Prologue #2
5) Gabriel had already spent more time obsessing about Sean than he was willing to admit to anyone. He’d found the copycat’s Twitter account and Instagram and had proceeded to follow both, only to tweet himself that if you wanted the real On a Roll in LA, you had to come see him.
Sean, annoyingly, had not responded to the bait.
“You should just change your name back,” Tony said, as Gabriel stirred his tomato sauce, AKA his nonna’s “gravy,” in the enormous pot on the back of the stove.
“I do not want to change my name back,” Gabriel said between clenched teeth. “I asked you if you had any advice. That’s not advice. That’s a knife in the back.”
“Hey!” Tony said in mock outrage. “That’s not fair. I’m trying to help here.”
“What you’re trying to do is take his side,” Gabriel muttered. “He’s been here a week, and already everyone likes him better.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Tony argued.
“I saw him having a real friendly chat with Ash,” Gabriel said. Ash was his friend. Ash should be on his side. But instead, Ash had been talking and laughing between lunch and dinner with Sean.
And it was definitely not because Ren, his cousin who helped him at the truck, had proclaimed them a “cute new couple.” No sirree, he was definitely not jealous.
No way. Yes, Sean might be a little cute, a fact that Ren had pointed out half a dozen times already, until Gabriel had really wished that he could fire him.
But Lorenzo was his cousin, and Ren’s dad, Stefano—his father’s younger brother—would never forgive him.
And Luca? Luca, his oldest brother and officially now the head of the family since his parents had retired, would be down in LA in a flash, and the last thing Gabriel wanted was to deal with Luca’s profound inflexibility.
Okay, Luca was now the second to the last thing Gabriel wanted to deal with. The first? Definitely Sean Cooper. Sean was a complete asshole, even if he was an inadvertent one, and he was going to change his mind. Gabriel was going to make sure of it.
“Ash was trying to be welcoming and nice,” Tony said. “You know, after someone marched over to Sean’s truck and tried to intimidate him when he said he wouldn’t.”
Gabriel refused to feel guilty. “You’re just disappointed you weren’t present for said intimidation.”
“It’s alright,” Tony said. “Maureen, who runs the fish and chips truck? She was parked right next door and heard everything.”
Gabriel grimaced. “Of course she did.”
“Hey, if you’re going to be weirdly threatening just because the guy’s got the same name as yours, you’re gonna have to expect everyone to be talking about it.”
“I wasn’t . . .” Okay, he might have been. But who could blame him?
“Listen,” Tony interrupted him. “You’re the more established guy on the circuit. You had a lot of success last year. You put a lot of time and effort and money into rebranding. Maybe if he was also selling Italian sandwiches, make a big deal out of this, but now? You gotta let it go.”
There was no way Gabriel was letting it go.
“I just wanted to say that,” Tony said, before shoving his hands in his pockets and wandering off.
Gabriel had five minutes alone with his sauce, before Ren showed up.
Ren was, to put it mildly, a complete pain in Gabriel’s ass.
He was still not over the fact that along with the investment his family had made in the food truck, they’d also decided that if Gabriel was going to strike out on his own, he might as well take the most annoying member of the family with him.
Lorenzo Moretti—or Ren, as his family and friends called him—sauntered in, an innocent smile on his face that didn’t fool Gabriel for a hot second. In his experience, Ren was a complete and total brat, and wouldn’t know innocence if it came up and bit him.
“I saw your friend outside,” Ren said, leaning against the back counter.
Gabriel was not stupid enough to think that Ren meant Tony.
Especially because if he’d been referring to Tony, he’d have said something like, your really hot friend who I’d love to hook up with.
When they’d started the season, Gabriel had thought that was the most difficult situation he’d have to deal with: Ren and his endless crush on Tony.
“Your blond friend,” Ren added slyly. “He looked like he missed you.”
“Like a hole in the head, probably,” Gabriel muttered. “I didn’t realize he was going to be here today. He wasn’t on the list they released a month ago.”
“New and exciting truck? Yeah, I’m sure they added him after,” Ren said, opening the tiny closet in the front of the truck and pulling out his navy blue apron, emblazoned with the new logo that Gabriel had spent so many hours laboring over.
Gabriel made a face.
“He might be new, but he’s not exciting,” Gabriel insisted.
Ren shot him a pitying look. “You just keep telling yourself that.”
“I am,” Gabriel said. “And I’m also going to figure out a way to convince him to change the name of his truck.
We can’t both be On a Roll. What if someone has a hankering for a really good meatball sub, and then they accidentally head to his truck and end up with a mouthful of weeds? That’s a problem.”
