Chapter 27
27
DARIO
Dario had spotted her the moment she’d walked in and for the first time today, he felt a tiny shred of happiness. Last time she was here was two years ago, and it had been a total shitshow, so he wasn’t surprised that they hadn’t come back last year. But here she was now, and on any other night, he’d be thinking the heavens were smiling on him, especially when he spotted the way her gaze flicked to him when he greeted them. Tonight, he just figured the heavens were playing some cruel, twisted joke. Not that he thought for a second that anything was going to happen between them. If it had, it would have been a long time ago. Nope, he’d resigned himself to the fact that she’d always just see him as a friend, and, well, it was better than nothing.
‘You know, I always thought she had a thing for you,’ Nicky said, nodding in the direction of his gaze.
He rolled his eyes, then took a step round to the side so that he was facing her. ‘Do you always sneak up on people like that?’ he asked her, feigning irritation.
It wasn’t lost on either of them that the minute they decided to call time on their marriage, they ceased to view the other as the most annoying person that ever lived, and went back to just being best mates. Expectations, that was the difference. She no longer expected him to prioritise her over his job – something he saw now that she had every right to want. And at the same time, he no longer expected her to understand that all he’d ever known was working fourteen-hour days in the restaurant, and he had been unable to change that.
‘Only when they’re my ex-husband and I like to mess with his emotional well-being,’ Nicky said with a wink, putting a tray of empty glasses back on the bar, and sliding a new drinks order over to Carlo, who was rattling them up like he’d been doing it forever. Which he actually had. ‘By the way, the four bottles of lager and the vodka and lemonade on this order are for Sonya over on table six. Her Ollie has some pals back from uni and she’s brought them all in to celebrate. They’ve said they’ll sneak Sonya into their student accommodation to live with them when she gets evicted. Which is, of course, the craziest thing you’ve ever heard… so she’ll probably do it. God, I’ll miss her.’
It struck him again how he felt exactly the same. Nicky. Sonya. Matty. His dad. All of it. He was going to miss having a reason to get up in the morning. Even if it was only to give his ex-wife someone to take the piss out of.
‘Me too. Can you comp that round of drinks for her, please?’ he said to Nicky, as she went off with the tray Carlo had already prepared for her, holding it above her head as she dodged through the tables.
They were almost full now, just three or four parties still to come in. The night always followed the same format. Food, drink, then as soon as service was over, about 10p.m., his dad would crank up the volume on the music. Then just before midnight, he’d climb up onto a chair and make a speech, then count down to the bells. Afterwards, he’d start singing one of his favourite songs, maybe ‘That’s Amore’. By the end of that tune, everyone would be joining in and then, over the course of the early hours of the morning, they’d get through all Gino’s Greatest Hits – a natty selection of Italian and Scottish tunes that invariably included ‘Caledonia’, ‘The Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond’, ‘Volare’, ‘O Sole Mio’ and ‘Shout’ by Lulu. It was an eclectic compilation that always got the customers up on their feet, singing, dancing and revelling in the party atmosphere.
Dario had taken the order Nicky had left behind, and was now holding a glass under the vodka optic, while Carlo worked another order, doing the work of two men without blinking. He was currently uncorking a new bottle of red, while simultaneously sliding out wine glasses from the brass rack above their heads. As soon as he started to pour, Carlo caught Dario’s attention. ‘Listen, I’ve been thinking about everything we were talking about earlier.’
Dario pulled out four bottles of Peroni from the fridge and put them on a tray next to Sonya’s vodka. ‘And now you’re as depressed as me?’ he quipped, conveying a sense of humour that he definitely wasn’t feeling right now.
‘Yeah, that too,’ Carlo agreed with a rueful smile. ‘But something else. Look, this probably isn’t the best place to talk about this, but given the time crunch, I want to lay it out there.’ He continued to work, putting a tray of drinks together as he spoke, nothing breaking his rhythm. They’d been doing this for so long that they could walk, chew chewing gum, hold a conversation and pour a martini all at the same time, without breaking a sweat.
Dario popped the tops off the Peroni bottles as he listened to what Carlo had to say.
‘I know I said earlier that I would always have a job for Matty in the kitchen over at the café, and that I’d welcome Dad playing a role on whatever terms he wanted to…’
‘And I appreciate that, I really do. It might just take a little bit of the sting out of this whole crap show for them. Although, looking at Dad’s face now, I wouldn’t bet on it.’
They both glanced over to where Gino was having dinner with his old friend Henry’s wife and even from here, they could see that he was just oozing sorrow and sadness. Neither of them was surprised. The two couples had a history that went back to the seventies. Mum and Minnie had adored each other, and Dad and Henry had a bond like brothers. Dario always thought Henry’s passing back in January had aged Dad ten years, and he wasn’t sure he’d recovered even now.
