Chapter 2 Garlic Knots and Good Company
Garlic Knots and Good Company
Eddie
“Look at that. Right on time.” I rub my hands together as the server carries over a tray of piping hot garlic knots, cold beer, and a surprise for my son.
Our server, Rachel, sets the food down with a grin, and I slide a glass toward Theo. “One cherry soda for the MVP of the team.”
Theo doesn’t miss a beat as he wraps both hands around the glass and takes a giant swallow through the straw. “Ahh.”
I chuckle, but fix him with a knowing stare. “Easy there, buddy. You don’t want a bellyache before pizza, right?”
But Theo pays me no mind. He’s far too busy enjoying his treat, especially since he only gets soda for celebrations and special occasions.
Today is both.
Not only did my little guy win the game for his team, but we have a friend celebrating with us.
And damn, Kiki needs a night out more than anyone I know.
She sits across from Theo and me, hunching her shoulders as if trying to disappear into the wooden booth. She focuses her gaze on the beer mug as her fingers trace paths along the condensation decorating the glass.
But she has yet to take a sip.
Ori and Ash knew Kiki before her fall from grace. They claim she was pure sunshine—witty and exuberant. A blast at parties and, rumor has it, intoxicating on the dance floor.
I don’t know her estranged husband, Drake, but I swear to God, I want five minutes alone with him. Not just because of the monstrous things he did to those innocent women, which is more than reason enough to bury his ass under the jail.
He stole Kiki’s life—and light—too.
“Works better if you drink it.” I shoot Kiki a smile, taking another swallow from my glass. “Kind of like this.”
“I don’t like beer.” Theo chimes in, scrunching his nose.
Kiki’s gaze flies upward to meet my son’s as a small smile crosses her lips. She leans in slightly, resting her forearm on the table. “Want to know a secret? I don’t either.” She chews her lip before daring to look in my direction. “Sorry.”
“Why didn’t you say something? They have wine here, too. Do you like wine?”
Kiki waves her hand, dismissing my question. “Don’t trouble yourself. This,” she hefts the mug, “is fine. Honestly, I really appreciate you letting me join the two of you.”
“Call me crazy, but I’d like you to actually enjoy the venture and not just tolerate it—or us.” I flag Rachel to the table and motion toward Kiki. “Can you bring her a glass of wine, please?”
“Of course. What would you like?”
Kiki hesitates, no doubt hating the attention. Too bad. She’s going to have a bit of fun tonight if it’s the last thing I do. “Um… a glass of merlot would be great.”
“Coming right up.”
Kiki’s eyes trail Rachel as she heads toward the bar. “You didn’t have to do that. The beer was fine.”
“It is fine. For me. I like beer.” I grab her untouched mug and slide it next to mine. “And now, I have a refill ready.”
“You’re a silver-lining kind of guy, aren’t you?” A slight sparkle dances in Kiki’s eyes.
Maybe she’s happy she’s getting a drink she actually enjoys.
Or maybe it’s because our server didn’t bat an eye when Kiki sat down. Not a glare or underhanded comment in sight.
That’s an added benefit of taking our maiden voyage into the adjoining county. In Sparkwood, everyone knows her face, and everyone has an opinion. That became clear at the ballpark earlier today.
Although Drake’s case is national news, the arrest was a couple of months ago, and let’s get real—most folks today have the attention span of a flea.
People in the rest of the state aren’t waiting with bated breath for Kiki to appear, just so they can toss out a well-aimed insult.
Kiki needs a little anonymity right now, and that’s what I’m trying to provide.
I grab a garlic knot, shaking a bit of the oil back onto the plate before popping it into my mouth. “Please tell me you eat garlic knots, at least. Otherwise, I’m not sure we can be friends anymore.”
Of course, it’s a joke, and for the first time since I’ve known Kiki, she gifts me with a genuine smile, complete with a dimple cutting across one cheek.
For a split second, I see her radiance simmering beneath the surface, and know immediately I’ll do just about anything to coax it out of her a million more times.
“I’ll admit that I spent a lot of years subsisting on lettuce and prayers, but I’d bet money the world is a happier place when garlic knots are involved.” A low moan escapes her lips as her teeth sink into the doughy goodness. “Mmm, I was right. Life is much better this way.”
“Yummy,” Theo concurs, his fingers and mouth covered in parmesan and garlic.
Another brilliant smile flashes across Kiki’s face. “So good, right?”
Our server brings over the glass of wine, setting it down with a flourish.
This time, there’s no hesitation as Kiki lifts the wine to her lips.
I cock a brow at her. “Better?”
“Much. Thank you… for all of this.”
