The Capo (The Valentini Family #5 | The Salvation Duet #1)

Chapter 1 Kitty

ONE

KITTY

Playlist recommendation:

I’d Rather Overdose - honestav, Z

“Is that a dick, or is he just happy to see us?”

“George, I’m worried. You’re a nurse as well as the possessor of a penis that I know is fully functioning because Millie’s pregnant and Sammy just turned eighteen months old, but you’re unsure if the man in bay four is swinging his in a circle? Is it time for a refresher course on male anatomy?”

George, ignoring me entirely, rubbed his chin. “I don’t care that it’s unprofessional. I’m both jealous and relieved that Millie is on her sabbatical today. After the shift we’ve had, that’s too much for my brain to cope with.”

Hiding a laugh—hey, someone had to be the professional here—I yanked on the bay’s curtain. “Stop leering.”

“I’m not leering! I’m 94.5% straight. If anything, I’m impressed and feeling very sorry for my wife.” Said wife must have realized her ears were burning because George’s pager beeped. “Shit, that’s Millie. Will you cover for me? Says she’s experiencing Braxton Hicks.”

“Sure thing.” This was the fourth time she’d paged. “Give her my love.”

Millie, George, another friend of ours, Lara, and I had all met while we’d worked at a coffee joint in our first year of nursing school. That meant I had a personal investment in Millie’s current sitch—and not only because I’d been promised godmother bragging rights.

Mid-run, George huffed out, “You’re a lifesaver!”

Didn’t I know it.

With him gone, I stuck my head between the gap in the patterned curtains and found the not-so-strange stranger maintaining a perfect 360° helicopter.

Still.

I blinked a few times, wondering what the underworld would do if they could see Custanzu Valentini in action.

I considered myself lucky that I’d sworn off men unless they were finance bros or I might, just might, have tugged at my scrubs’ collar and resented the lack of AC. Thankfully, obstinacy put a halt to any attraction.

Even if that ink on display was—

No.

I wouldn’t even think the word ‘yum.’

There was nothing ‘yum’ about this situation. The disturbingly large penis on display served only as a severe reminder that the astronauts on the International Space Station were less high than him.

“Sir?” No response. “SIR!” I barked, bringing out my ‘big sister’ voice.

It worked. Of course.

He stilled mid-thrust. Then, fuck, dropped face first. I managed to bite back my surprised yelp but dropped to my knees to help when the idiot started performing a set of goddamn push-ups!

“CUSTANZU VALENTINI,” I snarled. “You will behave yourself or I’ll…” I struggled to find a consequence for a thirty-plus-year-old man who had a forty-thousand-dollar watch strapped to his wrist. “…tell your great-uncle you were rude to a lady!”

I winced when he collided with the linoleum via his forehead. Then he rolled over to stare at me with bleary eyes. “You know Prozio?”

Prozio?

I stacked my hands on my knees. “I know Currau, yes.” Once I realized I was in a pious position, I scrabbled back to my feet.

“Currau.” He repeated the name. “How do you know him? He’s in the hospital.”

No shit.

“We’re in the hospital.” When that didn’t seem to register, I sighed. “I visited him the other week.”

His mouth popped open. Then closed. In tangent with his eyes. That kind of thing only ever happened when someone was tripping. “Are you an angel?”

Sheesh. What the hell had he taken?

A quick glance at his chart told me the substance was unconfirmed.

“My mother doesn’t think so.”

“You must be. Currau won’t talk to anyone. Not even Rory. And that makes Rory want to cry, but she never does in front of him.”

“That’s sad.”

“Very.” He glanced at me, then down at himself as he twisted over so he was lying on a patch of floor that someone had puked on earlier. “I’m naked.”

“Well aware of that fact.” I snatched the gown one of my colleagues had failed to get him into and returned to a crouching position beside him. “I’d appreciate it if you’d put this on.”

“Where are my clothes? Did someone steal them?”

“According to your chart, you stripped of your own accord.”

He hissed. “Not again.”

Not again?

“This is a regular occurrence, sir?”

“Damn PDE5 inhibitors.”

“Excuse me?”

“No. Can’t be that. They’re tried and tested. Unless they’re reacting to the…”

His voice dropped even lower, but what I made out was definitely science talk. Chemist talk, to be specific.

“Sofia The Great agreed with my calculations. They have to be right or I’ve fucked it all up and now Dead To Me has—”

“Dead To Who what now?” I sputtered.

“I paid her to extract Sofia, all right? I know I shouldn’t have.”

“Extract? Like a rotten tooth?”

“She’s an enemy, but everyone needs a savior.” Words bubbled from his lips. “I don’t talk to her anymore. She used to be my sounding board. I could go on our forum, but I don’t know if she’ll even answer. I went radio silent on her, okay?!”

