Chapter Four
chapter four
RAFAEL
With a bottle of wine tucked under my arm, I walk towards the park on the outskirts of Ruby Cove. It’s closer to Hotel Dolce and where the town hosts the weekly markets, and any other festivals, including the food festival today.
People from all around the area have been filtering into town for the last week or so, getting ready for today.
I walk around the corner and the usually bare park is brimming with stalls and food carts that are packed into the space like sardines. A clearing in the middle remains open for everyone to sit on picnic blankets, or, if they’re lucky, one of the few picnic tables dotted around.
“Rafael!” I hear Marina’s voice and a second later, see her waving me over to where she’s sitting by herself on a pink and orange checkered blanket.
“I see you brought the good stuff,” she greets, gesturing to the bottle.
I pull the wine out from under my arm. “Only the best for you.”
Marina is Caio’s younger cousin. Her ma, Vanessa, took Caio under her wing when he first moved to town, and she’s been stuck with the lot of us ever since .
“I’m regretting not setting up a cocktail stall. I could’ve made a little extra cash on a day like today. I didn’t know it would be so busy.” She looks around. “I’m surprised you didn’t set up today.”
I roll my eyes on instinct. Marina has this way of prying you open without you even noticing, but I’ve been friends with her long enough to know when she’s trying to get me to open up, and I don’t feel like talking about myself today. “The cocktail stand is definitely a missed opportunity.”
“Rafael—”
I nod behind her to where I can see everyone else walking up to us, with Caio and Isla leading the pack. My best friend has a warm smile on his face as he looks down at Isla. I can’t help but be grateful that she came into town. Caio's never been happier than I’ve seen him in the last few months since Isla first caught his eye.
Isla waves over at us, catching Marina’s attention, but not before Marina pins me with a look that tells me our conversation isn’t over.
Behind them, Heath, Leo, and May follow, the latter walking in the middle with her arms looped through my friend’s arms on either side of her.
Marina looks back at me as I sigh. “I heard you had a little…encounter the other night.” She clears her throat.
“Yeah, that is something we are definitely never talking about.” It’s been nearly two days since I caught May in the supply closet of my restaurant, and I can’t get the image of her taunting smile out of my head.
Marina smiles, but looks down at her lap as the others approach us.
“Not a word,” I warn.
“Rafael, hi!” I stand up just in time for Isla to wrap me in one of her warm hugs.
“ Ciao, Isla .”
“Have you guys been waiting long?” she asks, moving to give Marina a hug as Caio pats me on the back .
“Only a few minutes,” Marina says. “I wanted to get everything set up.”
“Set up?” May asks as she finally reaches us.
She’s wearing one of those silly graphic crop tops that she loves. This one has “reading is sexy” printed right over her tits, and she’s paired it with a denim skirt that’s almost as short as that dress from the other night.
God, that dress from the other night .
I might despise May’s infuriating personality, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have eyes. She’s even more infuriatingly sexy today, just as her shirt suggests.
“Like what you see, Deo?” she teases quietly. Everyone else has wandered off with Marina, so it’s just me, her, and that shameless smirk on her face, like she knows exactly what I was just thinking about.
I frown in response.
“Oh, always so serious,” she coos, before catching up with Heath. I shake my head and reluctantly follow after her.
“Oh, you’re all going down,” Leo brags as we all stand in front of the corn hole Marina set up. I’d never admit it, but I appreciate a good game of corn hole. It reminds me of afternoons at my nonna’s house with Marisol. Loud, fun, and full of life. Full of love. My heart sinks at the thought, like it does every time the image of the family that I no longer have flashes in my mind. That happens every time I walk into my restaurant.
Nonna’s restaurant.
“Up for a game, chef?” Leo asks me, dragging me from my thoughts.
“Game on.”
“All that bragging seems to have worn you out, man,” I say to Leo, opting for a nicer way of saying he sucks at this game. I’ve beat him three for three.
“I bow out. Whitley, sub in.” He waves May over, where she happily takes his place, and grabs the three beanbags from him as they cross paths.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Get on with it, chef .”
