7. SOPHIE ONE WEEK LATER
SOPHIE: ONE WEEK LATER
“Hand me that,” Siena says, gesturing vaguely toward a stack of linen napkins on the nearest table.
She’s on her knees arranging the bottom shelf of the server station, Emilia strapped to her chest in a pale pink carrier.
The baby stirs every time Siena moves, her fists opening and closing. Siena sways slightly, soothing her.
I hand her the napkins and adjust the carrier on my own chest, smiling at Giovanna who is positioning tables exactly how she wants them.
She is wearing one of her twins, Aria, on her chest, and the other twin, Adriano is on mine.
He’s a lot heavier than he looks. Even though he was born the same day as his twin sister and cousin, he’s twice as solid, a compact little brick of a baby with Tommy’s dark brows and Giovanna’s mouth.
“I still can’t believe you two are here,” I say, for probably the fourth time. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Stop thanking us,” Oliva says with her big angelic smile. ”We told you: free food for free labor. We should be thanking you.”
“Do you have any idea the calories we need to eat for breastfeeding? We are starving!” Siena says with a laugh, not looking up from the shelf. “I ate an entire wheel of brie at 11 o’clock last night.”
“It wasn’t even a small wheel,” Giovanna adds.
Siena nods. ”It was not a small wheel.”
I laugh, pressing my cheek briefly to the top of Adriano’s head. He smells like talcum powder and milk. “I’ll always feed you. That’s a standing promise.”
“Good,” Olivia says. “Then we’ll do anything you ask.”
The Arsenal is almost ready. The details are falling into place just in time to bring in new staff for training the final week before opening. The final cleaning, the stocking of stations, food orders being processed—everything is coming together.
When the front door swings open, I look up, expecting to see a vendor, but instead Gavin fills the doorframe.
He’s carrying a paper bag from a deli one block over and wearing a grey coat that fits him perfectly. When he sees me, he freezes and his eyebrows shoot up.
“You have a baby,” he says.
“I do not have a baby,” I say.
He tilts his head at my chest. “That is a baby.”
“This is Adriano. He’s my little nephew.” I gesture toward Giovanna at the window, who gives a small wave. “I’m just the favorite auntie.”
Something softens in his expression. “Right,” he says, continuing toward me and surveying the room, taking it all in. “This place is something, Sophia.”
“It’s almost ready.”
“Almost.” He sets the paper bag on the nearest table and reaches into his coat pocket, producing an envelope.
“I came to show you these: signed copies of the supplier agreement for your friend, Carmela. There are already seven restaurants in addition to yours and four hotels who want her couture linens, and if she wants, she can supply our catering division as well.”
I take the envelope, press it to my chest. “Gavin. She’s going to lose her mind.”
“She’s talented,” he says simply. “It was an easy decision. Especially if it means you stop asking to break our contract, and I can see you regularly.”
I can feel the girls exchange a look then settle their amused gazes on me. I hand Adriano to Olivia and pull the papers from the envelope. Gavin waits, unhurried, hands in his coat pockets.
“And our updated linen agreement?” I ask.
He pulls the back pages from the sheaf of papers in my hands and lays them on top. ”Whenever you’re ready.”
I sign where I need to and hand them back to him.
He tucks the paper in his coat pocket then looks at me for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can.” I’m suddenly nervous. I haven’t talked to him since Vin cut in on us on New Year’s Eve.
“At the party.” He says it carefully, watching my face. “You went with Vin, but later, he was around and you weren’t. Is everything okay?”
The question is gentle, without accusation or irritation.
“I had a little too much to drink,” I say. “Called it early. Nothing dramatic.”
He nods like he doesn’t entirely believe me but lets it go, which I appreciate more than I can say.
“Fair enough.” He picks up the paper bag from the table and holds it out to me with a smile.
“I brought you something. I know it’s probably strange to bring a restaurant owner food, and it’s nothing compared to what you make, but it’s different at least: an Irish reuben from that deli we were talking about. ”
I’m about to say thank you and decline politely when I hear a gasp from across the room.
“Is that from Flanagan’s?” Siena asks. She stares at the bag with an expression I’ve only ever seen her direct at Matti and my osso buco.
“It is,” Gavin says, looking mildly startled by the intensity.
“Giovanna.” Siena says her name like she’s calling in reinforcements.
Giovanna turns from the window. Her eyes drop to the bag. “No.”
“Yes.”
“I just ate,” I tell him, laughing. “You should have it, honestly. Or—”
“I’ll give it to your friends.” Gavin’s eyes sparkle as he adds, “If you agree to go out with me.”
I open my mouth.
“Do it!” Siena says. She hasn’t blinked. “Sophie. I need that sandwich in my face. Right now. Immediately.”
