” Then I patted my thigh and called my dog as I moved to the front door. Gus followed me, no longer pining for Daddy. He was panting and had a doggie smile on his face, happy he was getting time with Mommy.

The music ratcheted high. I grinned as I found my cardigan, pulled it on, put the leash on Gus, and we headed out the door and across the street. I walked up Mrs. Zambino’s stoop and Gus waddled up beside me.

Once there, I juggled the leash and my hold on my can of pop and knocked on the door.

She opened it two seconds later and a half second after that, demanded to know, “What are you and that mongrel doing over here?”

I took in her perfectly coifed hair and made a mental note to ask where she got her sweater so I could get the same exact one before I replied, “We’ve come for a visit.”

“I thought Benny was puttin’ in a new kitchen for you,” she noted.

“He is,” I confirmed.

“And why aren’t you helpin’ him?”

I looked down at my awesome jeans, my fabulous top, my stylish cardie, and my magnificent high-heeled boots, then I looked at her.

“Do I look like a woman who lays tile?”

“He should have help,” she informed me.

“Manny’s gonna come over when he does the cupboards and stuff,” I informed her.

“He’s doin’ something for you, Francesca.”

“Yes, and it’s my job to look amazing to remind him why, thus…” I swept a hand down my front and let that speak the rest for me.

She rolled her eyes.

“Are you gonna let us in?” I asked.

“I suppose,” she muttered irritably and stepped aside, but did this still muttering. “You get any of that grape soda on my furniture, you’re payin’ for the cleaning.”

“I’ll be careful, Mrs. Zambino,” I said as we moved in.

We got settled in her living room. I let Gus off his leash and he went directly to Mrs. Zambino’s feet and laid on them.

She said not one word about this, mostly because she might call him “the mongrel,” but she adored him. I knew this because she came over in the mornings and demanded he go on her power walks with her.

She did this saying, “Someone has to keep that mongrel in shape,” even though she knew Benny and/or I took him on at least three walks a day.

Instead of saying something about Gus, she pierced me with her gaze. “I see Benny hasn’t put a ring on your finger.”

“Not yet.”

“He should see to that. Livin’ together without God’s sanction. Now that Manny has finally made an honest woman of his Sela, Theresa’s lightin’ candle after candle in hopes of savin’ your souls.”

I grinned at her because of her totally-didn’t-mean-it surly words and at the reminder of Manny and Sela’s awesome wedding.

I did this before I suggested, “Why don’t you do me a favor and tell him to get on that?”

She looked to her knees, murmuring, “I don’t want to disturb his work in your kitchen.”

This meant she was happy giving me shit, but she wasn’t about to give the same to Benny Bianchi. I figured this was not because she was afraid of Benny. She wasn’t afraid of anything. This was because she didn’t want to do anything that might make him stop fixing stuff around her house when it broke, which didn’t happen frequently, but her house was old so it happened regularly.

“Mrs. Zambino,” I called, and she looked back at me. I crossed my legs and held her eyes as I said straight out, “You were right.”

“I’m always right,” she returned, and I grinned again. “But what in particular was I right about this time?”

“Love is never wrong.”

She studied me, but I could swear her eyes got soft.

“I’m lucky,” I said quietly. “Havin’ an old woman across the street who’ll give me wisdom.”

She looked toward her TV.

“Mrs. Zambino,” I called again, and she looked to me. “It took a while, but you started it, so you gotta know: I look in the mirror now and see what you see.”

Yes. Definitely. Her eyes were soft.

“Frankie,” she whispered.

“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” I asked.

She pressed her lips together.

“Pure beauty,” I said softly.

That was when I saw her eyes get bright a second before I saw her chin lift and heard her mouth say, “If you think you can get into my will by bein’ sweet to me, forget it. I got enough girls fightin’ over my jewelry and handbags. I’ll pick a piece for you to get when I die and you’ll like it.”

“Of course I will, you have great taste,” I told her.

“I know I do,” she returned.

That was when I burst out laughing.

***

The instant the waiter left our table, I grabbed my Champagne glass, glued my eyes to Benny across from me, put my glass to my lips, and belted it back.

All of it.

Benny burst out laughing.

We were at Giuseppe’s. I was wearing a phenomenal dress I knew was phenomenal because we were late for our reservation, seeing as Benny banged me against the wall about a nanosecond after he saw me in it.

We were there to celebrate our new kitchen, which was a bit crazy, seeing as I didn’t want to be in a restaurant. I’d had enough of restaurants and takeaway and microwave meals the last month Benny spent working on the kitchen.

What I wanted was to use my fabulous new stove and stare into my scarily expensive, new stainless-steel fridge until it started beeping (then close the door, open it, and stare into the cavernous space again).

But Benny wanted to celebrate at Giuseppe’s.

And Giuseppe’s was Giuseppe’s.

So who was I to say no?

Ben reached to the Champagne bottle and started to refill my glass, saying, “Glad we had a good week at the restaurant so I don’t have to take out a loan to pay our check tonight.”

Every week was a good week at Vinnie and Benny’s Pizzeria.

But I didn’t say that.

I said, “Most fortunate.”

He shoved the bottle back into the bucket, then shoved his hand into his inside jacket pocket, all this saying, “Also glad business is steady so I could pay for the new kitchen I know you love but still bitched about, and so I could get you this.”

That was when he set a diamond ring at the top of my place setting.

I stared at the cushion-cut diamond surrounded with little diamonds twinkling in the candlelight. A ring that was not small or understated. A ring that was about flash and impact.

A ring that was perfect for me.

Then my eyes shot to Benny, the man who was perfect for me.

His brows rose, but his eyes were locked to mine as his deep, easy voice asked, “Wanna spend the rest of your life with me?”

My breath stopped.

“Frankie?” he called.

I didn’t move or speak. I just sat frozen in my chair staring at my Benny Bianchi.

“Cara,” he whispered.

“Did you have to ask?” I whispered back, and his lips curved up.

“No.”

“Will you put the ring on me?”

That was when he gave me a full-on, beautiful Benny Bianchi smile.

“Yeah.”

I licked my lips and held out my hand.

Ben reached out and picked up the ring. He slid it on my finger and, swear to God, I felt an electric charge over every centimeter of skin as he glided it to the base.