Chapter 25 Amber
AMBER
Seven years later, Isle’s Gem is running so smoothly I almost forget how hard it was to get to this point. Almost.
It’s one of those nights where everything is in harmony.
The music is at the perfect volume, the crowd is lively without being obnoxious, and my bartenders are moving like they’ve been doing this their whole lives instead of, in one case, exactly four months.
I drift between tables, answering questions, laughing at jokes I’ve definitely heard before, intercepting problems before they have time to become actual problems.
A woman near the window flags me down, annoyed about her seat wobbling.
I crouch, adjust it, give the table a quick test, and by the time I stand back up she’s thanking me like I’ve performed a small miracle.
At the bar, someone’s arguing about whether their drink is technically a Manhattan.
I settle it with a smile and a free cherry. Peace is restored.
This is what I’m good at: reading the room, smoothing the edges, making people feel taken care of without letting them walk all over me.
The bar was Giovanni’s gift. The name gives him away. I was so happy when he gave it to me for our first anniversary, I broke down crying right on the porch, like a little girl at Christmas.
It was just the building at the time. An old bait shop ready to be repurposed just in the style I loved. Giovanni offered to deal with everything: bureaucracy, investments, all the nitty-gritty.
But I said no. I wanted to do the hard work. To make it mine.
I chose the vendors, fought for the permits, figured out marketing through trial, error, and one deeply regrettable promotional slogan. I trained the bartenders myself, drilled into them that confidence matters as much as skill, and that listening is half the job.
Right now, I’m standing behind the bar next to Maya, our newest hire, watching her build a cocktail.
“Easy on the pour,” I say. “You want generous, not reckless. There’s a difference. One that usually ends up splashing clients on the cuffs.”
She nods, adjusts, and sets the glass down. “Like this?”
“That’s better.” I offer her an encouraging grin. “You’ll be running the place in no time.”
“I doubt that.” She laughs. “But thanks. You’re very patient. The last boss I had threw a shot glass at me whenever I messed up an order.”
“Then he missed out on an excellent bartender and perfectly good equipment.”
Maya’s grin grows. Then her eyes flick to the small photo frame near the register. “Oh my God, are those your kids? They’re adorable!”
“They know,” I say fondly. “That’s Pearl on the left. She’s six and already running the household. Ruby’s five. Curious to a fault. And Diamond is three and believes rules are suggestions.”
Maya laughs. “How do you do this and have kids?”
“I outsource when possible,” I say. “Tonight, that’s my sister. She’s got them, I’ve got the bar, and everyone survives.”
I step away to check on a table. That’s when I hear that voice that fills my world with warmth. “One bourbon, please.”
It’s ridiculous what one word still does this to me, but here we are.
“Black Hill Maple,” I finish for him. “Purple label. Coming right up.”
I smile as I reach for the bottle. I don’t even turn around at first. I don’t have to. Seven years in, I know that voice better than my own thoughts.
I pour the drink neat, slide it across the bar, and stop it with one finger when it reaches him.
“Hold on,” I say. “There’s a cover charge.”
His mouth quirks. “Bribery?”
“Kiss,” I say, lowering my voice.
He leans over the bar and kisses me, warm and familiar and entirely unconcerned with the fact that half the room is pretending not to watch. “That’s extortion.”
“I learned from the smoothest criminal I know,” I murmur.
“Good.” He smirks. “Because this criminal has come to steal you away for dinner. Or have you forgotten?”
I admit, I almost did. Between everything, it’s hard to keep track of things. Even the ones that matter.
But I could never forget this. “Forgotten our seven-year anniversary? What kind of wife would I be?”
“The best,” he says simply.
I roll my eyes, but there’s fondness on my face. “Well, then I’m the bestest, because I absolutely do remember.”
Coral did me a huge favor taking the kids tonight. It’s been a while since Giovanni and I had some time to ourselves. And while I love those little munchkins more than anything, a couple needs fresh air and a tablecloth every once in a while.
And Savvy Bites has the best tablecloths in town, so that’s where we go every year.
Not to mention the best chef. No one cooks for you like an old friend who’s been with you in the trenches of Notte Bianca and experienced Donald’s outrageous management style.
Our trauma-bonding transcends career changes.
“Seven years?” Maya pipes up next to me. “That’s amazing. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. He hasn’t grown tired of me yet.”
“Never,” Giovanni says, like it’s the simplest truth in the world.
It warms my heart more than any liquor ever could.
I hand off the bar, grab my coat, and step out into the night with him.
The door closes behind us, muting the music, and the cool air hits my skin. Giovanni doesn’t let go of my hand. Instead, his thumb brushes slowly over my knuckles, like he’s reminding himself I’m real.
“You were watching me,” I note.
He doesn’t bother denying it. “What can I say? Old habits die hard. And you’re very good at what you do.”
I smile, leaning into him as we walk. “High praise. Should I frame it?”
“I’ll repeat it later,” he says, voice dropping. “Privately.”
Heat curls low in my stomach. Seven years, three kids, and he still does that.
I bump my hip into his. “Careful. We’re going out to dinner, not back upstairs.”
“For now,” he says.
I laugh, tipping my head back to look at him. “You’re incorrigible.”
“You married me anyway.”
“That’s on me,” I say lightly. “A lifelong lesson in consequences.”
He stops for half a second, just long enough to pull me in close and kiss me again, slower this time, his hand warm at my waist.
“Happy anniversary,” he murmurs against my mouth.
“Happy anniversary,” I echo.
We start walking again, fingers laced, Isle’s Gem glowing behind us.
Seven years ago, love felt like a gamble.
Now it feels like home.