46. Kaitlyn
FORTY-SIX
Kaitlyn
WENT brOUGHT ME TO HIS FATHER’S RESTAURANT.
As soon as I realize it, I start to panic. Because he’s always been able to read me like a book, Went looks at me across the dark interior of his car and cuts off my obvious questions with a tight head shake.
“It’s not a big deal,” he tells me, right before the valet opens his car door.
He’s wrong.
It’s a big deal.
It’s a very big deal.
I open my mouth to tell him exactly that but before I can get it out, my own car door is opened and a different valet is gently pulling me out of my seat to deposit me onto the sidewalk where Went is already waiting for me.
“It’s okay.” Still reading me like a book, Went presses a hand against the small of my back to herd me toward the restaurant’s heavy, smoked glass door. “It’s Monday. He won’t’ be here.”
Hearing him say it makes me feel better—but it doesn’t last long because the moment I see the hostess smiling at us from behind her sleek podium, I recognize her.
“I was wondering if you were really going to show up,” Went’s sister says with a laugh. Stepping out from behind her station, she meets us halfway. “I was starting to think you stood us up.” Looking at me, the stunning brunette with curves to die for and the most luminous gray eyes I’ve ever seen, offers me her hand. “I’m Silver—Went’s sister.”
I know.
Because I’m not supposed to know, I don’t say it out loud. Taking her hand, I force a smile onto my face. “Nice to meet you, I’m Kait. I’m a… friend of his.”
When I say the word friend , Went’s hand, still pressed into the small of my back, grips itself in the fabric of my coat and the muscle running the length of his jawline twitches.
“Us?” He looks at his sister like he’s hoping he might have heard her wrong.
Pulling her hand away from mine, Silver winces slightly. “I didn’t tell him, I swear.” Shaking her head, she gestures for me to give her my coat. “I’ll check that for you,” she says, trying to avoid her brother’s looming death glare. “It can get warm in the kitchen.”
“ And the chef’s table?” He looks at his sister like she’s committed the ultimate betrayal.
“Not my idea.” Silver gives him a helpless shrug. “You know how he is. He?—”
“Yeah—I know exactly how he is. Keep your coat on,” he orders me through clenched teeth. “We’re leaving.”
“If you didn’t want to run the risk of seeing him, why did you book a reservation in the first place?” Silver says, suddenly every inch the irritated little sister. “It’s his restaurant, for Christ’s sake.”
“Because it’s supposed to be his day off and this is the one restaurant in the entire fucking city that I knew he wouldn’t be at,” Went shoots back, clearly just as irritated as she is.
“Well, like I said—I didn’t tell him.” Hands on her hips, Silver glares up at him. “Jean Luc must have seen your name in the book and?—”
“It’s fine.” Giving his face a rough swipe, Went looks down at me, the awkwardness between us momentarily forgotten. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay…” Shaking my head, I offer him a reasurring smile. “You can take me home. We’ll just?—”
“No.” That muscle in his jaw twitches again. Looking at his sister, Went sighs. “Do you have anything available that isn’t in the direct line of fire?”
Silver frowns up at him like she wants to keep arguing. Instead, she gives him a stiff head nod. “I have a private dining booth available but fair warning, you’re going to have to pick your poison—Astrid’s in the main dining room.”
When Silver says Went’s mother’s name, it takes everything I have to keep myself from bolting for the door.
“Of course she is,” Went says on a heavy sigh while he seems to weigh his options. Finally, he shakes his head. “I’ll take my chances with Astrid.” Looking down, he offers me a pained smile. “Appearances are everything to my mother, she’d rather die than cause a scene.”
“Okay.” Even though it’s anything but, I can’t object without having to explain why. Unbuttoning my coat, I pull it off so I can hand it over to Went’s sister. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” She gives me a smile before handing my coat off to an attendant that seems to materialize out of nowhere. “Now, if you’ll follow me,” she says before turning away to lead us down a long hallway that opens up into the kind of restaurant you see on TV. Gorgeous, crystal chandeliers suspended from soaring ceilings. Shimmering wallpaper that catches the light and gives the entire room a beautiful, golden glow. Impeccably dressed waitstaff that move with precision and grace. Doing my best to keep my gaze focused on the woman in front of us, I have to fight the urge to run again. The only thing that’s stopping me is the press of Went’s enormous hand against the small of my back and the fact that if I try to do anything other than put one foot in front of the other in these stupid heels, I’ll fall flat on my face.
“You look beautiful,” Went murmurs softly while we weave our way through the dining room, more than a few sets of eyes trailing after us as we go. “I meant to tell you earlier but…”
But you read my bucket list again and know that I’m still in love with you.
“Thank you.” Giving him a small smile, I do my best to avoid eye contact. “So do you.”
Stopping in front of a wide mahogany pocket door, Silver opens it to reveal a small, wood paneled room that houses a large, circular leather booth. “Micah will be your dedicated waitstaff. He’ll be with you shortly,” she says before moving out of the way so Went and I can slide into our seats. As soon as we’re seated, she closes the door and we’re alone.
“Silver’s his favorite,” he tells me, dark gaze trained on the beautifully set table between us. “She’s never understood…” Grimacing slightly, Went shakes his head. “Never mind. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t?—”
Reaching for him on impulse, I brush my fingers against the compass tattooed on the back of his hand, its needle pointing north. “She never understood what?”
When I ask, that muscle tics in his jaw again and for a second, I’m sure he’s not going to answer me or maybe tell me to mind my own business. That I gave up the right to ask him questions like that a long time ago. Instead he looks up at me with a smile that looks like it might hurt. “What it’s like to look at him and see disappointment.” The smile turns into a grimace. “The sons he left behind in Italy when he came to America were loyal to their mother and so was Damien. None of them wanted anything to do with him because of the way he treated them. Parker is the youngest of us. Only sixteen, so that leaves me.” The hand beneath my fingers twitches. “I disappoint them both, but for different reasons.”
“I don’t believe that.” Tracing the tip of my finger around the face of the compass, I shake my head on a frown. “There’s nothing about you that’s even remotely disappointing.”
Turning his hand over, Went laces his fingers through mine on a sigh. “Then why did you leave?”
His question, completely out of nowhere, yanks my gaze up from where our hands are joined to find him looking at me with the same expression he wore when I walked into my living room and found him in front of the drawing he did of me and Two-tone. My notebook, full of things I’ll never be brave enough to do, open between us.
“I told you,” I say, my voice surprisingly steady considering I’m practically vibrating with the urge to run. “I realized that it was never going to work.”
“Maybe I missed something, Sunshine…” The corner of his mouth kicks up in a humorless smirk. “But it seemed to be working just fine before you left.”
“You don’t marry someone because you feel sorry for them,” I tell him, trying to pull my hand away from his. “And you sure as hell don’t marry them just because you like to fuck them, either.”
When I try to pull my hand away from his again, Went tightens his grip on a barely there head shake. “Come again?”
“Respect. Honor. Support.” I practically spit the words that have been chasing themselves around my head for the last six years in his face and when I do, his grip finally slackens. Rather than take my hand and run, I stand my ground. “ Those are the vows you made to me—Love was never mentioned.” Looking away, I remind myself that I’ve run long enough. “I know you saw it,” I tell him, pulling my hand from his. “I know you read my bucket list—again.” Shaking my head, I look away from him. The look he’s giving me because if I have to look at it for one more second, I really will run. “I am sorry I left without saying goodbye and I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to stand up to my father on my own. I’m sorry that I was selfish enough to let you make my mess your problem. I’m sorry I nearly cost you everything and I’m sorry I fell in love with you, Went. It was something I never meant to do.”