Page 33 of Dante

“I’m thinking along the same line as your brothers,” I tell Dante.

“If you acquire the restaurant, I can manage its build-out. I need to do something useful. I’d like to be an active part of the family business. I wouldn’t want to work with Silvio in the casino. And I’m not sure my skills would be of use to you in the nightclub, Dante.”

“You have experience managing a restaurant?” Dante asks. I hear the skepticism in his voice.

“Not direct experience, no. That’s not my strongpoint.”

“Then what is your strong point?” Lorenzo asks.

I take a deep breath. “Design. Concept.”

Dante keeps his eyes fixed on me, while Lorenzo and Luca look at one another.

“My wife seems to have talents I know nothing about,” says Dante. “Tell us more, Gina.”

I hesitate. Announcing that I’m a caricature artist may make them think I’m silly. But I also thought that they’d look down on my waitress experience.

And they didn’t.

“I’m an artist,” I say boldly. “I’ve been drawing caricatures of people since I was seven. I turned it into a viable online business a few years back. And one day, I hope to have one of my works in the National Portrait Gallery in London.”

There. I said it. My gut twists as I watch Dante and his brothers absorb this news.

“I read something in your profile about you being an artist,” Dante finally says. “But why the National Portrait Gallery?”

“It has the finest collection of caricature art in the world. I saw it when my parents took me to London as a kid. It’s been my goal ever since.”

“See how it’s coming together, Dante?” Lorenzo grins. “Your wife’s an artist. I’m not sure what a caricature is exactly, but it sounds very cool. And if you agree, Luca and I already found a chef to add to the package. His name’s Enrico Pisa. You’re enjoying his pizza tonight.”

A pizza chef named Pisa, I think to myself. This guy must be a natural.

“Hmmmm…” says Dante, looking at his abandoned pizza before digging his fork into it.

After tasting it with new consideration he points his fork in my direction. “Okay, Gina. You promised a concept. What is it?”

When I look at the brothers for support. They just nod, encouraging me to speak.

I think back on the conversations Alice’s parents had around the table when they were brainstorming the concept.

“Let’s start with the customer base,” I say, winging it. “We have the Dante’s Inferno club people. Sleek, upscale, money no object. And the casino crowd. They’re older, and desire quality fine dining and tradition.”

“Continue,” says Dante.

“Since Luca and Lorenzo found a pizza chef, let’s keep the pizza concept but elevate it. Let’s focus on creating an upscale Italian pizza restaurant based on nostalgia.”

“Where does nostalgia fit in? Pizza is pizza,” says Dante.

“Exactly. That’s why we must be different.”

The energetic vibe of a bustling restaurant bursts into my head in a flurry of colors and shapes.

Immediately, I sense it will be the kind of place where you feel a sense of fun and energy. And for whatever reason, the iconic face of the canned pasta king Chef Boyardee comes to mind.

“Different how?” Dante demands.

“Unlike a lot of high-end restaurants in town, our place will radiate a playful approach to food and life. We’ll charge top dollar for the white tablecloth service, elegantly outfitted waiters, a top wine list and so forth. But the décor will remind them of their childhood.”

“That’s not a concept. It’s mere decoration,” says Dante.