Chapter 5 #3
“Thanks,” I say, already reaching for the biggest slice. I tear into it. It has a crisp crust and a warm, chewy center. The garlic butter brings out the faint tang of sourdough. I groan. Loudly. I don’t even care. It is delicious.
“Well, now,” a woman in a chef’s coat says as she approaches, amused. She looks to be in her early sixties, her dark hair streaked with silver. She smiles like she’s seen this reaction a thousand times and loves it every time. “Sounds like someone approves.”
My hand flies to cover my mouth in mortification.
She chuckles.
Andy has the last piece of bread pinched between his fingers. Derrick sheepishly lifts the now empty basket. “Lina, please tell me there’s more of this in the back. Preferably buckets of it.”
“Yes. Katie always makes extra for Mondays when she knows you lot will be here. But you’ll have to wait,” Lina chastises gently. “If I refill it now, you’ll ruin your appetite.”
“Yes we will,” Andy says proudly.
Leon elbows him. “Excuse these two black holes. They’ll wait.”
Lina winks. “I have four sons. They never grow out of the bottomless-pit phase.” She flips open her notepad. “Usual for you all? The family-sized spaghetti and meatballs?”
“For us, yes,” Leon says. “But Kaori needs a menu.”
Warmth pools in my chest. “If that’s what you recommend, that’s what I’ll get. Spaghetti’s perfect.”
“All right,” Lina says. “I’ll be right out with it.” She walks back to the kitchen.
I can already picture joining everyone here again. “Do you come here often?” I ask, wiping garlic butter from my fingers before I eat the napkin itself.
“Three times a week for lunch at least. It’s why I have this amazing dad bod.” Leon pats his rounded stomach while reaching for the water. “If I’m the office dad, Lina is the office mom. Although she calls herself their nonna.”
“Is that why the office always smells like garlic at lunch?” I ask.
“More or less.” Leon’s gaze drifts toward the porthole window mounted on the door that leads into the kitchen.
Inside, Lina is bustling around, her face warm and radiant in the glow of the ovens.
A faint flush creeps up Leon’s neck as he watches her.
I may not have much experience with romance, but this is a textbook case.
I glance at Derrick and Andy. They’re lost in an animated debate about which Mario Kart map requires more skill—apparently Rainbow Road equals coward’s choice. I lower my voice. “How long have you had a crush on Lina?”
Leon chokes on air. “I—what? No, I don’t.”
I raise a brow. He takes a very dignified sip like that settles it. It doesn’t. I file this away for future blackmail.
For his sake, I change the topic. “So . . . Riverton.”
“What about him?” Leon asks.
“Why was he such a beast this morning? What is so bad about traveling to the home office?”
Leon sighs. “It’s complicated.”
I frown. “How?”
He takes another long sip from his water. “Excelsior’s London office is the opposite of Orlando in every way. We’re sunshine and they’re all doom and gloom. If you’re sent there . . . it’s like having your soul sucked out.”
I snort. This has to be another one of his dad jokes.
“Nice try, but I’m not buying the dementor theory.
Do you want to know what I think? I think Riverton is a brilliant engineer who simply forgot to install the ‘People Skills’ update in his brain.
You said yourself this morning that he’s blunt and he means well, and I shouldn’t take things personally.
In my book, that’s just code for someone who doesn’t know how to play nice with the other kids in the sandbox.
So when he’s in London, he probably gets the same cold-shoulder treatment he gives off. ”
The kitchen doors swing open, and Lina emerges, pushing a cart loaded with the largest bowl of spaghetti and meatballs I’ve ever seen. “Here we are! One family special.”
“Lina, sorry, but something’s come up and I need my check,” a familiar British voice says from behind the tall booth divider.
My stomach drops.
“Oh, Theo, leaving already?”
The table goes still.
I turn slowly, like a woman facing Medusa, and lean rise just enough to see over the top of the booth behind us.
Yep, it’s not my imagination. It’s Theo Riverton.
He tilts his head, studying me with his unnerving green eyes.
They’re the color of malachite, one of my favorite stones.
I want to become a literal meatball and roll under the table
He folds his napkin, sets it aside, and rises. “Yes, I need to pack. I’m catching the red-eye out to Amsterdam.”
Lina clucks her tongue. “You’re traveling again? So soon? You just got back from London.” She gestures at his untouched plate. “Eat two bites first. Don’t make me chase you with a fork like I did my boys growing up.”
“I wish I could, but I really can’t.”
“I hope Mr. Harris appreciates all this.” She sighs, giving him a mom look with her hands on her hips. “Let me box this up for you. And some fresh cannolis. No arguing.”
He opens his mouth, but one more look from her silences him. It’s a look I need to learn.
“Thank you, Lina. I’ll be in the front, making a call.” He stands and strides out without a look back.
