Chapter 22
Carmello
Now
My skin is still hot. Something I should’ve anticipated sitting so close to Olivia.
She kept absentmindedly brushing her leg against mine while answering questions, and beneath the table I was already hard as hell, pressed against my pants and aching, before the flashbacks hit of our first time and the fantasies of what it’d be like if we did that now that we’re more experienced.
I shut my eyes for a second, clear my head, and finally unlock the door.
Teddy’s got a stuffed animal the size of his body with him when he walks into Celia’s.
He leans his forehead against me, a quick hello, before he sees Olivia.
She gives him a big smile, and he high-fives my dad before he heads over to her.
My dad grumbles something about it under his breath, then offers Olivia a wave.
She responds in kind, then fixes her attention on Teddy, gushing over his giant giraffe, before he tells her he beat my dad in bowling twice.
My heart is in my throat watching them, and I can feel my father watching me.
I meet his eyes. “What is it?”
He nods toward the kitchen. “Let’s talk.”
I know by the look on his face what he wants to talk about: me and Olivia.
Working late. The room dim. No one else around.
When she first showed up, he said it was better to work on business deals in person anyway, but when I updated him that she was staying awhile to help with the event night, I could feel his temper radiating through the phone.
He hasn’t lectured me yet. Might as well get it over with.
I lock the door to Celia’s Place again and tell Teddy I’ll be back in a second. He ignores me to read Olivia’s cards.
My father walks all the way to my office for privacy. When I shut the door, his tone is calm, but his words come quickly. “Have you had paperwork drawn up with a lawyer for her to sign over her shares?”
I’m pretty sure if I drew up papers right now Olivia would have no issues signing them early.
But it feels rude to rush when she’s helping me, and there’s something deeper there too.
Every time I think of having a lawyer do it, my stomach squeezes.
Something tells me to wait. I tell my father I haven’t had the time but that I will soon, so this conversation doesn’t go on longer than it must.
“But you have time to cozy up with her in a booth?” he says.
There’s a beat of silence between us. I feel like a teenager being reprimanded for not focusing on my future again.
His hands tremble slightly when he runs them over his silver-gray hair.
This situation has been stressing him more than I knew.
“What if she changes her mind and wants to keep the shares after she helps see this event night of yours through?”
“She won’t,” I say.
“You really trust her with all of this?” he asks.
“If I trust her out there alone with my son, what do you think?” His face twists into something like a scowl. In both of my cultures, I was taught not to disrespect my elders. I sigh and say, “Lo siento, Pa. I’m just tired tonight. But you don’t have to worry about Olivia.”
“I’m more worried about you and your soft heart.”
I grind my teeth together, trying to keep patient. “I know what I’m doing, Pa.”
“Let’s hope so,” he says, lowering his voice.
“I’d hate for you to get caught up in her pretty face and forget who she’s always been.
She’s proven to be impulsive in the past. Don’t count on her saying she’s changed, get blindsided by feelings you might have for her, and forget this is about business.
You’ve worked hard here since you were young.
” He releases a long exhale. “Anyway, let me say bye to my grandson before you take him home.”
As I follow him to the front, I process the words I wished for him to say when I was a kid.
Back then, he was convinced that I was making a mistake choosing a career path as a chef instead of one that’d make me more money.
Now I realize his fear of me losing any control here is more than just the principle of it; it’s because he’s proud of me like he was proud of my mom.
Something about that makes me a little less frustrated with the pressure he puts on me.
***
Even after I leave Celia’s Place with my pop’s warning about Olivia ringing in my head, my body feels like it’s being pulled in her direction.
I’m driving Teddy home, and I make an accidental left like I’m heading to the Airbnb she’s renting instead.
It’s been comfortable talking with her this week, and her presence has been appreciated, but we haven’t been physically close since we sat on Fountain Street after the food truck event.
I know what I said to her about keeping our distance, but after sitting in the booth with her tonight, I wonder if I can control myself.
The voice in my head keeps saying she’ll be gone soon anyway, so what’s the harm in being closer?
