There was something about the city of Toronto in the summer that Cara Rossi loved. People seemed happier in the summer.
It was definitely not Chicago.
Speaking of Chicago …
“Seems my sister is so busy, she can’t even be bothered to phone me on a regular basis,” Tommas said the moment Cara picked up her brother’s call.
“I don’t even get a hello, huh?”
“Do you think you deserve one?”
“I think I’m your only living sister, so a hello would be nice.”
“Hello, Cara. Call me more often, please. I like to know you’re still alive and kicking. Without having to call to ask if you are. Okay?”
Cara rolled her eyes upward. “I’m sorry I haven’t called in a while; I have been busy, regardless of what you think.”
“Do tell.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“What has you so busy that you can’t afford a five-minute phone call?” her brother asked.
“You’re such a nosy little shit. I think you get that from your wife.”
Tommas snorted. “Believe me, out of the two of us, it is me who is the nosiest. Abriella gets all the dirty details from me.”
“I bet.”
“I worry about you, Cara. That’s all.”
She slowed a bit in her walk to allow an older couple to go ahead of her. “You don’t need to be worried about me at all. How was the wedding?”
“That was a month ago.”
“I did call to congratulate you. You were gone. I left a message on the house phone.”
“I have a cell phone, too.”
“Which you turned off for days,” Cara argued.
Tommas grunted under his breath. “Fine, my bad. I’m shit at keeping in touch, too. I get it.”
“So, the wedding?”
“It was wonderful,” Tommas said. “I waited a long time for that day.”
Cara smiled. “Good, Tommy.”
“We headed to New York after the wedding, and then took a trip to Italy for a bit. It took us a good two weeks after we got home to settle back into a routine. That, and Abriella had to find a new doctor that she liked and we had appointments for that to catch up on.”
“A doctor, for what?”
Tommas cleared his throat. “So, we might have found out some good news the morning we got married.”
“Like?”
“Like Abriella is pregnant,” Tommas said quietly.
Cara came to a full stop on the city sidewalk, and people blew on past her like nothing was amiss. “What?”
“We haven’t told a lot of people, but it won’t be long before the news starts to travel. I wanted to be the one to tell you.”
“Congratulations, Tommas. You’re going to be a great dad.” Then, Cara thought to add, “I don’t talk to anyone from Chicago who would tell me, so no worries there.”
“Word still has a way of getting around,” Tommas said. “Which happens to be part of the reason I am calling you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I should have called the week after the wedding, when something got brought up in New York, but with Abriella and the honeymoon—”
“I don’t need details on that,” Cara jumped in fast.
Tommas laughed. “Relax, that’s not what I’m talking about. I just meant to say my mind was elsewhere for a bit but now that I’m back home and shit is settled, I figured it was time to call.”
“Again, not understanding, Tommy.”
“Is something happening up there in Ontario that I might need to be aware of?” Tommas asked.
“Not that I know of.”
“You visit Aunt Daniele and Uncle Claud.”
“Yes.”
“And nothing seems off in the family business?”
Cara sighed. “Tommas, you know I don’t stick my nose in the mafia side of the family business. I stay far the hell away from it, and for good reason.”
For one, because her twin sister had been killed by the mob. For two, because the last person she did get involved with, who happened to be mixed up with that, tore her fucking heart out and might as well have laughed about it.
She was not making that mistake again.
“Yes, but—”
“Tommas, you’re seriously asking the wrong person. I don’t have any idea what’s happening in the Guzzi family. I haven’t ever known, even when I was with Gian. Which by the way, haven’t seen him in three months, and it’ll be a few more before I do, if I can help it.”
“Three months?”
Cara hummed out her confirmation. “I’m not any man’s goomah. I don’t give a fuck who he thinks he is.”
Tommas coughed. “I’m not sure Gian ever thought that’s what you were, either.”
“You don’t know that and besides, he didn’t have to see me as his anything. What he did made everyone else see me in that way. That is bad enough.”
“Point taken,” her brother agreed quickly.
Cara was never going to allow another man to make her blind and stupid to his real life. She didn’t give a shit how good-looking and charming he was on the outside. Gian Guzzi had seriously damaged Cara emotionally and publicly. She loved him—still did, really—but that meant nothing when his lies came into play.
She hoped he was happy with his wife.
Tommas’ voice brought Cara from her thoughts. “But it was strange not to see someone from that family at the New York meeting. Do you remember what I told you three months ago?”
Cara didn’t even have to think about it. “You said if I ever found myself in over my head with anything, all I needed to do was tell you and you would fix it.”
“Good. Nothing’s changed with that, Cara.”
“I got it, Tommy.”
“And call me more, for fuck’s sake.”