“Okay!”

“I know, all right? I’m a bastard.” His eyes darted from left to right so quickly that I felt dizzy. “And because I always fuck up, I’m so screwed!”

Still babbling, when he punched the floor, I snapped, “If you break your knuckles, I won’t be the one taking you down to X-ray.”

That shut him up. “But you’re an angel. I need an angel too. Maybe you can talk to Evangeline for me.”

“I’m not an angel,” I protested, and when he batted his lashes at me, I reared back in surprise.

“A sweeter soul in life too soon for death. May the angels guide her home.”

“I’m definitely not that type of angel. That… sounds like a quote.”

“From an obituary. She wouldn’t have liked it. Too flowery. She wrote. But serious stuff. Nothing whimsical. Savannah Daniels was her idol, not Keats.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Miss her.”

“She died recently?”

“Natali.”

“Natali,” I repeated. “Christmas?” At his miserable nod, I knew if I wasn’t careful, his trip would turn sour.

Or maybe it already had. Who the hell knew?

! I’d handled some crazies in my time, but this guy was the whackiest. “Look, it’s time to get onto the bed.

If for no other reason than the sake of modesty. ”

“I’m not a very modest person.”

Captain Obvious had nothing on this guy, huh?

“How about everyone else’s?”

With a sigh that was the dictionary definition of ‘put upon,’ he finally settled on the bed and accepted the blanket as a covering, where he proceeded to stare at me like no one else in the universe existed.

If I were any other woman and hadn’t sworn off men who didn’t believe in the god of hedge funds, that puppy-dog look would probably have made me melt.

But I did worship at the temple of the buck and I had three brothers who’d used that look a million times on me at one point or another.

My sole concession was to take a seat beside his bed, but only because I hadn’t had the chance to sit down during my shift yet.

That was the only reason.

“Your eyes are pretty.”

Now that I had him where I needed him, I charted his vitals. “Not the first time a man on drugs has told me that.”

“I’m not on drugs.”

“My nursing experience tells me otherwise.”

“Not drugs-drugs. Medicine drugs.”

Because that was some sort of breakthrough, I jotted the observation down. “What kind of medicine?”

“I made it.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Do you run a meth lab?”

“Do I look like Walter White?”

No, he definitely didn’t.

“I know who you are, Mr. Valentini.”

“Stan.”

“Mr. Valentini.”

“Stan.”

“Mr. Valentini.”

His nose wrinkled. “You’re an older sister, aren't you?”

“Perhaps. What kind of medication?”

“Heart stuff.”

Heart stuff?

What the fuck?

Mind flipping through the various known compounds, I almost missed his shoulders rounding and his mumbled, “I miss her.”

“Is there someone you want me to call? This… Rory?”

Before he could answer, my pager beeped and I grimaced at the code blue. “Sir, I’ll return shortly.”

Whatever had beckoned the shift in his mood from helicopter-happy to heartbroken, it had him obeying.

That left me to my emergency.

Once I dealt with the choking incident in a three-year-old who thought Legos looked tasty, a nasty case that led to surgery, I returned to his room and found him snoring.

Thankful for the peace even as I prayed for someone to show up with an IV of coffee, I yawned then yelped when a bag rebounded off the back of my head.

I flipped George the bird. “You can pick that up. I’m not.”

“It’s a snack!”

“Coffee is the only food group I need. Not veggie chips. How do you work this many shifts with a kid?”

A toddler, no less. With another on the way, I didn’t know if he and Millie were crazy or just overly fertile.

“It’s called high-functioning anxiety and Adderall.”

“God, I wish I could get a prescription for that.”

With both of us months away from becoming physician assistants, I got the feeling I’d be the first to croak—either fatherhood or ADHD meds had triggered George’s superpowers.

The veggie chip bag crinkled louder than the systematic beeps of the machines monitoring Mr. Valentini as he tore it open. When he chowed down on a grody piece of okra, I pulled a face.

“Who eats veggie chips at three AM anyway?”

“Wives who are terrified their husbands inherited their father’s heart disease.”

I clucked my tongue. “Your dad was sixty-eight. You’re not even thirty!”

“Doesn’t take her fear away. Her anxiety’s skyrocketed since she found out she’s pregnant again.” He stepped over to me. “How’s he looking?” When I showed him the chart, his brows lifted at the notes I’d jotted. “Homemade heart meds? I swear to fuck, you see it all here. I’m gonna…”

When he broke off, I turned to frown at him. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

He gulped. “…miss this.”

I froze. But the rest of the department didn’t. A piercing shriek from someone at the other end of the ER didn’t even garner my attention. “What?!”

He snagged a hold of my hand and squeezed my fingers. “Mom needs me back home and Millie said she’d like the extra help with childcare if she’s ever going to return to nursing.”