Chapter 19 – Luca
NEW RESTAURANT,
THE OLIVE,
OPENING TONIGHT!
‘It’s no crime to check out the competition, right?’ I ask.
‘Right,’ Mum agrees, her voice sounding tinny through the speaker of my phone.
I watch as she ties her blonde hair into a ponytail, getting ready for another day of monitoring the sex lives of kiwi birds.
I wish I found birds as interesting as she does, but I’ve never really understood the fascination.
‘I mean, I love your dad, and I’d die for him, but I’d also gladly stab him in the back for free pizza.
If he wants to mope and miss out on a piece of la dolce vita, that’s on him,’ she says, brandishing what looks like a bottle of sunscreen.
‘Feels like I’m betraying him,’ I admit. I’m standing in an alcove just a few steps away from the restaurant entrance and occasionally wave when someone spots me as they enter.
Mum halts, several white dots of sunscreen on her face.
Seeing her up close is almost like looking in a mirror.
When I was younger and Mum was still around, tourists would often be confused by our obvious resemblance, unsure whether we were mother and child or siblings with an unusual age gap.
If I grew my hair out and put the right make-up on, we might even pass as sisters.
‘That’s because you’re sweet and pure,’ she says. ‘But firstly, your dad is shockingly brick-headed, and secondly, you should never feel guilty for eating mozzarella balls. And I presume there’ll be mozzarella balls.’
I step closer to the window and glance inside. ‘You’re not wrong. About the mozzarella balls and Dad’s brick-head.’
‘Wait, can you turn your camera and point out Daniel?’ Mum asks.
‘Um, why?’
‘Maz insists he’s “not that good-looking” and I can always tell when he’s lying.’
‘Yeah, no, I’m not doing that. I can’t have two parents crushing on the same guy.’
‘Wouldn’t be the first time,’ she mumbles and starts blending in the sunscreen.
‘What?’
‘Never mind, now stop stalling and go inside!’
‘No, Mum, that’s not fair!’
‘There are bird droppings that are urgently waiting for me to collect them, so I gotta go! Love you! Eat tons of pizza for me!’
She blows me lots of kisses and ends the call, cutting off my protest. I shake my head, thinking – not for the first time – that my parents never really grew out of being teenagers.
When I step into the Olive, I can’t shake the lingering sense of remorse.
But I remind myself that Daniel personally invited us, so it would be rude not to show up, which makes me feel a tad better.
Lombard’s new and only Italian restaurant is about half the size of the cafe, but Daniel’s turned it into a modern space, with exposed beams and upholstered furniture in mossy tones.
I look around as if I don’t already know that Simo hasn’t arrived.
I spent the last ten minutes staring down the street to see if he was approaching, growing nervous for no obvious reason, until Mum called and offered distraction.
The smell of garlic and sage in the air calms my nerves.
I pinch a couple of cherry tomatoes and find a comfy bench in the far corner with a good view of the entrance.
You’d never think this used to be a pet shop.
Nowadays, the only animal around is Daniel’s miniature dachshund, who’s obsessed with cheese.
She keeps getting up on her hind legs to glance at the charcuterie boards, then throws me a look with pleading eyes.
I’m close to giving in and sneaking her a piece of Parmesan when Simo finally arrives.
He doesn’t spot me immediately. While he scans the room, I scan him, from the dark curls that I can feel beneath my hand just by looking at him to the way the light flatters his skin.
When he meets my eyes, recognition flashes across his features, followed by a smile that temporarily knocks my ability to breathe.
I barely have the chance to wonder why it’s getting harder to function like a normal human being around him before he appears before me.
‘You smell nice,’ I say before my mind catches up to my mouth. It might be the mood lighting, but I think he’s blushing.
‘It’s a nice occasion, so I put aftershave on,’ he says, and sits down next to me, his thigh brushing against mine. ‘Do you like it?’ he asks, sounding casual, but now I’m sure there’s a flush beneath the last few freckles on his cheeks.
‘I do. It suits you,’ I admit. Simo always smells of summer and the lemony detergent his parents use for laundry.
Now there’s a new note, one that pleasantly tickles my nose.
It makes me want to lean in. Fold myself into the crook of his neck, lips locked to his skin.
Inhale deeply until his scent fills my chest.
My lungs are burning, and a cocktail of aromas hits my brain; citrus and cedarwood and other notes I can’t name.
But beneath it all: Simo. The sensation slams me back into the present.