The first thing Cara had learned about Carolina’s House was that it had been named after its unintentional founder. Carolina Demaske had taken in over a hundred women during the span of her ninety-four years of life. Women who were old and young, sick and helpless. She had nursed their bruised faces, cleaned their sick bodies, and helped raise their young children without ever asking for a single thing in return.
After Carolina had passed away, her daughters began the foundation that would eventually lead to the women’s shelter Cara stood in front of.
Carolina’s House was quiet when she strolled through the front doors. It wasn’t unusual for a mid-week day. The women’s shelter took in victims of domestic abuse, along with older teenage girls, and young mothers who needed help in various areas of their lives. Some needed the ability to safely get away from their abusive partners. Others needed a place to sleep, and the chance to get on their feet.
Cara had been incredibly lucky to be offered a spot at the shelter as a counselor of sorts. She worked alongside a registered therapist and counselor to help the women get their lives, business, and futures sorted out. Whatever they needed regarding legal things or even just surviving, Cara helped.
Or, she tried.
Cara wanted to be one of those people who helped.
She stopped at the drop-off room—a daycare-like space in the center where two volunteers watched over younger children while the mothers did whatever they needed to do for the day. She dropped off a bag of snacks she knew the kiddos loved. One of her favorite children noticed her presence instantly.
“Cara!”
“Hey, Mikey,” she said, letting the three-year-old boy hug her around the legs. “What are you building today?”
“A train station.”
“A train station, huh? Can I help?”
Mikey nodded enthusiastically. “Momma said she would help when she was done with Miss Jenny, but you can help, too.”
Cara didn’t hesitate to get down on the floor and help Mikey begin the building of what looked to be a huge train station. It was only once the kiddos noticed the treats that she was able to sneak out.
Carolina’s House survived because of volunteers. Amazing men and women who came in with no expectations, only the desire to make life a bit better for someone struggling. People brought food. Some brought items for the babies and kids, or things the women needed. Every little bit helped.
Cara had learned something incredibly important since beginning her co-op program with the shelter. Money could only go so far, and while it could buy a hell of a lot for those in need, sometimes care, love and support helped even more.
“I hear someone wanted to see me today,” Cara said, leaning in the doorway of her boss’s office.
Jenny smiled from behind her desk. On the other side, Tiffany flipped through documents in a folder.
“You weren’t busy, were you?” Jenny asked. “I know it’s your off day.”
“Nope. Never too busy for this.” Cara slipped into the office, closed the door behind her, and took a seat beside the seventeen-year-old Tiffany. “Mikey is working hard on his train station, by the way.”
At the mention of her son, Tiffany beamed. “I’m trying to save up enough to get him the big Lego set he wants for his birthday. It’s a whole train. He saw it at the store. Killed me to tell him no.”
Cara held back her frown. She had so much, when others had very little.
“When is his birthday?” Cara asked.
“Two months.”
“You’ll get it.”
Cara would make sure of it.
The teenaged mother hadn’t been given an easy life, and Mikey had been one of the final things to send her running from her abusive father. She had hopped from couch to couch with her son, never staying in school, and barely being able to hold down a job. Child Services had eventually caught up to the teen, and sent her home to live with her father.
Tiffany ran away with her son again. The second time, she came to Carolina’s House. So far, Tiffany had gotten a job, and her GED testing was a month away, which Cara had no doubt the girl would ace. Tiffany’s court appearance to be legally emancipated from her father and keep him from trying to take her son away, was in just two weeks.
“So, what’s happening?” Cara asked Jenny.
Jenny nodded to Tiffany. “She had something she wanted to ask, and while I could have done it over the phone, I felt it better she ask directly.”
Cara turned to the teen. “You have my cell number. You know you can call me anytime, right?”
Tiffany nodded. “Yeah, of course.”
“What do you need?”
“I know the House set up a volunteer to take me to and from court, but I was hoping … well, that you might do it, Cara. I know you’re busy, and you start back at university next week, too. But—”
“Absolutely,” Cara interjected quickly.
She was honored that Tiffany felt better having Cara there than anyone else.
“You won’t have to miss anything?” Tiffany asked.
“It doesn’t matter if I do,” Cara replied. “Lots of stuff can be worked around. This, for you, is one thing that can’t be. No problem at all.”
Tiffany’s hesitance left her eyes. “Thank you, Cara.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
They fully suspected that Tiffany’s father likely wouldn’t even show up to court, but either way, they still had to go.
“I’m going to go find Mikey,” Tiffany said.
Cara said goodbye, and once the girl was gone, turned to Jenny. “That’s all? Did you want me to stick around and help with dinner or anything?”
“Extra hands for dinner would be great, but there is one more thing.”
“Oh?”
Jenny shrugged. “Tiffany did mention something important. Your classes are starting up next week.”