“It’s not just weeds,” Ren sniffed.
“Oh, so you’re an expert on his menu now, huh?” Gabriel asked. Of course Ren had tried the competition. He’d sampled the food—and flirted—with nearly every truck owner they’d ever run into. At least all the queer male ones.
“He’s cute,” Ren said. “Maybe not as cute as Tony, but he’d do in a pinch.”
“I didn’t think blonds were your type,” Gabriel said, rolling his eyes.
“They’re not, but he gets under your skin, so I’d be happy to make an exception.”
“Ugh,” Gabriel complained. “You suck.”
“Yes, yes, I do, and really well too,” Ren teased.
“Ew.”
“So that’s a no, you don’t want me to hook up with the cute copycat and use my extensive persuasive powers to convince him to change his name?” Ren raised an eyebrow. “I thought you’d jump at that chance.”
“No, you didn’t,” Gabriel said. The only thing that would be worse than Sean existing, would be Sean hooking up with his cousin.
“Okay,” Ren said, laughing. “Fair enough.”
“What I need you to do is get the caprese stuff prepped, and the veggies prepped. I’m going to make meatballs in a few.”
“Veg is already done,” Ren said. “I finished it already.”
The only other reason why Gabriel continually resisted his urge to fire Ren—other than a fierce need to avoid his elder brother—was that Ren, when he put his mind to it, was actually fairly efficient.
He did spend more time flirting than taking orders, sometimes, but he was good with prep. Quick and kept his head down. Most of the time, anyway.
“Oh good,” Gabriel said. He turned off the burner under the sauce.
“You’re leaving?” Ren raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were making meatballs.”
“I am. I’m . . . I have something I need to do first.”
“Go badger the poor copycat?”
“No,” Gabriel insisted. Yes.
“Alright, then. Have fun,” Ren said with a smirk.
It was not fun, Gabriel thought as he walked across the field to where the bright white and red logo of Sean’s truck was calling him like a beacon. It was a necessary action, born of frustration and annoyance.
He was definitely not looking forward to seeing Sean again.
No way.
Sean was outside his little truck this time, setting out plasticware and cleaning off the stainless steel counter under the window.
He was slim, but his hips curved under his jean shorts, and that annoyingly jaunty white apron, which Gabriel hadn’t gotten quite a full look at, was tied precisely around his waist.
The logo was annoyingly right there, right in the center of his chest. Gabriel found he couldn’t quite look away.
“Oh,” Sean said, after glancing up, “it’s you again.”
“Gabriel,” he said through gritted teeth. “It’s Gabriel Moretti. You know, the guy you copied.”
“I didn’t copy anyone,” Sean said, seemingly still unconcerned. “You just changed your name, which you failed to mention last time we spoke, by the way, and I’m brand new. It’s just . . . a rather unfortunate coincidence.”
“Rather unfortunate?” Gabriel thought it was a hell of a lot worse than that.
But Sean just shrugged. “We’re serving such different things. Does it really matter?”
“Yes, it matters!” Gabriel said, trying very hard not to explode. “I’ve got a reputation, and I’ve worked hard for it and . . .”
“And you don’t want me borrowing it just because we have the same name.” Sean gave a sharp nod. “I understand. Except that I work plenty hard too, and maybe, in a few weeks, or a month, it’ll be you trading on my name.”
“That’s never going to happen,” Gabriel scoffed.
“Maybe. Maybe not. You’ll have to stay tuned to find out,” Sean said lightly. He turned to go back into the truck.
“That’s not . . . no,” Gabriel said, and before he could stop himself, he reached out to catch Sean’s arm.
Sean shrugged it off easily, even though he was a few inches shorter, and definitely didn’t seem to have the same muscular bulk that Gabriel prided himself on. “I’m afraid,” Sean said with complete disdain, “you don’t get a vote here. Not at my truck. And not in my life.”
Okay, so that confrontation had not gone quite as Gabriel had expected.
He had also not expected to return to his own food truck, and after making about a thousand meatballs, check his phone only to realize that Sean had followed him back.
He’d also had the nerve to tweet, “Looking to stay on track with your new beach body? Make sure you visit the other On a Roll for more diet-friendly options.”
Gabriel couldn’t pretend it was insulting—he made zero apologies for his meatball subs.
They were delicious but that was because they were full of carbs and cheese and meat with a high fat content.
Still, it was annoying to see that Sean had already picked up a way he could market his own truck more effectively.
“You’re glaring again,” Ren said as Gabriel formed meatballs with an ice cream scoop, setting them in long rows on the baking tray.