I can’t stop the intrusive thoughts until I pull up to Daniela’s house and see her on the front porch, trying to reach the overhead light.
I’ve been meaning to change the bulb out but keep forgetting.
When we get out of the car, she squeezes Teddy and helps him name his giraffe.
Then, she sends him inside to pick a movie for them to watch.
When I’m done switching the bulb, I see how much the simple action lit up Daniela’s face.
She’s self-sufficient in so many ways, and I’m sure she would’ve changed it herself with some determination, but I like helping in any way that I can.
And now that Connor’s not in the picture, I want to be able to anticipate some of the things I don’t usually do but that might make her life a little easier.
We say good night to each other, but then Teddy pushes his face against the mesh bottom of the storm door. With his nose flattened, he oinks at us. “Daddy, movie night, please?”
I’m beat, and I’m sure One Piece is annoyed I’m not home by now, but I’ll explain to him that his favorite human was giving me puppy eyes. Daniela looks excited by the thought too. We haven’t done anything like this all together in a while. “Depends on what movie,” I tease.
He enunciates, “Mufasa,” like they do in the live-action version, and I wonder how much sugar my father gave him that he still has this much energy.
“We’ve watched it, like, seven times,” I say. “But you know I can’t resist that one.”
***
A quarter through the movie, Teddy falls asleep cuddled up near Daniela on the big couch, so I lift him from her arms and bring him to bed.
He’s a heavyweight sleeper, stays in the same position I lay him down in, still hugging his giraffe.
His mouth is wide open and I’d tease him tomorrow about swallowing spiders while he sleeps, but knowing my boy it’d give him nightmares.
I kiss his head, say, “Stay safe, son,” like I do every single day or it doesn’t feel right.
When I go back to the living room, Daniela’s folding the blanket on the couch. The room is darker with the TV off, but there’s a light coming from the kitchen. While I’m standing by the door, I say, “He was exhausted. I’m surprised he lasted that long after the day he’s had.”
“I’m not,” she says, picking up the popcorn bowl from the table and taking a few steps toward me. “He loves that movie, and he was happy that you were here watching it too. But I am surprised you lasted as long as you did. I saw you scrubbing at your eyes to keep awake.”
“I’m tired as hell,” I admit. “Might have to skip my run tomorrow and get an extra hour.”
“You could…sleep here if you want,” she says softly.
I start to laugh, thinking she’s joking.
We’re friends, but we agreed early that we wouldn’t cross that line while co-parenting, so we don’t confuse Teddy or ourselves by introducing something that could become a habit.
I’ve had plenty of late nights here where I’ve nodded off on the couch, but I’ve always woken up and taken my ass home.
“You’re serious?” I ask.
She shrugs one shoulder. “It wouldn’t be that big of a deal, would it?”
“I just…Where is this coming from?”
She hugs the popcorn bowl close to her chest, and there’s that same nervous energy she had when she came to pick up Teddy from Celia’s last week. Something tells me she had more on her mind that day than just wanting me to know Connor isn’t in the picture.
“I’ve been thinking lately,” she says, “and I feel like we’re so good at this. Being a team. Taking care of Teddy together. And…” She trails off and tears her gaze away.
I scratch the back of my head, wondering how to approach this, but knowing I should speak the hard words for her. “And you’re wondering if we should try a relationship?”
She meets my eyes again. I can tell she’s embarrassed, and I don’t want her to be. “Maybe we can be a real family. You know?”
“We already are a real family,” I say, “but…”
She shakes her head and tries to smile. “I’m sorry. You’re tired and I’m keeping you here with a silly idea that sounded better in my head.”
“That’s not the word I’d use to describe the idea, Daniela,” I say. “You don’t have to feel bad about bringing this to me. But I wonder if this is only because of the breakup with Connor.”
She huffs out a breath, says, “Would it be bad if that put things into perspective for me?”
“No,” I say, and struggle for the words I need to gently ease her into understanding.
“You’ve never thought of it, Carmello?” she says while I’m searching for them.