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On that, he left while the wave of voices rose behind her to fill the void.
Thirty-Three
Tad usually enjoyed the morning quiet of an empty restaurant, whether it was DeLuca’s or Vivi’s. But this morning, his thoughts bounced around his skull, duking it out and making a whole lot of noise.
He had gone three days without talking to Jules, probably the longest stretch since he’d known her. It just seemed easier to give her some space while she figured out what was best for her and Evan, but it killed him not to talk to her. Soothe her through this tough time. Hold her like she was his.
It would have been so easy to jump on board that bandwagon of hate with Jack at the helm. Do the clan thing and vow to protect. Well, he’d never been very good at the family business and his latest actions just went to prove that.
No way would he be party to a plan to cut some guy out of his kid’s life. St. James might be a jerk but he was Evan’s father and that had to count for something. Tad knew all about the perils of poor decision-making. To make the man pay for that by denying him a chance to see his son? That didn’t sit so well with him.
He clicked through some spreadsheets on the laptop and assessed what he saw. Numbers for Vivi’s were good and he might even be able to talk to the bank about that mortgage to buy out his sister. The only reason he wasn’t breaking out the Prosecco was found in the e-mail he’d received fifteen minutes ago.
Tasty Chicagohad blown Vivi’s back to the Stone Age. The latest issue hadn’t hit the newsstands yet, but Tad knew someone at their offices who had slipped him a copy of the review. If pressed, he could have recited it word for word.
No different than any hip establishment in the by now passé Wicker Park neighborhood, Vivi’s does what one would never expect from a bar brought to you by Taddeo DeLuca, famous purveyor of the Bourbon Bomb and the Ab-alicious Gimlet, two of the top cocktails on last year’s Chicago Mixologists List: it makes wine boring. The bar has all the usual trappings—a young staff that prance about like they’re on the catwalk, decor straight out of Pan-Asian Home & Gardens, and a passable list—but without the in-house knowledge to determine Greek from German (they still make maps, don’t they?), this oenophile was left with a sour, funky taste in her mouth.
On my first visit, I tried and failed to enjoy the nostalgia of been there-done that-got the T-shirt. On the second, I had barely a moment to consider the menu before the owner’s divo-esque behavior signaled a premature end to my meal. Mr. DeLuca may be banking on his much-vaunted social media popularity and his connections with a certain celebrity chef to keep him afloat but true wine lovers will want to go elsewhere. The bar’s one saving grace? The flavorful red pepper, caramelized onion, and cilantro appetizer prepared by Derry Jones, on loan from Jack Kilroy’s bizarrely successful joint, Sarriette. Unfortunately, Mr. DeLuca can’t rely on borrowed chefs and the Kilroy name to turn this stinker into a winner.
The appetizer didn’t even belong to Derry; it was Jules’s all the way. And Monica was relatively kind about the rude owner, so that was a bonus. It would go out tomorrow. How fitting—the day he had planned to lay low and sink lower.
The anniversary of his parents’ death.
At the sound of footsteps, he turned to find Jack swaggering in from the street, his expression grim. He took a seat at the bar and lay this week’s issue ofTasty Chicagoon the glowing wood. Must have his own connection.
“I’ve already seen it.”
“I thought you were good at this. Working your charm. Keeping the fairer sex happy.”
“She didn’t get the experience she expected. Not everyone is going to leave satisfied.”
Tad folded his arms across his chest, knowing the move gave off defensive but not caring one whit. “Why don’t you say what you really want to say? Isn’t this the ‘what are your intentions toward my sister’ talk?”
Jack inhaled deep. “She’s never had the best taste in men.”
“And you’ve never liked me.”
“I’ve liked you just fine, Tad. But when it comes to my sister, you’ve never given me any reason to think you’re a good bet. You make her laugh and she gets all doe-eyed when she looks at you, but being there for her? I don’t see it. You had a chance to step up and protect her. Instead you take the side of the guy who fucked her over. What was that?”
Blood raged beneath Tad’s skin. “You know it’s the right thing to do.”
“Right doesn’t mean best. That guy has already abandoned his wife and kids, and now he’s looking for a substitute to make him feel like his balls are still intact. Once he gets bored, he’ll be gone. Or maybe he’ll show up every few years, confusing the hell out of Evan. You really think that’s for the best?”
“We don’t know what the future is going to hold, Jack. All I know is that Jules needed to make that decision on her own without you and Cara and Shane coming down on her like a brickhouse. Yeah, maybe he’ll be a sucktacular father, but he needs to be given the chance to get it right.”
Jack scowled. “So is Jules your shot at getting it right? You’ve spent years screwing anything that moves and now you’re looking for the one thing—the one person—that’ll make you feel better about yourself.”
That struck hard. If Tad didn’t know better he would think Jack knew the ugly truth, but while the man had many faults, deliberate cruelty wasn’t one of them. Vivi’s walls, glass, stone, and wood, pressed in on him.
He plastered on a grin. So what if it hurt to do it.
“We’re men, Jack. We’re never good enough for the women we want. Isn’t that the standard viewpoint?”
Back in the day, Tad had been skeptical about Jack’s interest in Lili until the first time they had talked, right after a very public kiss between the newly minted couple went video viral and catapulted their relationship into the online hate-asphere. Just one conversation with Jack had been all it took to see the man had fallen ass-over-nuts for Lili. That Jack wasn’t astute enough to give Tad the benefit of the doubt really got on his tits.
Jack’s expression remained unmoved. “I’m not going to be so heavy-handed as to tell you to stay away from her, but as you’re such a fan of what’s right then you’ll put your money where your mouth is.”
Jules needed someone…anyone who could give her a hundred per cent. Meaning anyone but Tad. What man is worthy of the woman he’s crazy about? It’s like universal man-law.