Of course I picked a fight with the one man who holds the keys to London—and possibly my future. Why couldn’t I have kept my mouth shut and my thoughts to myself? “Should I run after him and apologize?” I ask Leon.
“No, give him some space to cool down. Theo will get over it. He’s got thick skin. Pass the salt and pepper, please.”
“But I’m new, and I just said he lacked people skills and he heard me.”
“You were also venting off the clock to your friends. It’s allowed.”
“So there’s hope for me yet?”
“Mm-hmm.” Leon’s eyes twinkle. “But if you’re looking to make it up to him, I happen to know that the head of our office has a soft spot for Rocky Road candy bars. And if one or two happened to appear on his desk, let’s just say it would go a long way to help soften him up.”
Turning to help myself to some spaghetti, I realize that Derrick and Andy have gone quiet. Their dinner plates are still three-quarters full, but their attention is elsewhere. My eyes follow their sight line to the bar.
Two women sit perched on stools, laughing over a shared plate of calamari. One wears a white puffy-sleeved blouse and has auburn hair in a low ponytail. The blond sports a black Star Wars Celebration T-shirt and is currently using a breadstick like a lightsaber.
“Who are they?” I ask in a teasing tone.
“Amaya from accounting in the white blouse. And Ela from HR in the black shirt,” Andy says, not taking his eyes away from the pair. “They come here on Mondays and always order seafood and the house beer.” He jabs a thumb toward Derrick. “And he has a crush on Amaya.”
Interesting.
“Don’t throw me under the bus,” Derrick hisses. “You’ve got a thing for Ela.”
I blink at them. “So are you two going to talk to them?”
Both guys look horrified. “Talk?” Derrick squeaks. “To them? But they’re women.”
“News flash—I’m also a woman,” I deadpan.
“You don’t count,” Andy says. “You’re Kaori. You’re one of us. They’re”—he gestures weakly—“out of our league.”
“Ouch,” I say.
Leon turns his laugh into a cough. “A lesson for all you young padawan. Think before you speak.”
That’s a lesson I’m going to be taking to heart from now on. I know better. This is exactly why I’ve always been taught from birth to never make my opinions public. How could I forget it?
Andy frowns. “What did I say wrong?” He stares at me for several moments.
“Wait for it?” Leon says.
“Dude, you just implied Kaori wasn’t out of your league,” Derrick says.
“Ding. Ding. Ding.” Leon mimics a slot machine.
Andy’s cheeks redden up to his ears. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I never meant you weren’t as hot as them. Or . . .”
“Lesson two. Don’t say more than needs to be said. A simple apology will do,” Leon tells him.
I wonder if I should be writing all this down so I don’t suffer another case of foot-in-mouth disease again in the near future.
“I’m sorry,” Andy mutters, looking at the floor.
“It’s fine.” I shoot Leon a silent “stop being a troublemaker” look and clear my throat.
“Look, these women aren’t out of your league.
One of them is literally wearing a Star Wars shirt and quoting Yoda with a breadstick.
She’s one of our people. All you have to do is make eye contact, smile, and introduce yourself. The rest will take care of itself.”
Derrick looks stricken. “What if it doesn’t?”
“There’s always the weather.” I lean back, crossing my arms and studying them both. They glance wistfully toward Amaya and Ela again.
If I don’t push them to go talk to the women, their butts will stay glued to their seats like Han Solo encased in carbonite. Time for me to play a few of my own Jedi mind tricks. “Go talk to them, or I will personally walk over there and announce your crushes to half the restaurant.”
“You wouldn’t,” Andy whispers.
“Try me.”
“She means business, guys,” Leon says, helping himself to another serving of spaghetti.
Without another word, two chairs scrape back. They march to the bar like stormtroopers heading to inevitable doom. A shaky hello. A shared laugh. Amaya pats a stool. Ela waves them closer. They sit.
“The force is with them.”
“Yes, it is.” Leon sighs. “You’re trouble.”
“Maybe.” I grin, continuing to watch them. “But if it means results, who cares?”
He laughs. “That sounds like something Theo would say.”
I suppress a wince. I’m nothing like him.
Across the restaurant, Derrick makes Amaya laugh so loud, half the restaurant turns. Andy leans in close to Ela, talking animatedly about something undoubtedly Star Wars-related. A tiny spark of satisfaction warms me. Despite everything, despite him, tonight isn’t a loss.
My gaze drifts to the front counter, where Lina hands Theo two takeout bags. He takes hold of them and kisses her on the cheek. It reminds me of a grandson kissing his grandmother.
I continue to watch Lina pinch his cheeks and give him a small kiss in return. It stirs guilt within me. Theo was a jerk to me, but I didn’t have to be one in return.
I sink back against the booth and ask Leon, “Do you know what stores around here sell Rocky Roads?”