I bristle at the nickname coming from her, and then I throw my bags, all three hitting their mark. Caio whistles from behind me, where he sits with Isla in between his legs. “Since when did you become a corn hole pro, Raf?”
“It’s not really something worth bragging about, is it?” Hi, my name is Rafael, and I’m really fucking good at corn hole.
I shake my head, chuckling as May moves into position. Her face is pure concentration as she lines up her shot. She pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth as she aims, and I can’t look away. I never took notice of how soft they look, how luscious.
Thump.
May’s bag lands on the ramp, just short of the hole. “Ah, so close,” I say.
She pins me with a glare. She may as well be shooting daggers at me, it's that deadly.
She faces forward, finding her focus again before she throws…and misses again. This time, the bag lands in the grass.
I suck air between my teeth. “Tough luck.”
“You can shut up now. You know, some people might call this interference.”
I shake my finger at her. “Where’s that charming confidence now?”
“You keep pointing that finger in my face and I’ll bite it off,” she spits, doing exactly what I wanted.
She squares her shoulders and moves to stand right in front of me. “You want to play dirty, Rafael? I can play dirty.”
“I have no doubt about that.” I smile, and it just makes her frown more. Our roles are reversed, and I can see now why she enjoys it so much. Her nostrils flare and she looks like she’s ready to downright drop kick me at any moment.
“Last shot, Whitley,” I nod to where our game sits unfinished.
“Welcome, everyone!” A loud voice booms through the open space. I turn around to see Meryll standing on a little stage between a few food stalls.
May takes the distraction as an opportunity to abandon our game, dropping the beanbag and trudging back to the picnic blanket with the others, no doubt glad for the interruption to her losing game.
I should be glad about it too. I already know she’d be a sore loser, and I’m not sure I want to find out what comes along with that. But a part of me wishes I could have the bragging rights over her. I know that sounds childish, but that’s what happens to me when it comes to a competition with May.
“And welcome to Ruby Cove for another year of our annual local food festival!” A cacophony of cheering and clapping echoes around us. Meryll owns a fromagerie on Main Street and is big on organizing town events, including the food festival every year.
“We have lots of new stalls this year, and we are so excited to see you all here supporting our local community! Please enjoy yourselves and dig in!”
Hoots and cheers erupt again before the atmosphere goes back to muttering all around us.
“Where’s your stall this year, Raf?” Leo asks.
“I thought I’d enjoy the festival from this side this year.” Even if I feel a little bit bitter watching stallholders laughing and smiling as they serve up goods to the festival goers.
“Right, but don’t you always do a stall?” Caio nudges him in the side, not so subtly. “What?” Leo whispers, clearly oblivious.
“We used to,” I say bluntly. I don’t want to talk about the fact that now that all of my family is gone, it wouldn't feel the same to set up a stall all by myself.
He nods off, clearly avoiding the rest of the conversation .
“I was saying to Rafael that I should’ve done a cocktail stand,” Marina chimes in.
“Ugh, yes!” May and Isla say in unison. “That would’ve been perfect.”
“Next year.” They nod in agreement.
Although Marina’s attempt at distraction was good, I can see Leo trying to have a silent conversation with Caio across the picnic blanket.
“ Oh, per l’amor di Dio ,” I mutter. “I didn’t want to cook, Leo. What’s the big deal?”
He holds his hands up. “No big deal, just curious.”
I refrain from mentioning how we’re all just curious about the fact that he still hasn’t gone back to his own security firm in Sorrento in the last four months.
In all honesty, the idea of setting up a stall this year didn’t even cross my mind. I used to do it all the time as a kid. Me, Nonna, and my parents would all stand behind one stall dishing out meals like we were in a fast-food restaurant, it was so busy.
The festival used to be a way to test out new recipes, but I haven’t been able to conjure up anything new in months. Like I said, that spark is gone, along with my culinary creativeness. I just make the same thing every night. I don’t have the motivation to even try something new, something exciting, because it doesn’t excite me anymore. Cooking doesn’t make me feel anything anymore, only numbness.
I catch May frowning at me out of the corner of my eye and I throw one back. She rolls her eyes before switching her attention to Isla beside her.
I can almost feel the salt emanating from her pores.
Yup, definitely a sore loser.