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CHAPTER THIRTY
DOMINIC
We were flying directly over Phoenix now. When I took note of such area landmarks as Camelback Mountain and Arizona State University, I found myself grinning like a jackass. Even though I’d only been away for thirty-six hours, I was damn glad to be home. New York was nice, but it wasn’t home anymore, hadn’t been for ten years.
Before the plane took off this morning, I texted Melanie to let her know I’d be back this afternoon. Then I stared at my phone for half an hour and waited for her to respond. She didn’t.
It was just after noon by the time I exited the airport, and since I was closer to Espo 1, I decided to stop there first. Gio was there, dealing with the lunch crowd, just as I’d figured he would be. The restaurant was busy and pleasantly noisy with herds of college kids running in to grab a slice or two before dashing back to their next class.
Giovanni was actually working in the kitchen because we were a little shorthanded, and a few of the staff were being juggled between the two locations.
“Could you use some help?” I asked, already grabbing an apron from the hook by the kitchen entrance.
Gio looked up, smiled, and then went back to rolling dough. “You’re back.”
“Yup, I’m tough to get rid of.”
“In that case, do you mind grabbing the latest batch of pies out of the oven?”
We worked side by side for the next hour. Eventually the throngs of hungry students thinned out. I grabbed two plates and set two slices on each of them.
“Let’s go eat,” I said, jerking my head toward the dining room.
Gio told the other guys in the kitchen to holler if they needed anything. Then he followed me to the same table we’d occupied the other day before I left for New York. We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. One of the servers came by with a pair of sodas.
“Thanks, Aimee,” Gio said. He took a sip of his drink, and then his face turned serious. “Were you able to find him?”
“I found him.”
Gio leaned forward. “And he talked to you?”
“He talked to me.”
My brother scratched his head, seeming perplexed. “You’re smiling and you don’t have any visible bruises, so I’m hoping that’s a good sign.”
I took a drink, then set the glass down. “I’ll tell you all about it.”
Gio didn’t interrupt me with questions as I gave him a detailed account of my reunion with Steven. He looked a little sad and guilty when I explained that Steven hadn’t had anything to do with the collapse of the old place. It was all Uncle Frank. And then his mouth fell open a little when I told him about how Steven and I made dinner together and amused the girls with stories about growing up in the middle of a famous New York eatery.
“By the way, he asked about you,” I said. “He was happy to hear that life is treating you well.”
“Did you get his number?” he asked. “I’d like to talk to him myself.”
“I have it.” I paused. “Look, there’s something I want to run past you. I didn’t even mention it to him, and I have no way of knowing if he’d even accept, but I think it could turn out to be a good thing for all of us.”
My brother was already nodding in agreement before I finished outlining the idea that had occurred to me in Steven’s kitchen yesterday.
“I’m totally cool with that,” he said. “We could use another solid, full-time cook, and Steven knows his shit. Hell, he helped teach us. You really think he’d move his family all the way across the country, though?”
I’d already considered the question. “I think he might. Cost of living out there, even on Long Island, is through the roof. He could find a nice place here in the valley for much less than he’s paying for that rental house. Plus I got the impression he’s looking for something better for his kids, a way to start over.”
Gio was thoughtful. “Maybe you’re right. After all, we started over once, remember?” He looked around proudly at the restaurant, the first restaurant we’d opened together. “I think it’s turned out pretty well.”
“I think it did, too,” I said. Then I took my phone out of my pocket and quickly flipped through my contacts.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Just sent you Steven’s number. You wanted to call him anyway, so how do you feel about making the offer?”
