Lacey Luzzi: Sprinkled: A humorous cozy mystery! (Lacey Luzzi Mafia Mysteries Book 1) by Gina LaManna Read Free Book Online

closely behind.
    As I walked through this grand fortress, the idea was pounded into my head over and over again. I wasn’t Mafia material – I was the daughter of a stripper. But there was something about Carlos, something that despite all of those intimidating, scary qualities that made me want to impress him. Maybe because it seemed an impossible target to hit, and I was a glutton for punishment. Or maybe I still longed for the praise that came far and few between when I did something Carlos would be proud of.
    “Yours?” Federico asked.
    “What?” I’d been lost in my daydream. “Oh, yeah.”
    We’d entered the Family hallway – a hallway where guests were not allowed, only members our immediate family and the occasional extra Carlos held close to his heart. Here was where our personal belongings were stored – the rest of the house was clean and beautiful and exquisite, but not exactly personal. The pictures were professional and unsmiling, meant to intimidate. This hallway though, this was where Nora was allowed to go wild. And wild she’d went: pictures and certificates and plaques dangled at all sorts of angles from the hallway, nailed in by none other than Nora herself.
    Federico was pointing to an old spelling bee certificate, the one I’d won in eighth grade.
    “Carlos likes,” Federico said. “He brags.”
    “No, he doesn’t.” My cheeks blushed. “Not about that.”
    Federico gave one nod and continued down the hallway adorned with little league trophies, soccer team patches, jerseys from football and track, and even the occasional letter of acceptance or award. The sports stuff belonged to my cousins, except the nerd stuff belonged to Clay. There were a few mug shots of my Uncle Nicky. And right next to my mother’s nipple tassels, was the only thing I could claim: a measly little spelling bee certificate – I hadn’t even succeeded at being bad.
    Which in turn, made me a natural choice for Mafia material. Not.
    The doorway at the end of the hallway was the Family kitchen. We had a large, perfectly set dining room available for company, and even a fancier kitchen for less elegant meals, but this kitchen was my favorite. The walls were yellow, filled with pictures upon pictures of family and friends and grandkids, and the table was a beat up picnic table, imported from Carlos and Nora’s house in Italy. It was solid and large, perfect for seating a large family. I loved it.
    Federico knocked once on the heavy swinging door. A voice trilled from inside to Come on in!  
    Federico pushed the door open, his muscles bulging with the effort, and there stood Auntie Nora (actually my grandma, but she preferred the ‘younger’ term of auntie). Her hair was short and frizzy and fire truck red, her glasses impressively over-sized and the blush on her cheeks as brilliant as her hair.
    “Come in, come in,” she said, kissing me on all sides of my face. “I’ve already started cooking.”
    “Of course you have,” I said. I could smell the wine on her breath. Nora wasn’t an alcoholic – at least not more than anyone else in my family – but the start to every one of her recipes was ‘three glasses of red,’ even if it was just barely lunch. She insisted it helped her cook better. I expected it helped her ignore everyone’s grimaces at the dinner table after a few bites of gravy.
    And despite the fact that she was richer than God, Nora continuously insisted a meal wasn’t worth eating if it wasn’t homemade. Carlos brought up the idea of hiring a chef over and over again (probably so we could enjoy a fully edible meal), but she’d laugh and pat his head. No, no, dear. I can handle it. I wouldn’t trust anyone to feed you except myself. Then she’d kiss him on the forehead, and Carlos would choke down another cookie.
    “Sit, sit, honey.” Nora ushered me to sit next to the chair reserved for Carlos, who owned the head of the table. “Look who showed up for lunch.”
    Nora smiled at me