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Before he got the chance to speak, she was at him again. ‘This outfit is incomplete.’ The short woman reached up and did up his two top buttons. ‘Remember you’re aVitello.’
‘I know, Mama, but I like it as is.’ He had the most alluring, melodic, and calming Italian accent I had ever heard.
‘Come, now.’ She waved him over and lowered her voice. ‘Please don’t embarrass me in front ofourguests.’ She walked upstairs, and he shook his head before following.
Deb turned to me and gave me that look she does whenever she sees a hot guy.
‘I’d do bad things to that man,’ she whispered in my ear.
I laughed, and in my mind, I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to kiss his perfect lips. His eyes were the kind you’d have trouble not staring into, anddon’t even get me started on his eyelashes, so dark and long. I bet he’s been offered countless modelling jobs.
By six o’clock, everyone was livelier and laughing and had moved outside onto the spacious terrace. Festoon lights were strung along the roof, adding a magical glow to the setting. There was a crisp-linen-covered table set, where a barman poured a champagne tower. It was satisfying watching the top glass fill and spill into the bottom ones. I noticed the champagne he was using said‘Vitello’on it. Could that be another one of Patrick’s businesses?
On the table beside the champagne was an Instagram-worthy feast of fresh produce, Italian meats, crackers, olives, and countless amounts of cheeses. My God, there was a lot of food. It was the biggest grazing table I’d ever seen.
Once our duties were done, we cleaned the trays in the kitchen, and as slowly as possible so we could spend more time in his house. I secretly wanted to gawk at his face one more time before we left.
Just as we were about to leave, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I spun around to see Patrick standing there with a champagne glass in his hand. I noticed he was wearing a square-cut ruby ring set in gold on his pinky. His dark, tousled hair sateffortlessly above his shoulders.Okay, that was unexpected.Wow.
‘You must be the famous Naomi?’ His melt-worthy smile spread across his face.
I tried not to blush. ‘Famous? I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.’
‘No. I’m ninety-nine percent sure you’re the Naomi who works at Mon Amour. Am I right?’
‘Oh. Yes, I am, but I’m not famous.’Famous? What? That’s ridiculous.
He laughed, then said, ‘Everyone loved the food and service tonight. Why don’t you both stay for a bit and relax? Enjoy yourselves. We’re about to have cake.’
‘Oh, I don’t want to intrude,’ I said modestly.
Deb appeared in front of me, blocking my view of Patrick. ‘I’d love to,’ she interjected, elbowing my boob. ‘Naomi?’
‘Okay, I’m in.’Ow.
‘Excellent! I’ll see you both outside, then.’
Patrick strolled outside, and a swarm of people instantly surrounded him like moths to a light. God, he was magnetic.
We walked out on the terrace and sat on two vacant chairs away from the main crowd and watched as a waiter rolled out a table with a gigantic triple-layered white-chocolate cake with sparklers on top.
‘I’m craving a smoke so bad,’ Deb said.
I ignored her, my mouth watering looking at the sight of that cake. As I scanned the rest of the area, I noticed Daniel was nowhere to be seen.
‘Hey, did you see where Daniel went? He disappeared.’
‘Since when do you care about Daniel?’ She shot up a brow.
My reply was interrupted by the stunning lady who had let us in earlier. The crowd quietened down and gave her their full attention as she began to speak.
‘I want to thank everyone for coming here tonight to celebrate Patrick’s thirty-fifth birthday. As all of you know, our papa passed away three years ago. I know he would have loved to be here with you all and spend time with friends and family. Patrick, he would be so proud of you. Truly, you’re incredible. Few people could do the things you do. Happy birthday, brother.’ She held up her glass to salute him.
He raised his glass in return.
A tear formed in my eye and I smiled at her speech as I tried to fight a resurfacing memory.Be happy, Naomi. It’s a birthday party, for crying out loud.No tears. Not here, not now.
The crowd sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to Patrick, with Deb and I joining in as we watched Patrick cut into the cake. Huge slabs of cake were handed out on golden-rimmed plates.
