Chapter 2 No Flirting During Prep #2
Her eyes lifted. It was wrong, too soon, and too public.
He knew it as soon as the nickname left him.
Sophia’s face went pink, but not all in a happy way.
More like she had been pulled into the center of the room when she wanted to stay at the edge.
Victoria appeared behind her, again. Did she teleport?
“Her name is Sophia,” Victoria said.
Vinny set down the spoon. “I know.”
“Then use it.”
Sophia turned slightly. “Victoria.”
“I’m saying.”
“I know what you’re saying.”
Vinny looked at Sophia. She wasn’t looking at him now. That was when he knew he had gone too far.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Sophia.”
Victoria still looked ready to remove him from the building with a bread basket.
Sophia nodded once. “It’s fine.”
It didn’t sound all right. She took the plate and left. Vinny stared after her.
Gia came up beside him and bumped his arm with her elbow. “Nice. Very smooth. Like tripping in front of the whole room.”
He looked at her. “I know.”
Her teasing softened when she heard his tone.
“Hey,” she said. “She doesn’t hate it.”
Vinny looked toward the dining room. “Could have fooled me.”
“She hates everyone noticing it.”
That was different. That felt true.
He let out a breath. “Yeah.”
“Also Victoria may eat you.”
“Also true.”
Gia picked up a stack of plates. “For what it’s worth, if she really hated the nickname, she would have told you.”
Vinny glanced at her.
Gia shrugged. “Sophia is quiet, not helpless. People mix that up because they’re dumb.”
He thought about that. Sophia was quiet, not helpless. It was a good line. Too useful for Gia. She must have meant it. Before he could answer, Antonia’s voice came from behind them.
“Vinny.”
He turned. Antonia’s face was calm. That was bad.
“Office,” she said.
Now? During prep? His stomach dropped. Gia mouthed, Dead man.
Vinny followed Antonia into the small office off the kitchen.
It smelled like paper, coffee, and the rosemary bread Antonia had hidden from Gia earlier because Gia claimed bread kept morale alive.
The schedule was pinned to the wall. A stack of invoices sat near the computer.
Brett’s jacket hung on the back of the extra chair, which somehow made the room feel more serious.
Antonia closed the door but didn’t sit. Neither did Vinny.
She crossed her arms. “What are you doing?”
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Working?”
“Try again.”
“Trying to work.”
“Closer.”
He looked down. That was the worst part. He had no good defense. He had been distracted. Antonia had seen it. Everyone had probably seen it.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“For not focusing.”
“And?”
He looked up. Antonia waited. She wasn’t mad like his mother got mad, fast and loud and worried underneath. Antonia was quieter. That made him want to stand straighter and also maybe leave the country.
“For making Sophia uncomfortable,” he said.
Antonia nodded once. “Did you?”
“I don’t know.”
“That means maybe.”
His stomach twisted. “Yeah.”
“She works here.”
“I know.”
“You work here.”
“I also know that.”
“This isn’t a hallway outside a club. This is my kitchen.”
“I know.”
“And Sophia isn’t someone for you to entertain yourself with because service is slow.”
The words hit hard.
His head came up. “That isn’t what I’m doing.”
Antonia held his gaze. “Then prove it by not making me guess.”
He had no answer. Because she was right. Not about Sophia being entertainment. Never that. But about the guessing. About how it looked. About how Sophia probably felt when he said Soph in front of everyone like he had some claim to a piece of her name.
“I like her,” he said.
The words came out before he could make them sound casual. Antonia’s face didn’t change much.
“Clearly.”
“No, I mean—” He stopped.
How did he mean?
He liked Sophia’s smile. Her laugh. The way she acted offended when he called tiramisu “emotional pudding.” The way she got quiet when she was thinking. The way she softened around little kids in the dining room.
He liked more than he knew what to do with. That was the problem.
“I don’t want to mess with her,” he said finally.
“Good. Then don’t.”
“I’m trying.”
“Trying starts with boundaries.”
He nodded.
Antonia leaned back against the desk. “Sophia is young.”
“So am I.”
Antonia gave him a look.
“I know,” he said. “Not like that.”
“She is careful. She gets quiet when she is uncomfortable. That means you need to pay attention before she has to spell it out for you.”
Vinny swallowed.
“I will.”
“And if she says no, or not now, or looks like she wants space, you give it to her.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He wanted to say yes. He also remembered the nickname slipping out twice because he liked how it sounded.
“Maybe not as well as I should.”
That answer seemed to land better than a better answer would have.
Antonia nodded. “There you go.”
He let out a breath.