I lean forward, resting my forearms on the table. “You’re going to make it up to me.”
Her eyes widen at my statement. “How so?”
“Tell me about yourself.”
She shakes her head, the all-too-familiar unease creeping back into her being. “Trust me, there’s not much to tell.”
“We both know that isn’t true. In fact, let’s go around the table. Each of us is going to share something.”
Look, I get I sound like a kindergarten teacher, but I’m genuinely curious about the woman sitting across from me, even though my request has undoubtedly terrified her.
Kiki fingers her collar and clears her throat, as if the air in the pizzeria has suddenly turned noxious. “You know plenty about me. You heard them today.”
“What I heard was a bunch of garbage from people who need a hobby.” Leaning across the table, I put my finger under her chin and lift her face until her gaze meets mine. “I want to know you, Kiki. Otherwise, I’m not giving you anymore garlic knots.”
To drive home my point, I drag the plate beyond her reach, but not before Theo reaches out to grab one.
My son holds it in both hands, like Gollum guarding his ring.
Yet again, my son’s antics bring out the softer side of Kiki.
“You’re lucky they’re fantastic garlic knots.” She leans against the booth with a sigh. “What do you want to know about me?”
“What is Kiki short for?”
“Katherine.”
“Hmm.” My gaze roves over her delicate features. “You look like a Katherine. You have an old-world beauty about you.”
Shit. I didn’t mean to blurt out that she’s beautiful, although I’m sure the woman has heard it countless times.
Despite everything she’s endured, the woman is a knockout.
She’s slight in stature, with long fingers that likely tickled piano keys.
Her wide brown eyes sit above an upturned nose and a pair of lips that I now know guard the greatest smile on the planet.
Dark hair with a tinge of gold tumbles about her shoulders, swinging when she laughs.
She needs to laugh more.
My job is to figure out how.
Kiki snorts. “Emphasis on old.”
“You are not old.” To be honest, I don’t know Kiki’s age, and I know better than to inquire or dally on the topic. “Have you always been called Kiki?”
“All my life. If we had met six months ago, the moniker would have fit.”
“So I hear.” I down another swallow of beer. “According to the Hammond brothers, you were sunshine mixed with a little hurricane.”
“Spot on descriptor.” Kiki averts her gaze. “I miss her.”
She doesn’t mean for me to hear those words, but here’s what she doesn’t know.
I miss her too, even though I never had the chance to know her.
No idea why I feel this innate protectiveness toward the woman. We aren’t really friends, but there’s something fragile beneath her stoic facade.
It’s the way she holds herself, as if terrified everything will fall apart if she dares to loosen her grip. That beneath the surface she’s broken into a million fragments, held together by sheer tenacity and whatever scraps of faith she has left.
Maybe it’s the carpenter in me wanting to repair the damage. I want to pry off the mask she wears, root out the wounded pieces of her spirit and help her shine again.
She deserves the opportunity.
Or maybe I’m just sticking my nose in her business. But she’s playing along, and that’s half the battle, right?
“Is it my turn?” Kiki asks, sipping her wine.
“The table is yours,” I reply, gesturing over the food.
She pivots in her seat and focuses all her attention on my son. “What’s your favorite subject in school?”
Theo grins, showing off the gap where his front tooth fell out last week. “Dinosaurs.”
As always, my kid works his magic.
Kiki throws her head back and laughs. Not some fake, half-assed laugh. This is the genuine article.
And it lights her up from the inside.
Good job, Theo.
Kiki leans in, skewing her mouth to the side. “What’s your favorite kind of dinosaur?”
“Hey,” I cut in. “That’s two questions.”
Kiki puts her finger to her mouth, fixing me with a dark mock glare. “Shhh, I’m chatting with Theo.”
And my son is all too happy to continue the dinosaur conversation. “Triceratops.”
“I like the stegosaurus. Do you like those too?”
Theo’s head bobs excitedly. “Yeah! I’ve got one of those, too.”
He grabs his backpack and pulls out four dinosaur figurines, setting them on the table for our inspection. His finger lingers on each one as he identifies them. “This is a brontosaurus. This is a triceratops. This is a stegosaurus. And this one…”
He scrunches up his face, trying to recall the name. “Dad, what is this one?”
“A velociraptor.”
Seems my dinosaur knowledge impresses Kiki.
She winks at me, biting back a grin. “Look at you, all into your Paleolithic era.”
I run a hand along my jaw, feeling a sheen of heat crawl up my neck. “Not hardly, but Theo loves dinosaurs, in case you didn’t notice.”
“Yeah, I kinda caught that, and I’m super impressed with both of you men.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever impressed a woman with my dinosaur knowledge before.”