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He grabbed a few cream pods from the fridge, the kind hotels stocked. “I get them from downstairs for when I have guests.”
“You have guests often?” I asked, trying to sound innocent. He’d said he didn’t bring women here, but I wasn’t sure.
Silas shot me a knowing look. “My parents like to stay here from time to time.”
“They stay here and not in one of the other rooms?”
“It’s a two-bedroom suite, and it’s like a condo. It doesn’t feel like a hotel room.”
For the first time, I looked around as he started his eggs. There were framed photos on the wall of his brothers and parents on his boat and standing in front of the hotel, probably at the opening, and others of him when he was little. “Your family is close?”
I didn’t know much about him. If my brothers had mentioned his family, I didn’t listen.
“We are. All of us live in the area, and we see my parents often.”
“That’s nice,” I said, wondering why his words sent a pang through my heart.
“It’s very similar to your family.”
That felt like a lie because I hadn’t gone to family dinner on Sundays in a long time. My mother was disappointed, but she’d given up on pressuring me to go. There was a rift between Papà and me, and no amount of family dinners would fix it.
“Leo mentioned that you don’t go to Sunday dinners anymore.”
“Remember? I’m usually working.” I shifted in my chair, uncomfortable with him asking questions about the situation.
“And your parents are okay with that excuse?” Silas asked.
“They aren’t, but they don’t have a choice.”
“What’s the real reason?” he asked, his hip cocked against the counter as he crossed his impressive biceps over his chest.
“My dad doesn’t respect my choice to open a business separate from his. He thinks I should be working with him.”
Silas frowned. “That’s tough.”
“I couldn’t work for him anymore. I felt stifled. I had all these ideas, and he didn’t want to hear them.”
Silas raised a brow. “He approved the expansion of the restaurant.”
“Only because my brothers would have gone out on their own if he’d said no. I get the irony. He didn’t care about me leaving because I’m just one person. But my brothers run the other restaurant. He needs them.”
“I’m sure he needed you too.”
“As a waitress? I have more to give than being a server.” I sighed and put my fork down. “It doesn’t matter because I didn’t want to work for my parents or the pizzeria.”
“He doesn’t respect your dreams.”
“He doesn’t respect my business. He thinks everyone in the family should work for him. But I couldn’t. There wasn’t a place for me in it, and it wasn’t what I wanted. But he wasn’t listening to what I wanted.”
“And you want to prove yourself to him,” Silas observed, his voice gentle.
I laughed without any humor. “That’s impossible. Nothing I do ever seems to impress him. He still sees me as a rebellious teenager. No amount of monetary success or good grades seems to alter his opinion of me. It’s like he doesn’t see me.” That admission came from somewhere deep, somewhere I hadn’t accessed in a long time.
Silas’s expression softened as he came around the counter and pulled me into his arms. I rested my cheek against his hard chest, sinking into him and savoring the feel of his arms around me. “I see you.”
I closed my eyes against the feeling behind his words. I thought this conversation was about family and parents, not about him.
“Sometimes you have to do things for yourself. Not to impress others around you. If you’re always seeking his approval, you might be disappointed.”