I almost let my intrusive thoughts win. I almost crossed an uncrossable line, in a room full of people.
And the scariest bit is that a tiny part of me regrets not doing it.
Simo is too distracted by the sausage dog to notice anything. She’s returned, ready to persuade someone else to pull off a cheese heist for her.
‘You must be Olive,’ he says, and picks her up.
I force myself to look elsewhere, because Simo with a puppy on his lap might seriously melt my brain.
I spot Louise weaving her way through the crowd carrying a tray of violently orange drinks.
She’s tamed her ringlets into a tight bun, which highlights the heart shape of her face.
‘You three make a cute picture,’ she says when she reaches us. I resist the impulse to shift away from Simo.
‘Hey, Louise,’ he says, ignoring the remark. ‘You work here now?’
‘Yup. And I’d offer you two of these –’ she nods to the cocktails on her tray – ‘but you’re underage and I don’t want to get fired on my first day.’
‘Is Mairi around?’ Simo asks, which throws me back to the conversation we had while watching Emma.
He says that there’s nothing between them, and I believe him.
He’s never expressed interested in anyone.
Whenever I suspected that he had a crush on someone – a girl from school, an actress – I was too chicken to ask him.
Maybe it’s my fault that we don’t talk about his crushes, because I don’t talk about mine.
But I can’t tell him about my true feelings for him.
I couldn’t even admit it to myself until recently.
And even now I try not to dwell on those feelings, which is getting harder and harder. They refuse to stay contained.
‘I haven’t seen her,’ Louise replies, ‘but I’m sure she’ll be here soon. There’s free pizza after all.’ She smiles, her cheeks plump and rosy, and disappears back into the crowd.
‘She could be the culprit,’ Simo mutters, as if he’s been reading my thoughts. ‘That comment felt pointed.’
I’ve asked myself if Louise could be the person splashing our names all over town, but I have yet to come up with a reason why she’d want to. Why anyone would care. That’s the weird part: the motive. Do they want to harm us or . . . or what?
‘But also, she’s not wrong,’ he says, and turns to me.
Olive has made herself comfortable on his legs, and her eyes are half shut in bliss while Simo rubs her back.
‘We do make a pretty picture.’ He holds my gaze, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s flirting with me.
That’s when I know I’m well and truly fucked.
My crush is so out of control it’s making me see things.
Heat creeps up my neck while I scramble for an appropriate reply.
Daniel saves me. He’s dressed in black, from his tuxedo trousers to the loose dress shirt, complemented by his dark hair and beard. It’s the easy-going laugh and the heartfelt way that he greets people that make him truly shine. He looks at ease in his new restaurant.
‘Boys, I’m so glad you came. Looks like Olive has made you her disciples already.’
‘We don’t mind,’ Simo replies, ‘and thanks for inviting us. You’ve turned this into such a nice place.’
Look, I know we root for rough boys, bad boys, boys who act first and think later, but right now Simo’s gentle voice and impeccable manners are having a real effect on me. And on Daniel too, who is beaming.
‘I’m proud of what I’ve pulled off, but there’s one thing that would make me even happier,’ he says, turning to me. ‘Are you sure you can’t convince your dad to come?’ He points over my shoulder. When I turn, I get a clear view of Dad mopping the floor of the cafe.
‘I doubt it,’ I say. Guilt creeps up on me, seeing Dad alone in the shop while half of Lombard is squeezing itself into Daniel’s place just across the road. Staying away is his decision though, not mine.
‘Please?’ Daniel says, ‘I don’t want to antagonise him. Life is going to be easier if we can be friends. And you could look after Olive from time to time.’
There’s no way I can refuse now. ‘If you let me borrow her, I’ll have Dad over here in no time.’
‘She’s all yours,’ he says. I lift her from Simo’s lap and scoop her into my arms. She licks my chin to say hello.
‘Be right back,’ I tell them, and I’m out the door and across the street, giggling as she tickles my neck with her sniffs. I’ve barely set foot in the cafe when Dad stops me in my tracks.
‘Don’t you drop that. I just cleaned,’ he warns.
‘That is a dog, and her name is Olive,’ I retort. ‘And she’s clean.’
‘What do you need?’ Dad asks, eyeing her suspiciously.
‘Daniel wants you to come over.’
‘Does he now?’ he says, and wipes the already spotless counter.
‘So will you come?’
‘I’m busy tidying.’
‘The place couldn’t be tidier, Dad.’
‘Some of the tables wobble. I was going to fix that.’