“This doesn’t mean you can’t talk to her,” Antonia said. “I am not making Bella Luna a convent.”
Despite himself, Vinny smiled.
“Don’t smile yet,” she said.
He stopped.
“I am saying if you want to pursue her, you do it with respect. And not while plates are dying in the window.”
“Yes, chef.”
“And not during rush.”
“Yes.”
“And if Victoria comes after you, that is your problem.”
He blinked. Antonia’s mouth twitched. That was the only sign she was joking, probably.
“Yes, chef,” he said again.
She opened the office door. “Good. Back to work.”
Vinny stepped out feeling like he had been scolded, spared, and handed homework all at once. Gia was waiting by the prep counter.
“Well?” she whispered.
“I lived.”
“Barely?”
“Barely.”
“What did she say?”
“To stop being an idiot.”
“Solid management.”
“And not flirt during rush.”
Gia’s eyes lit up. “Oh, good. A rule. This will go badly.”
“Don’t help.”
“I never help.”
“That isn’t true. You help in the worst possible direction.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
Vinny went back to his station. Sophia wasn’t at the pass, which was good and bad at the same time.
He needed to apologize, but first he needed to work.
This was exactly why Antonia had pulled him into the office.
He grabbed a knife and started chopping parsley with more focus than parsley deserved.
In the dining room, Sophia watched him through the round window in the kitchen door.
Maybe not on purpose, or not entirely. His head was down, his shoulders set, and his knife moved fast and neat, with no grin and no jokes.
Antonia had talked to him. Sophia knew because Vinny had come out of the office looking like someone had been told Santa was disappointed in him.
She shouldn’t feel bad. He had made things awkward.
Twice. Maybe three times. But she did feel bad.
Not because Antonia talked to him; Antonia should have talked to him.
Bella Luna was work. Sophia liked her job.
She didn’t want to become a problem. She felt bad because Vinny looked embarrassed.
And because part of her had liked hearing Soph.
That was the most annoying part. She had hated that nickname for years.
Her father tried it once when she was eleven, and she told him Sophia was already short enough.
Her mother used it exactly one time and stopped when Sophia went quiet at the breakfast table.
Victoria never used it because Victoria knew better.
Then Vinny said it in a walk-in cooler, and somehow it didn’t feel like someone making her smaller.
It made Vinny feel closer than anyone else using it had. Which was dangerous.
Victoria stepped into her line of sight. “You’re staring.”
Sophia blinked. “No, I’m not.”
“You were staring through that little window.”
Sophia picked up a water pitcher. “That is very specific.”
“I’m observant.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“I can be both.”
Sophia moved toward table four. Victoria followed because apparently they were doing this while walking now.
“He got in trouble,” Victoria said.
“I know.”
“Good.”
Sophia glanced at her. “You don’t have to sound happy.”
“I’m not happy. I’m reassured.”
“That isn’t much better.”
Victoria lowered her voice as they passed a table. “I just want him to know people are watching.”
Sophia stopped near the service station. “I can handle myself.”
“I know.”
“You say that, but sometimes you don’t act like it.”
Victoria’s face changed. Sophia regretted the words and didn’t regret them at the same time.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “That came out harsher than I meant.”
Victoria leaned against the side counter. “No. It didn’t.”
Sophia looked at her.
Victoria shrugged, but her eyes were serious. “You meant it. That’s allowed.”
Sophia gripped the pitcher handle.
“I know you’re trying to protect me.”
“I am.”
“I love you for it. But I am not breakable.”
Victoria’s mouth twitched. “You are a little breakable.”
“Victoria.”
“Sorry.” Victoria lifted a hand. “Bad joke.”
Sophia looked toward the kitchen again. Then back at her best friend.
“I don’t want everyone deciding what I can handle before I even know,” Sophia said.
Victoria went quiet.
“I’m scared for you,” she said finally.
“I know.”
“But I’ll try not to decide everything for you.”
Sophia nodded. “Thank you.”
Victoria glanced toward the pass. “Unless he acts stupid.”
“Fair.”
Her mouth twitched. “Or calls you Soph in front of me again.”
Sophia’s face warmed, and Victoria sighed. “Exactly.”
By the time service ended, Sophia was tired in a way that felt more mental than physical.
Avoiding Vinny took planning. Looking at Vinny took no planning at all.
That seemed unfair. She was wiping menus at the hostess stand when Vinny came out of the kitchen with a trash bag in one hand and a careful expression on his face.
Careful looked strange on him, but not bad. He stopped several feet away.
“Hey.”
Sophia kept wiping the menu. “Hi.”
“Can I talk to you for a second?”