Total Rush by Deirdre Martin Read Free Book Online

or—?”
    â€œStill upset.”
    â€œShe needs a swift kick in the ass, that one.”
    Gemma chuckled. “A swift kick in the ass” was one of her grandmother’s favorite expressions. It was actually made endearing by the soft edges of her Italian accent, which had worn away over the years.
    â€œThere’s more than one way to worship, cara. ”
    â€œI agree with you there.”
    She gave Gemma’s arm a squeeze. “You and me, we’re a lot alike. Now, how about you give me a ride over to the restaurant?”
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    Nonna had the knack of turning a simple ten-minute jaunt into an hour-long production.
    First, they had to stop by the house of Mrs. Crochetti, one of the women in Nonna’s prayer circle, so Nonna could check up on her. Apparently, Mrs. Crochetti was suffering with a goiter. Next, Nonna had to be driven to the bakery to pick up bread, since it would be closed by the time the christening party was over. Finally, they had to go to Nonna’s house to drop off the bread and pick up baby Domenica’s christening gift, which required wrapping. By the time Gemma’s battered old Beetle rattled into the restaurant parking lot, they were forty minutes late and the party was in full swing.
    Gemma guided Nonna through the door, where they were bombarded by the sound of happy conversation among friends and relatives. The place was packed. Some people were already seated; others stood in small groups with drinks in hand, talking. It seemed more like a wedding reception than a baptismal bash for a tiny baby. Then again, Theresa was a publicist and Michael was the New York Blades’ hometown hero. No wonder the room was packed.
    â€œWho do you want to sit with?” Gemma asked her grandmother.
    Nonna took her time assessing the crowd, finally pointing to a small, round table near the kitchen doors where Gemma’s mother and her two sisters sat.
    Gemma peered at her grandmother. “You sure? You might have more fun if you sat with someone else. Mussolini, for instance.”
    Nonna chuckled. “What could be more fun than making my daughters hot under the collar?”
    â€œWell, don’t come crying to me when Mom cuts you off after one glass of grappa.”
    As carefully as she could, Gemma maneuvered her grandmother through the dense, upbeat crowd. The baby was nowhere in sight. Theresa had probably taken her off somewhere to nurse. Seeing Gemma and Nonna approach the table, Gemma’s mother frowned.
    â€œWe only have room for one here, and we’re savin’ this seat for Robert DeNiro.”
    Aunt Betty Anne gasped. “Bobby D is here? ”
    â€œBobby D!” Aunt Millie snorted. “Like you know him!”
    Betty Anne looked insulted. “We do go to the same podiatrist,” she sniffed. “Bunions,” she added knowingly.
    â€œHe’s a client of Theresa’s,” Gemma’s mother said. “He could come. You never know.”
    â€œHe can go sit with Al Pacino, then,” Gemma said as she helped Nonna into the empty seat.
    â€œThere goes our fun,” Gemma mother’s grumbled.
    â€œTake a pill, will ya?” Aunt Millie snapped, lighting up. She squeezed Gemma’s hand.
    â€œThanks for bringing her over here, doll. We’ll make sure she stays out of trouble.” She craned her neck, anxiously looking around the room. “I don’t see Al Pacino.”
    Content her grandmother was now settled, Gemma headed for the bar. If anyone deserved a drink right now, it was her. That’s when she saw him. Blue Eyes, Sean Kennealy, firefighter/hockey player in all his heart-stopping glory. He was holding a pint of beer and talking to Michael like they were old friends.
    What was he doing here?
    She made her way toward him, hoping she wouldn’t face another lecture on fire safety. Michael’s timing couldn’t have been better: He moved off to speak with another cluster