Carlo sighed, and Dario felt for him, because he knew his baby brother worried about Dad just as much as he did. Carlo took the two glasses of red wine and put them on the tray in front of him. ‘Okay, so I haven’t got to the bit I wanted to talk to you about yet.’
‘I’m listening,’ Dario told him, picking up another waiting order and tossing a slice of lime into a glass for a gin & tonic for table number 2.
‘Look, I just want to give you something to consider. You know I was saying earlier about the café being packed… sorry to rub that in…’
‘Don’t worry, I can take it,’ Dario assured him, full of jest, but he’d be lying if he didn’t wish this place was doing that well every day of the week too.
‘Well,’ Carlo went on. ‘One of the things I’ve got planned for this coming year is to open another one. Maybe two more.’
It was the first Dario had heard of it, but he couldn’t help feeling a wave of pride. With such a big age gap, their relationship had always sat between paternal and fraternal. This was like seeing your kid was about to rule the world and being so fricking happy for him. But then he paused… tonic half poured.
‘Carlo, you’re not about to suggest you take over this place, are you? Because, brother, that’s not the move. The rates and the bills here are sky-high, and the building needs so much work. And you know we’re not getting anywhere near the volume of people that we used to.’
It was a relief when Carlo shook his head. ‘No, no… God, no. For all the reasons you just said, and for a few more too. This just isn’t my business model. I look for places next to high-occupancy venues – that’s why I took the unit next to the hospital – but where there’s very little competition nearby. We’d get swallowed in this part of the city centre. Too many other options doing similar things.’
Dario nodded. ‘You’re not wrong. So where are you looking at?’
Carlo was onto three glasses of white wine and a porn star martini now. ‘That’s the thing, I haven’t found the right place yet, because I don’t have time to scout. The café is taking up all of my time and leaving nothing for development. So that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I know this is out of the blue, and I’m not expecting an answer now, but I want you to consider coming into business with me. A partnership. Between the two of us, we can run the current location, and that will also free up time to focus on expansion. When we get the second place open, you can use that one as your base, while we search for a third. Maybe by that time, Matty will take one, and we’ll move on to the next. I’m not saying all this is going to happen tomorrow, but I’m definitely seeing it as something that starts now and stretches over the next few years. I can’t do it on my own, and there’s no one I trust more, either in business or in life.’
Dario didn’t know if it was shock or intense gratitude that was suddenly making him feel emotional. This day, man. Just when he thought he was getting some grip in the sand, a big bloody wave came right for him. And it was the kindness again. Got him every time.
‘Carlo, I can’t even begin to tell you how much of an honour it is that you’re asking me this.’ For the second time today, he wondered if his mother was seeing how cool a guy her youngest son had turned out to be.
Carlo shrugged, as if it were nothing. ‘You’d honestly be helping me out too. I think we could achieve something special if we did this together.’
Dario didn’t disagree. Their temperaments had always complemented each other perfectly and what Dario had in experience, Carlo had in energy and ideas. They would make a pretty good team. ‘I think we could too…’
But then… His gaze went back to his dad. How could he be making plans to move on to a whole new chapter when he hadn’t closed this one yet? Especially when he knew that the ending of this story was going to wring out his heart?
Until his dad gave his blessing for this deal, then Dario couldn’t even begin to think about what came next.
‘Look, let me think about it, is that okay? I need to sort things out here first.’
Carlo was in no rush. ‘Of course. Take all the time you need. I just wanted to raise it now so you know you could have something at the end of this. Maybe take the pressure off a bit. You’ve helped me all my life, Dario. Not to do all that mushy shite, but it’s time I paid you back.’
‘You owe me nothing,’ Dario began to object, but Nicky slid back into the space in front of the bar.
‘What doesn’t he owe you?’ she asked, eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. ‘Whatever it is, I should have got half of it in the divorce.’
As he’d just been thinking, he’d miss her. Her boyfriend, Scott, was a lucky guy.
She barely paused for breath as she slid another tray of empties onto the counter, followed by an order for Carlo. ‘Table number 12. Gwen, Ailish and Rhonda would like three Slippery Nipples and I swear I didn’t put them up to that. They’re saying they’re the menopause version of Charlie’s Angels and, apparently, they’re reliving their twenties, so I might clock off early and go join them so we can all moan about how men couldn’t find the tickly bit back then.’
‘Nicky, we were married when you were in your twenties,’ Dario retorted, full of indignation.
‘Exactly,’ she giggled, before grabbing the tray with Sonya’s order and going back on her merry way, leaving Dario shaking his head and Carlo howling with laughter.
She’d only got a few feet away when she stopped, turned… ‘Oh and by the way…’ She nodded back over to the table where Ailish, Gwen and Rhonda were deep in conversation with his mate, Brodie, who’d known them almost as long as Carlo had. ‘I always thought you had a thing for her too. You should go tell her. You’ve got nothing to lose, and what’s the worst that can happen?’