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“It’s Papa,” I said. “Everyone pretend I was giving you instructions for tonight.”
“Oh,” Camilla said, then in a voice that could be heard across the bar, “seat everyone, got it.”
“Jesus, help me,” Amara said.
“Sofia,” Papa interrupted, “can I speak to you?”
“Yes, Papa,” I said, scooting back from the table and shooting a look at Camilla that I was sure went right over her head.
I followed him into the office, assuming I was about to get yelled at, either because of the sisters ditching work to chat away in the bar or something else, and I was surprised when he offered me to sit down across from him with a softness in his voice he rarely used at work.
“Sofia,” he said, seeming like he was searching for words, “I have been thinking a lot today. Your mama has been on my mind very much, as she is this time of year.” I nodded solemnly. No one needed to remind me that the anniversary of the day she died was coming up. It was a brutal day at best for all of us, and in her honor, we only served breakfast food all day. It was her favorite. “She would have been very upset at me with the way I spoke to you.”
“Papa,” I said, trying to cut off the conversation at the pass. It was heartbreaking to see him so sad and trying to apologize when that was clearly not in the wheelhouse of things he often did.
“No, no, let your Papa finish,” he said. “I was wrong. About all of it. I should not have said what I did, and I was wrong about why I said it. I should be encouraging you, bella. You are an adult now. You have been for a while. I forget this because I am an old man, Sofia. An old man who still sees his babies as his babies. But I need to realize you are grown. You want to do something, and I should be helping you, not telling you not to do it. So, if you want to do this cook-off, I will help you. Whatever I can. Okay?”
I could barely believe what I was hearing. Papa admitting he was wrong? Offering to encourage me in making something that was expressly supposed to be spicy? And doing it in a way that made me cry about it? What was going on?
“Thank you, Papa,” I managed.
“One other thing,” he said. “When the cook-off is over, I want you to take over the bar menu. I am too old to be in touch with what people want in food at a bar. You aren’t. I want it to be yours.”
If I was on another planet when I came into work, I was in an entirely different universe by the time I closed up. I pulled out my phone almost the instant I got onto the floor behind the bar and texted Kieran that I had something I wanted to talk to him about and then shoved it into my back pocket, a smile that a hundred million annoying Karens with complicated drink orders couldn’t wipe off.
I checked the phone periodically over the next half hour before things picked up, but he didn’t answer immediately. By the time he did, things were winding down.
That sounds amazing, he said, referring to the brief description of what had happened that I gave him. Want to meet up and celebrate?
Sure, I responded. But this time, my place.
14
KIERAN
“You’re still here?” Chief asked as he walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He had fallen asleep a couple of hours ago in his chair, the victim of an extraordinarily long meeting with the mayor and his staff before taking calls from media folks all over the state.
“Just finishing up, boss,” I said, putting the last of the plastic Chinese food containers in the refrigerator. “Stayed late with Stevens to pick his brain a little and do some cooking since I have an afternoon shift tomorrow.”
“Do I detect a note of frustration there, Duggan?”
“No, sir,” I said, grinning. “I don’t mind swing shifts.”
“Good,” he said, passing me on his way to the back door.
The thing was, I didn’t really like swing shifts normally. I preferred the routine of the same waking hour and working time. It was one of the things I enjoyed about becoming an assistant chief: I was going to get out of the changing shift schedule that saw me working mornings, afternoons, and overnights all in the same weeks.
But my mind went directly to Sofia and the fact that if I played my cards right—and since I was in control of making the schedule, I was pretty sure I could—I could make my schedule mirror hers rather easily. It was super early to be thinking about it, but I was so optimistic about our night together and what it could mean that I was already looking forward to many more.