“So?”
“Your co-op term actually ended last week, Cara. You’ve already gotten your grade for this, sweetheart.”
Cara just stared at the woman. “I’m here because I want to be, because this place is amazing and so are the women and the people who run it, not because of a grade.”
Jenny nodded. “I know.”
“Why mention it?”
“I wanted to ask if you would like to stay on, even after your classes start. We can work out days or evenings, weekends. It doesn’t have to be a five-day-a-week thing, or whatever. The women love you, and the staff—”
“Yes.” Cara didn’t need to think it over. “You don’t even have to ask.”
The first day back to class was always a shit show for Cara. It meant rushing between halls and buildings to be early for professors that were almost always late, but had zero issue with calling out a student for coming in after they finally showed up. It also meant orientation for smaller classes, plus going over what could be expected for the coming semester.
Cara had another year left, and she was done. Not only did she already have her Masters of Social Work, but once the year was up, she would also add her master’s degrees of science and in public health. If she decided to take her education further, she could choose a residency program for psychiatry and continue on that path. But for now, her three master’s would allow her the ability to work in several fields, including with children and mental health.
It was every goal she had wanted to achieve, and it was almost a reality.
She wasn’t used to the early morning routine after the summer, though. Cara had even managed to forget to feed herself, which sent her running to the café she liked just a couple of blocks away from the university, when she had thirty minutes to spare.
Cara groaned at the sight of a long line when she stepped into the café. Unfortunately, another swarm of people came in right behind her. She quickly filed into line in order to not wait any longer.
By the time she did get to the front of the line to place her order, Cara was damn near terrified to check her watch and see how late she already was for her second to last class. She quickly asked for a coffee, bagel, and cookie to-go. Though she was hungry for more, her stomach would have to wait until she got home.
“Your order will come up down there,” the barista said, pointing at the end of the counter.
“Great, thanks.”
Cara fiddled with her bag as she waited for her order. She kept glancing down at her watch to check the time, but her solitude didn’t last long.
“Are you waiting for someone?”
Looking over her shoulder, a pair of striking blue eyes met her gaze. The man was handsome enough, with a disarming smile and a sports coat slung over his arm. He leaned against the counter right behind Cara.
“Are you talking to me?” Cara asked.
The man nodded. “Sure am. It’s a friendly thing to do, when the only other option is standing around waiting and talking to yourself.”
Cara managed a laugh. “That’s true. And no, I’m not waiting for someone.”
“You kept looking at your watch. I just assumed.”
“I’m late,” Cara explained, “and getting later by the second.”
“I’m Nathan,” the guy said.
Cara spun around to take the hand he offered, noting his short-trimmed nails and smooth skin. He looked to be in his early thirties, if that. “Cara.”
“Well, Cara, I’m glad you’re not waiting for someone. At least no one is standing up a beautiful woman.”
She arched a brow. “Are you working toward something?”
Nathan shrugged. “Would it get me anywhere if I was?”
“I’m not on the market for dating, sorry.”
He glanced down at her hand, still firmly held in his. “No ring.”
“None on yours, either.”
“To be fair, a lot of surgeons take their rings off when they’re on a shift. I just got off mine, though. But no, there isn’t a ring.”
Cara smiled. “A doctor.”
“You don’t sound surprised.”
“Your hands give it away.”
Nathan chuckled. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“Miss, your order is ready.”
Cara dropped Nathan’s hand with a shrug and turned to grab her waiting goods. “Thank you for the conversation, but I really am late.”
“No problem.” He flashed her a smile. “Have a good day, Cara.”
“You, too.”
Cara had only taken a couple of steps toward the door, when a familiar figure passed by the café’s windows outside the business. She recognized the man for two reasons—one, he shared similar features to his brother, and for two, she had seen his face on the news over and over again several months earlier.
Domenic Guzzi.
Gian’s younger brother.
For a second, Cara simply stood there, watching Domenic pass by the café without as much as a look inside. She didn’t even know if the guy would recognize her, but it didn’t much matter. He didn’t matter, really. It was just the fact that Cara almost expected to see Gian, too.
How long could they be in the same city without running into one another? And she really hated how a part of her wanted that run in, too.
Move on, she told herself.
Before she could think better of it, Cara turned on her heel to approach Nathan again. It didn’t have to mean anything, but a date was a date, and it meant she wasn’t wallowing on a man who had severely fucked her over in the emotions department.
“Did you forget something?” Nathan asked when Cara approached him. He already had his order in hand, and looked like he was ready to head out, as well.
She held out her phone, the screen unlocked and ready to input a new contact. “Plug your number in—no guarantees, though.”
He glanced down at her phone before taking it from her. “No promises here, either.”
Cara could work with that.