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Harper could sympathize with feeling the need to escape. She’d spent most of her life—from childhood all the way through her twenties—in constant motion, always rushing from one job to the next, always fighting to trim off another pound or three with countless training sessions and starvation diets, juggling her career and culinary classes.
The past couple of weeks—even though she was busy with a myriad of things to prepare for the opening of the restaurant—were the most relaxing of her life.
“Escape sounds nice,” she said, realizing that was what cooking had become for her. The ultimate escape.
Luca walked closer to the television. “Jesus. You must feel like you’re actually at the arena when you watch hockey games on this. Good resolution?”
“Very sharp,” Conor replied. “If Gage was here, my tech nerd brother could rattle off all the specs, tell you how many pixels and crap like that. My brain only holds on to numbers that have dollar signs in front of them.”
Luca walked back to Conor, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You never watch sports in here, do you?”
Conor shook his head. “I’m not much of a fan, but I know you and your family are. Gage mentioned joining you at a sports bar a few times.” Conor hesitated for a moment, and Harper got the sense he was debating with himself over something. “If you and the guys wanted to come over one day and watch a game here instead of?—”
“We accept,” Luca interrupted. “What are you doing Sunday?”
Conor rolled his eyes, grinning, assuming Luca was joking. But Harper knew he wasn’t.
“Oh. Um… I’m not busy,” Conor finally replied, when he realized Luca was serious.
“Hockey playoffs are in full swing, and while the Flyers didn’t make the cut—don’t get me going about that,” Luca grumbled. “My cousin Elio’s old team, the Baltimore Stingrays, are on fire this year, and I’d love to see them go all the way.”
“Hockey. Sounds great.” Conor’s tone was better suited for someone making plans to go to the dentist.
“Not a hockey fan?” Harper asked.
“Don’t watch it enough to have strong feelings one way or the other,” he replied.
“Me either. And I’m not usually one to invite myself places,” Harper said, “buuuut if someone was to include me on the Sunday invite, maybe we could form some opinions about hockey together. As an added bonus, we’ll have Luca here to explain what’s going on.”
“I will gladly tutor you, my young padawans, in the ways of the ice,” Luca said in a solemn Jedi Master voice, his fingertips pressed together in front of him.
“Plus,” Harper added, trying to sweeten the deal, “I make killer appetizers.”
Luca’s eyes lit up as he glanced at Conor.
“You’re invited, Harper,” Conor said. “With or without the appetizers.”
Luca held up his hands. “Now, now, Conor. Don’t be too hasty to decline the apps, man.” He looked at Harper. “Because if you were interested in making a big platter of wings, I don’t think any of the guys in my family would complain.”
Harper saluted. “So noted.”
“You should invite your brothers too,” he said to Conor.
Conor leaned against one of the recliners and crossed his arms. “If I invite Gage and Matt, Penny and Liza will want to come.”
Luca nodded. “Yeah, well, the truth is, once I tell the gang about this room, I think everyone is going to want to come.”
“So it’s now an official boy/girl party?” Harper joked.
Conor didn’t reply right away, and Harper wondered if he’d ever invited anyone to escape in this room with him. Something about his demeanor told her that he hadn’t.
“Fine,” he said at last. “And since it sounds like a pretty extensive guest list, we should probably make a real party of it.” He looked at Harper. “Do you think you could help me come up with a menu? I wouldn’t expect you to cook it all. I could find someone to cater?—”
“I would love to make a menu! And don’t you even think about hiring a caterer. I want as much time in that gorgeous kitchen of yours as I can get. What time does the game start?” she asked Luca.
“Three o’clock.”
Harper nodded. “You okay if I come around eleven to start cooking?”