“Seconded,” Giovanna says. “I will never ask you for anything ever again.”
“That is absolutely not true,” I tell her.
“No, it’s not,” she agrees. “But I’m asking you now. Please.”
I turn back to Gavin who is watching me with a smile, his eyebrows raised, waiting for the verdict. He is straight forward, simple, blissfully uncomplicated. Vin’s face immediately flashes through my hand. Dang it. I have to get that man out of my freaking head!
I breathe deeply. I guess one date wouldn’t hurt…
“Fine,” I say. “Yes. Let’s do it. But not until after the restaurant opening.”
Siena makes a sound that is practically animalistic as Gavin hands her the bag with a grin. “Agreed,” he says. “But am I permitted to attend the restaurant opening?”
Siena already has the sandwich out of the bag, handing half to Giovanna.
I laugh. “Open to the public. I can’t really stop you.”
I’m glad the girls are busy shoving the sandwich in their faces, because the smile slips from Gavin’s face as he places his hand over mine, his gaze intense. “You couldn’t keep me away.”
He doesn’t say another word as he leaves, and it takes me a second to compose myself. Not because I’m smitten but because he almost hit the same level of intensity that Vin gives me when he’s about to—
“He’s nice,” Giovanna says around a mouthful of pastrami.
“He is.” I busy myself tidying the linen contract he left for me.
“So what’s the problem?” Siena tears off a piece of rye bread and passes it to Giovanna, who takes it without looking and shoves it and a piece of wayward pastrami into her mouth. “He’s handsome. He’s successful. He’s clearly interested. He brought you food, Sophie.”
“He brought us food,” Giovanna points out.
Olivia chimes in. “He brought her food and then negotiated it into a date. That’s almost romantic.”
I’m folding napkins. I focus on getting the corners exactly even. “What do you want from me? I said yes.”
“You said yes like you were agreeing to a dental appointment,” Siena says with her mouth full.
“Siena.”
“Is it Vin?”
I keep folding. “No.”
“Sophie.”
“I don’t want Vin,” I say, which is true. Or it should be. “It’s that I need to… fully put it to bed before I can be fair to someone else. That’s all.”
Olivia cringes and Siena and Giovanna exchange a look.
“Anyone who marries that man,” Siena says, setting down the sandwich, “is going to have a miserable life.”
“You’re biased,” I laugh. “But thank you for trying to make me feel better.”
Giovanna shakes her head. “No, she’s right. I love Vin, I do. He’s an asshole, but I understand how he works. Siena is right. Anyone who marries him will have to share him with the Demonio Brotherhood and will be in constant danger.”
Siena shakes a piece of pastrami at me. “You deserve someone who will take care of you on every level. Someone who makes you feel safe all the time. That’s not Vin.”
I remember what safe felt like: the weight of his arm across my waist, his voice when he called me his, falling asleep with his cock in my mouth and his hands in my hair.
I shove the thought away, but not before the girls catch me, suspicion spreading across their faces.
“On top of the job he does, Soph, he’s a fucking mess,” Siena says.
Giovanna nods slowly. “It’s true. Aurelio’s been gone almost a year, and he still hasn’t set the funeral date.”
I startle, surprised. “What? I assumed that was done the week he died. That’s tradition.”
Siena shakes her head. “He won’t even set the date. Plan the details. The size of this thing is huge. It requires time to plan. It’s practically on par with the death of a king.”
“Has Matti or Tommy mentioned why?” I ask.
All three women shake their heads.
“But Tommy and Matti are both frustrated with him. He’s acting boss unofficially until Aurelio is buried,” Giovanna says.
I nod. The funeral is as much a welcome to the new boss as it is a farewell to the old one.
“But he also isn’t really doing boss things,” Olivia points out. “He’ll do the bare minimum to keep things going, but he’s not implementing any of the plans he said he would. And he’s been drinking more.”
“A lot more,” confirms Giovanna.
“That’s strange,” I say slowly. Vin must be under so much pressure. I can’t imagine him not taking the reins and taking over.
“That’s Vin,” Siena says. “Moody and weird is his baseline these days.” She shakes her head. “Anyway. It’s not our problem.”
“Mmmm.” I’m trying to agree but the sound comes out more like a question.
Siena levels a look at me. “Sophie. Go out with Gavin. Open this beautiful restaurant. That’s what matters right now. Whatever Vin is doing, fuck it. That is his to figure out.”
I glance around the restaurant, the light from the tall windows lighting the dark wood, glinting off the copper accents. Siena is right. This is what matters.
Whatever Vincenzo Demonio is or is not doing with his life can stay exactly where it belongs: far away from me.